“Fine. Get me details on the two who were hurt in the north tower.”
The young man started toward the door then paused. “Do you want me to tell Lord Nyphron you wish to see him?”
“Nyphron?” Persephone shook her head. “No.”
Brin crossed the room. In her hands, she still held the cup of water that Persephone had asked her to get before Aland had come in. Brin’s hands were trembling, making the water jiggle. “Suri and Arion?” She looked down at the cup as Persephone took it from her. “What do you think happened?”
Persephone shook her head. She’d learned through painful trial and error not to shrug.
“I should go,” Moya said.
Persephone nodded.
“I’ll send someone to watch the door again.”
“Okay.”
Moya lingered a moment longer, looking at her. “It doesn’t end. It just doesn’t end, does it?” Then the beautiful woman with the big eyes and the longbow named Audrey left.
* * *
—
“You killed her?” the fane asked for a second time.
Mawyndul? nodded, disappointed his father had put so much emphasis on the word you.
“Are you sure? How can you know?”
“I saw her.”
“Saw her?” His father was still in his tent, standing in the light of three freestanding candelabras as two servants strapped on his armor. The sun was rising, but too weak and too slow to illuminate the tent’s interior. “How could you have seen her?”
Tell him the truth. He won’t believe a lie, and he’ll find out eventually anyway.
“Kel Jerydd helped me. He’s using Avempartha.”
Since the start of the battle, Synne had been constantly searching for danger, but now she paused to stare at him. Even the servants stopped their work to look over. Both of Lothian’s brows rose.
“He taught me how to talk with him before we left.”
“You’re in communication with Jerydd?” his father asked.
“Yes.”
The fane continued to stare at Mawyndul? for several seconds, trying to digest this. Then he began walking around the tent in thought. The servants followed, struggling to finish their tasks. Sile, who was in his path, was forced to take a step back, pressing his massive size against the canvas. Another step and he might have brought the whole place down. “So that explosion was Jerydd channeling Avempartha’s power through you?”
Mawyndul? nodded but was quick to add, “Yes, and I nearly died.”
His father continued to walk in a circle, trailing his servants, showing no sign of having heard him. He stopped. “Ask Jerydd if he can do more.”
I can do whatever my fane wishes.
“Yes, he can,” Mawyndul? replied.
“Good—excellent. Come with me.” The fane walked out of the tent.
The captains of the Shahdi—the Erivan military—had assembled around a bare patch of exposed stone where a small fire burned. Each was outfitted in full battle gear of bronze armor, blue capes, and helmets with bristled crests of horse hair, color coded to their regiment. Some were tall, some short, most old.
“My fane!” they all shouted, snapping to attention at his approach and clearing room around the fire for his father’s entourage. Several eyes glanced at Synne. Most of them had been introduced to her in the usual fashion. As a result, none of them made sudden moves in the presence of the fane.
“Assemble the troops but don’t advance,” his father ordered. “We’re going to do things a little differently today.”
Tell him about the other one, about the Rhune.
“They have another Artist. She’s still alive,” Mawyndul? said. His father looked at him, confused. Mawyndul? found it nice that his father finally listened when he spoke, listened with real interest, but he felt it wasn’t his words so much as Jerydd’s he was listening for. “There’s a Rhune Artist in Alon Rhist.”
His father looked puzzled. “Did you say a Rhune?”
“We think she’s freakishly powerful.” He used the word we preemptively, knowing that his father would ignore any speculation of his.
She’s not that powerful. I was just caught off guard. Now that I know she’s there, things will be different.
“A Rhune? How is that possible?”
Mawyndul? shrugged for both of them.
“Does Jerydd think he can beat her?”
Not a problem.
Mawyndul? nodded.
“Well”—the fane began finishing the buckle on his breastplate himself—“tell Jerydd to warm up the tower. We’re going to do some damage today.”
* * *
—
Moya reached the parapet above the front gate. It was lined with her archers, Tesh among them.
“Are you supposed to be here?” she asked.
“Raithe didn’t say I couldn’t.”
“You didn’t ask, either.”