“More so. She’s your real secret weapon.”
“So, no signal,” Persephone said.
“Can’t we just send someone to Perdif?” Padera asked.
“Perdif is forty miles away,” Nyphron replied. “Take a person two days just to get there. Two more days for the army to get back. I’m optimistic, but even I don’t think the fane will delay his attack that long.”
“Naraspur,” Arion said.
Persephone assumed this was a Fhrey word she wasn’t familiar with, but she saw just as much puzzlement in Nyphron’s eyes.
“Naraspur is the horse I rode here. I left Naraspur with Petragar. If she’s still here, someone could ride—”
“Alon Rhist has a dozen horses,” Nyphron said, then began shaking his head. “But being a fortress, the Rhist is designed to be hard to invade. A natural cliff protects the citadel and the city below, and we have only the one, well-fortified gate. To escape, a rider would need to cross the Grandford Bridge. There’s just no other way for a horse to leave, and the fane’s army is camped on the far side. Our messenger would be required to ride through a thousand Fhrey.”
Arion frowned. “And the Spiders will kill anyone leaving the fortress. Especially on a horse, and for the same reason they destroyed the tower.”
“I can’t ask my people to commit suicide, not when…” Nyphron looked at Persephone. “So far, the rest of the Instarya are innocent of my crimes. If we fail, there’s a chance at least that the fane will punish me and pardon them.”
“What about a human?” Padera asked. She had dropped the towel back in the basin, throwing her full attention to the conversation. “What about a Rhune?”
Nyphron replied to Persephone rather than Padera. “A Rhune would stand far less of a chance. Members of the fane’s army might hesitate to kill another Fhrey, but they would have no such qualms with a Rhune. And there isn’t a Rhune alive that can ride a horse.” He looked as if he were going to say more, then stopped.
“What?” Persephone asked.
Nyphron looked pained. “I am embarrassed to say we Fhrey are not above petty amusements. Rhunes have been forced onto the backs of horses as entertainment. It never ended well. No Rhune has ever managed to sit on a horse, much less ride one.”
“Never?” Padera asked, but the tone of her voice was odd, as if this was a good thing.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude; it’s just that humans don’t have the required agility.”
Arion nodded. “He’s right. Riding a horse isn’t easy. It is, in point of fact, dangerous.”
“Racing through a camp of a thousand Fhrey, some of them Miralyith, would be impossible for anyone,” Nyphron explained.
“It would be a race, wouldn’t it?” Padera said. “A race for the fate of all our people.”
Nyphron sighed and leaned against the wall. “Suicide is what it would be.”
“But if someone could do it—if someone could cross that bridge and get past the army…” Padera looked in Persephone’s direction but not at her. That one visible eye seemed out of focus, searching for something else entirely.
“It would be a miracle,” Nyphron told her.
“Yes, but if they did, could they make a difference?”
“If they did, and if they rode hard, they might reach Perdif in less than a day—half a day maybe, though it might kill the horse, and honestly, wishful thinking would be more likely to work. But if you’d like to find candidates to try it…”
“No,” Persephone replied. “I won’t ask anyone to throw their life away.”
“Of course,” Padera said, “trying to ride a horse through that camp is something only a fool with nothing to lose would even think of.”
“And we aren’t that desperate,” Persephone said. “We still have walls, near equal numbers, and our secret weapons.” She looked at Arion and Suri.
Moya came back in. “Good news,” she said and pulled Brin in behind her.
Seeing the girl safe and unharmed, Persephone smiled. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be doing much of that anymore.
* * *
—
“That should wake them up.” The fane sat on the ornate chair, which had been placed in the dusty field. A dozen Fhrey had stomped down the yellow grass around him so that blowing tassels wouldn’t bother the ruler of the Fhrey. He wore a smug smile as he stretched out his feet and folded his arms. “It’ll make it hard for them to sleep tonight, too. In the morning, we’ll finish the task.”
The Spiders continued to hum and chant, and Kasimer wove his fingers at the tower across the chasm.
“No sign of her?” the fane asked.
“Arion is not foolish,” was all Kasimer replied.
“She turned against her fane in favor of a bunch of barbarians,” Mawyndul? said. “She prevented me from rendering justice on Gryndal’s murderer. How exactly would you classify that? Wise?”