He shook his head. “I doubt it. The bonfire burned for only a few minutes. I can’t imagine anyone at Perdif is watching every second. Even if they were, they’d likely believe it was a mistake, a test, or a mirage. Why else would it vanish so quickly? But I’ll go check.”
With that wonderful assessment, he walked out, leaving Persephone alone with Padera. The old woman rinsed a towel in the basin, then wiped Persephone’s face. Despite an inability to move, the keenig continued to work up a sweat.
“What is Perdif?” Padera asked.
“A small village of shepherds—a raised place in the High Spear Valley. There’s a bonfire built on a hill there that can be seen by the Gula and the Nadak. They’re supposed to light their fire when they see ours. The alert is then supposed to be relayed across Gula and Rhulyn, fire after fire, as the signal for all warriors to hurry back.”
“And if they didn’t see it?”
“We’ll be on our own here with too few men to fight.”
Nyphron returned. He was shaking his head. “There’s no fire at Perdif.”
“Build another,” Persephone ordered. “Tell—”
“Can’t. They didn’t just blow the fire out. They blasted the top off the Spyrok. Even if we could, they’d just blow that one out, too. You’d be giving them targets.”
Blew the top off the Spyrok? How could anyone blow the top off that huge tower? And if they can do that, how can we hope to survive?
Persephone felt herself sink farther into the mattress. They needed to signal Perdif. They had to signal. She’d sent everyone home based on the idea that she could call them back if the Fhrey attacked. The whole idea seemed so simple—too simple not to work. Persephone recalled patting herself on the back for her ingenuity.
“How did the fane’s army get here without any warning? Our scouts—”
“Our scouts were Rhunes,” Nyphron said. “All dead, I suspect, killed by Fhrey scouts.”
This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. This isn’t fair. She had a plan, a good one. And I can’t even get out of bed because of some stupid raow!
“Wait!” Persephone said. “What about Arion? Couldn’t she make a signal?”
“Already sent for—” Nyphron smiled as Arion and Suri knocked on the doorframe.
“The fane is here, I take it?” Arion asked.
The Miralyith was rubbing her eyes, looking sleepy. Suri was alert, but then Suri had always been a night owl. The mystic stared at Persephone, puzzled. She glanced at the window, and her expression darkened.
She knows. No one told her, but she knows what happened.
Persephone had spent the winter watching Suri blossom. The most noticeable change came with the first snows when beyond all expectations Arion persuaded Suri to abandon her old filthy dress and ruddy wool cape for an asica. The transformation was remarkable. The onetime feral mystic, who had all the fashion sense of a hedgehog, had become a swan. She hadn’t conceded completely. Arion had wanted to shave Suri’s head, but the girl had refused. They compromised on her taking regular baths, which had done wonders. Only the tattoos remained of the mystic’s former self, but even they looked different. With Suri dressed in the formal robe, what had once appeared as just another bizarre ornament now lent an aura of mystery and worldly wisdom.
“The fane blew out our signal,” Nyphron told her.
Arion moved to the window and peered out. “Of course he did. Are you saying you didn’t expect that?”
Nyphron frowned.
“The signal was my idea,” Persephone said.
“But you aren’t an experienced military commander. Nyphron should have known better and warned you.”
“My experience is against normal adversaries. I’m not accustomed to magical warfare. Besides, the thing only needed to burn for a little while.”
Persephone had never seen Nyphron offer excuses before. They rattled him. Now he’s wondering what else he missed.
“Welcome to your first lesson.” She faced Persephone. “You want me to make a new one,” Arion said, not a question, but an understanding, an acknowledgment. Arion and Suri were both a little eerie that way.
Persephone had asked Suri once if she was learning to read people’s minds. The mystic shook her head and replied, I’m learning to read the mind of the world.
“What do you think, Suri?” Arion asked.
Arion did that a lot, too. In every instance where they called Arion in for advice, she always made Suri answer first. The mystic paused and thought a moment. She moved to the window and looked out, then turned back and shook her head.
“Why?” Arion asked.
“Pointless and dangerous.”
Arion smiled at her apprentice, then turned to Nyphron and Persephone. “Jerydd, or whoever they have leading the Spiders, is watching. They’re looking for two things. A new fire—that they will blow out—and me. Can’t see me now. Might not even know I’m here. But if I use the Art, they will.” She glanced at Nyphron. “You’ll lose your precious advantage of surprise as they alter their battle plans to include me, or they’ll just launch another attack and try to do to me what they did to that tower. Honestly, I believe they’re hoping I’ll try.”
Nyphron was nodding, his face tense and thoughtful.
“And the same applies to Suri?” Persephone asked.