“I think he must,” Heath spoke, to her relief. “All of his plans require peace between the Plains and Xy. He really has two choices. Head to the border or stay and defend from within these walls if he is attacked.” Heath paused, lowering his voice. “Will he have to fight a war at the border, to defend Xy? Or will he have to attack the Plains themselves, to secure his position?”
Joden had also stopped and Amyu was at his shoulder. She could feel the heat of Joden’s body against her, even as she stared at the both of them. “You think it will come to that,” she said flatly.
“I do not know,” Heath said. “I do know that the City of Water’s Fall is in a fever, commanded by the Queen to make swords, weapons, armor, bolts, arrows, and everything else an army on the move needs. Lara has opened the treasury, and is willing to pay well for quality work, and Sun God help anyone who tries to pass off shoddy workmanship.”
Heath looked up at where his torch licked at the ceiling above them. “And then there is the matter of the wyverns.”
“G-g-gone,” Joden said.
Heath shook his head. “Everyone is assuming that since they have flown off they are no longer a threat. I do not plan to make that mistake. Regardless,” he continued. “Keir is going to make a decision soon, probably within a few days.”
“You think he will go,” Amyu said.
“I think it is not in the Warlord’s nature to sit and wait.” Heath grinned.
Joden snorted, “Tr-tr-truth.”
“I suspect that Lara will go with him,” Heath said. “Taking the babies with her. My mother is working herself up into a state at the very idea.” He turned, looking down the passage.
“It’s not much further,” Heath continued walking. “We don’t want to lose the torches.”
Amyu gave Joden a push forward. He threw a grin at her, but moved quickly enough to satisfy her.
They went for a while in silence, until Amyu blurted out her burning question, “Will you go?”
“With Keir?” Heath shook his head. “No. I am Seneschal of the Castle of Water’s Fall.” Amyu could see the weight of his words on his shoulders. “I will hold this castle, and the city for Xylara.” He paused at a crossing of tunnels, then plunged ahead. “Atira has said she will not leave me, as we are bonded.” He stopped. “We are here.”
Amyu stood at the top of the steps leading down into a round room with a domed ceiling. She remembered the elaborately carved stone box in the center, where she’d found Joden sprawled, shivering and convulsing. But she lifted the torch higher, and gazed at the airions carved on the ceiling, circling with wings wide, carrying riders.
Riders.
Her breath caught in excitement. There above her, airions and their riders soared. Riders in saddles, like the one she’d seen in the cave. Amyu stood on tip-toe, watching the light and dark play over the carvings, trying to take it all in. Surely they were real, were not the thing of—
Joden’s voice brought her back to reality.
“N-n-nothing,” he said, his voice echoing on the walls. Joden was standing by the seated statue of a man, a stone sword in his lap. He leaned over, and splayed his hand out over the statue’s chest.
“He is not here?” Heath’s voice held an odd note.
“M-m-more l-l-like em-em-empty.” Joden said, pulling his hand back. “G-g-gone.”
“I am not sure if I am disappointed or relieved,” Heath said. He held the torch close to the statue’s face, looking at the carving. “What was he like?”
“D-d-demanding,” Joden said. “C-c-commanding. K-k-kingly.”
“Like Lara,” Heath laughed. “But don’t tell her I said so.”
“Look,” Amyu pointed overhead. “Look at that.”
“Well,” Heath said. “Airions.”
“With riders,” Amyu pointed urgently. “See? Not just legends.” She lowered her gaze to stare at Heath. “Xyson told Joden that if we wanted to fly we need to reforge the sword. What does that mean?”
“I have no idea,” Heath said with a shrug. “You should talk to Atira. She is working in the smithy of Dunstan, an old friend. She wants to make swords someday.” Heath smiled with obvious pride, but then gave Amyu a frown. “Where is the sword? Or what’s left of it.”
“I don’t know,” Amyu said. “I had the hilt—”
“Mother will know,” Heath said. “Come.”
They retraced their steps, extinguishing the lanterns as they went. Amyu was grateful to leave the cold and narrow tunnels.
Heath led them to the kitchens, which were wonderfully warm, noisy, and crowded with preparations for the nooning. Anna was in her usual glory, ruling the overheated hearths.
“Wandering the crypts,” she scolded Heath after he explained, her chins wobbling. “For what fool reason did you do that? Sit. You will need warming up from that cold stone.”
Amyu found herself seated on a long bench, Joden beside her, with a mug of hot kavage and bread and butter on a wooden platter.
“Eat,” Anna commanded.
“We just have a question,” Heath protested.
“Which I will answer as you eat,” Anna said firmly.
Joden didn’t hesitate. He took a slice of bread, slathered it with butter, and took a bite.
“Good,” Anna patted him on the head.
Amyu choked back a laugh, but Joden just looked smug. Heath rolled his eyes at both of them, but settled on the bench and grabbed his share of bread.
“Mother, do you know where the Crystal Sword ended up?” Heath asked.
“Of course,” Anna said, and went to her spice cabinet, her keys jangling. She pulled out a basket, and set it before him.
“You put the Crystal Sword of the House of Xy in a bread basket?” Heath asked as she set it before him.
“Safe, wasn’t it?” Anna asks. “All the shards are there, I saw to that.”
A clatter arose from the staff, and then the sound of shattering crockery. Anna frowned. “What’s that then?” she moved off, intent on the source of the racket.
Amyu looked in the basket. The hilt was there, but so were the shards of blue, some little more than slivers.
“Keep it,” Heath pushed the basket closer to Amyu. “Not much use now.”
Marcus came in with a tray, glaring as always. “You there,” he pointed his chin at Heath. “Hisself wants you.”
Heath crammed the last of the bread into his mouth, and took his mug with him.
“You,” Marcus’s glare focused on Amyu. “You will take baby duty tonight. Rest up. Keirson is cranky and refusing to sleep. You’ll probably be up all night.”
“Yes, Marcus,” Amyu said.
“Joden,” Marcus continued. “You are to rest as well. Master Eln is coming to see the babes this evening, and will be checking on you. Hisself will likely wish to talk as well.” He filled his tray with more kavage and left as abruptly as he had come.
The kitchen was in chaos around them, but the staff ignored them. Joden leaned over, pressing his arm to hers. “N-n-ap,” he nodded in the direction of his room, raising his eyebrows, his eyes hopeful.
Amyu nodded, suddenly dry mouthed. “Yes,” she whispered, suddenly fiercely glad. She’d have him for a time, but she knew full well he was not hers. The Plains would call him back. But she would steal this moments with him, take whatever days she could get and enjoy the sweetness.
The rest, she’d leave to the elements.
To Joden, it seemed the next few days passed like birds on the wing.
Keir was considering his options, and he called on Joden to sit in on the discussions. “I need your ears to hear truths,” Keir told him privately.
And so Joden listened to Warren and Wilsa of the Lark. He heard talk of warrior numbers, both Xyian and of the Plains. Detros was brought in with Heath, to talk of the castle and the city, how to secure the walls and withstand a siege.
Lara and Heath reviewed the costs. Joden’s head whirled at the way they talked of coin and tallied up numbers on papers. Keir also seemed overwhelmed at times, but they both learned as best they could, and trusted the Warprize’s judgment.