Daleina saw two lizardlike fire spirits spit flames onto the hearth. Headmistress Hanna clearly noticed too, because she began whispering in Queen Naelin’s ear. The fire spirits withdrew to the logs, smoldering, their ember-black eyes glaring at the humans as if they wanted to flay them all alive. Which they do, of course, she thought. Fly and burn and bite and claw.
Daleina read, “‘Please accept my most profound apology for . . .’” Her voice trailed off as she scanned ahead. Oh.
Oh no.
She raised her head to look at Naelin.
“It seems I owe you an apology,” Daleina said, trying to keep her voice calm. She forced herself to steady her hands so no one would see they’d begun shaking. “Your children are alive. This is, in essence, a ransom note.”
Across the room, Naelin made a strangled kind of sound.
“I believe it’s written by Merecot herself, not a scribe.” Daleina held the parchment out so Headmistress Hanna could see.
“Yes,” Hanna confirmed. “I remember her script. She always scrawled like that. Lousy penmanship.”
Continuing, Daleina read out loud, “‘Please accept my most profound apology for the inconvenience and pain I have caused you through my actions.’”
Naelin hissed. “‘Inconvenience’?”
The fire spirits crackled.
“Control your emotions,” Hanna cautioned.
Naelin glared at the headmistress, but she did, in fact, seem to calm—or, at least, the spirits did.
“‘The fact that I have had to resort to such methods horrifies me, but I must put the needs of my people before my own personal views. Let me lay bare to you the truth: I sent six air spirits into Aratay with two purposes: one, to eliminate the Protector of Queens, the wolf known as Bayn, who would have surely stood in the way of my ultimate goal.’”
“Bayn?” Ven said.
Daleina lowered the letter. “Does anyone know what she means by ‘Protector of Queens’?” She’d never heard the term before, least of all applied to her wolf, whom she hadn’t even allowed herself to truly mourn. He was my friend, but “Protector”?
“What of my children?” Naelin said.
Daleina read on. “‘And two, to secure your children, to be used as leverage against your good behavior. I have taken this action to ensure that you fulfill what you have already promised. It was never my intent to harm a single human of Aratay, least of all your children. And I have not harmed but a single hair on their heads.’”
Hamon frowned. “Isn’t the expression ‘not a single hair’?”
“Apparently, the queen of Semo has a delightful sense of humor,” Garnah said. She lifted a clump of hair from the box. “She’s not much for subtlety, though, is she?” Daleina guessed it was snipped from one of Naelin’s children.
Naelin let out a noise, half like a growl and half a moan. She looked as if she wanted to tear the world apart with her bare hands. Ven clamped his hands down on her shoulder and whispered furiously in her ear. Headmistress Hanna also wheeled closer to her, talking rapidly.
Daleina waited for the next earthquake.
It didn’t come.
She’s learning control. Daleina was impressed. This letter makes me want to cause an earthquake. How could she have misjudged Merecot so badly? She’d been so convinced that Merecot couldn’t be responsible, that she wouldn’t be so stupid.
She’d been wrong.
Daleina quickly summarized the rest of the letter. “She demands one of us come to Semo and assist her with the ‘overabundance of spirits’ in her lands. She claims she only took the children to provide incentive and that she had to take dramatic action in order to catch our attention. She goes on to promise they’ll be treated like honored guests and will be returned as soon as negotiations are concluded.”
“It’s a trap,” Ven said.
Garnah snorted. “Obviously.”
“Not so obviously,” Hanna argued. “She’s desperate. She was desperate enough to try to kill Queen Daleina, desperate enough to invade, and now desperate enough to kidnap Naelin’s children. She wants to save Semo, and since we haven’t helped her do that yet—”
“We’ve been healing Aratay! Healing it from her actions!” Daleina had planned on sending an ambassador sooner, but with winter coming and the harvest in danger . . . “There were other priorities.”
“Not for her,” Hanna pointed out.
Closing her eyes, Daleina crumpled the letter in her hand. She knew she should be done feeling betrayed by Merecot—after all, her former friend had had her poisoned—but this was a fresh surprise. I shouldn’t have stopped Naelin from attacking. She should have joined in, thrown all the spirits of Aratay against the border and broken through. “If you want that invasion, Naelin, you have it.”
Naelin didn’t respond.
Daleina opened her eyes.
She saw Naelin had crossed the room to the box that held the locks of her children’s hair. She’d taken a curled strand away from Garnah and was stroking it. “Attacking would endanger Erian and Llor. Ven, you were right. We needed to know who and why.”
“Now that we do, how do you want to proceed?” Daleina asked. “This isn’t merely a move against your children—an attack on our soil is a direct challenge to our sovereignty. It must be answered.” She wondered if Naelin understood that. This wasn’t just about Naelin’s children; it was about all the children of Aratay. If Merecot thought she could simply take the queen’s children . . .
It can’t be allowed. It’s an act of war.
“I go to Semo,” Naelin said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I help her with the spirits, and then I bring back my children.”
Garnah heaved a dramatic sigh. “Did you miss the part where this is a trap? You step foot in Semo, and she will kill you. She’s already confessed to trying to kill your wolf ‘protector’ . . . which, I might add, is a bit unhinged.”
Hanna rolled forward. “Accept my offer to be ambassador. Let me assess the situation and determine whether or not this is actually a trap or if the children are in fact there and alive. Merecot won’t refuse an ambassador—it’s a clear indication that we’re taking her seriously and a logical precaution. I’ll make my assessment as quickly as possible, and if she seems sincere, I will send word for Queen Naelin to come.”
“You’d be placing yourself in danger,” Ven objected.
“I work with spirits,” Hanna said. “I’ve always been in danger. Besides, those children are worth the risk to me.”
It’s not a terrible idea. Not only would Hanna be able to determine whether Merecot was sincere in her plea for help, but she might be able to gather information that would lead to a successful rescue. “If Merecot truly wants our assistance, she won’t hurt our ambassador.” Daleina looked to Naelin.
“If,” Ven emphasized.
“I should go now,” Naelin said. “I’m their mother.”
You’re also a queen, Daleina wanted to say, but she didn’t because she didn’t think it would help. Naelin hadn’t forgotten she was queen, or that they had no heirs. She simply doesn’t care. Her children come first. “This is the safest way to proceed, for them and for Aratay.”
Naelin had never hated before.
Not like this.
This . . . felt like the hatred of the spirits. She wanted to rip the very mountains from the ground and bury Merecot beneath them. But she knew Daleina was right. And Headmistress Hanna was right. Even Garnah was right.
It could be a trap.
And if she went, without any plan or preparation, she could be killed and her children doomed. But if she were to be patient and agree to send an ambassador . . . she might learn a way to rescue Erian and Llor without springing whatever trap the northern queen had planned.
And yet everything inside her screamed, Save them now!
She desperately wanted to. Wanted to find the person who thought it was okay to take her children, to take their hair, and show that person just exactly what it felt like to have something taken from them.
Quite simply, their blood.
But she had to be smart and careful. She had proof they were alive, or at least almost proof, and it would be foolish to rush in and jeopardize the chance of keeping them alive.