As the dawn light began to light up the night far on the horizon, Kalina strode to a window that overlooked the throne chamber.

  Within, she saw the figures of Scorpion Guard members milling about. There were hundreds of them. The whole garrison was out in force, and yet the fighting had stopped.

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  She swallowed, her heart thrumming in her breast and her hands shaking.

  When the mournful bells of the high tower sung, Kalina wept—wept with a smile, as the sound of those bells signified only one thing.

  She clasped her hands together, laughing and crying.

  The sultan was dead.