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made ifrala perfume every spring.”
    She blinked. “You knew my mother?”
    “Briefly.” He opened his fingers and let the blossom drift to the grass. “Rhian, why have you not convened a meeting of the trading nations? Do you think this Mijak will change its mind? Or, like a little girl, do you hope that if you close your eyes tight the spirits and demons will not see you in the dark?”
    Spirits and demons. There are no such things. “If you're so certain I'm wrong in waiting, Han, why haven't you summoned the trading nations yourself?”
    “If I were the ruler of Ethrea, I would.”
    She folded her arms. “Why should I trust you, Han? Why should I trust your witch-man Sun-dao? I don't know you. I only know your reputation, and the reputation of mighty Tzhung-tzhungchai. You swallow nations as I swallow a plum. Perhaps I'm the pit you think to spit out in the dirt.”
    “Rhian, Rhian…” Han sounded sorrowful. “Don't disappoint me. The Tzhung empire has swallowed no-one for nearly two hundred years. You know that. And you know my witch-man speaks the truth. The truth rots in your dungeons. It yearns for the light. It dreams of a dead wife. Zandakar is the key to defeating Mijak. How long will you leave him a prisoner when your life, and my life, and as many lives as there are stars at night, depend upon him? How long will you deny the only truth that can save us?”
    “Zandakar is my concern, not yours,” she said, turning away.
    Han sighed. “Before Mijak is tamed you must tame your disobedient dukes. The dukes are why you do not convene the trading nations. Until they are tamed your crown is in danger. Zandakar is also the key to their downfall, and you know it. There is so little time until there is no time at all, Rhian. Will you let pain and pride waste these brief moments?”
    “Be quiet!” she snapped, spinning round. “Who are you to come here uninvited and tell me how I should rule and who I should see? If time is so brief, if I am so helpless, take your Tzhung warfleet and sink Mijak on your own!”
    Han smiled. His eyes were flat and black as obsidian. “If the wind desired it, girl, then so it would be and my empire would flood with the grateful tears of the saved. The wind does not. It blows me to you.”
    “I never asked it to! I never asked for this!”
    “The wind does not care,” said Han. “And neither do I. Deal with your dukes, Rhian.”
    Still fuming, she glared at him. “How?”
    “You ask for my help?”
    “I ask for your opinion! My father taught me there's no shame in seeking counsel of a wise man. You're an emperor. I assume you've had some experience of – of – uncooperative vassals.”
    His cold eyes warmed with amusement. “Yes.”
    “Well, then?”
    “Rhian, there is nothing I can tell you that you don't already know. The wind has made you a warrior. No breathing man can fight the wind.”
    Perhaps that's true. But this breathing woman can certainly try.
    “You can,” said Han. “But you won't.”
    Was he inside her mind now? Or was her face less schooled than she liked to imagine? He infuriated and frightened her like no-one else she knew. “I don't want to shed their blood, Han.”
    He shrugged. “Want means nothing. Need is all.”
    Tears burned her eyes, then, because she knew he was right. Hand on her knife-hilt, she blinked them away.
    “Go,” said the Emperor of Tzhung-tzhungchai. “Do what you must, Rhian. Do it quickly. And when you are done, I will be waiting.”

Godspeaker 3 - Hammer of God
    CHAPTER THREE
    The prison cell was too small for hotas, but Zandakar tried to dance them anyway. There was nothing else for him to do. No-one to talk to, he was the castle's only prisoner. Sometimes the guards watched him when they weren't gambling for coins, they watched him with their unfriendly eyes, their eyes with promises in them. They would hurt him if he danced too close.
    His cell was made of three stone walls and one of iron bars, a ceiling and a