“Perhaps, then, you will change your mind in a few weeks.”
There was an emergency Council meeting that evening. As Red Shields carted off bodies from the battle within the Palace walls, and others scoured the ranks for any remaining Edlan imposters, the nineteen remaining Council members faced off and yelled at each other. Councilman Caldre argued vociferously for a head-on charge against the Edlanese army, while Malikel dismissed this as suicidal. Another Councilman suggested sending for help from Parna, but even Tristam knew that Parna would happily remain neutral while Edlan and Forge weakened themselves. And they’d make plenty of money selling supplies to both parties.
The problem was, there were no good solutions. The Council knew this, but as men used to power, they couldn’t come to terms with that fact. So they continued on with their posturing. They wouldn’t come to an agreement tonight, and by now, Tristam wished they would simply agree to go to sleep. He supposed he could ask to be excused. He’d given his testimony to the Council hours ago, and they hadn’t asked for him since. But tired and disheartened as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
The first time he heard someone knock on the window next to him, he thought he’d just imagined it. But he heard it again, in the silence between Councilman Caldre bringing up another impossible strategy and Councilman Perce ruling it out. A definite tapping—he wasn’t deluding himself. He casually stood and made his way over to the window.
“Kyra?” he whispered, still not quite believing it.
There was a soft tap on the shutters in reply.
Tristam’s rush of elation was quickly tempered by incredulity over what Kyra had done. She’d been in the forest, hadn’t she? Had she snuck past enemy lines and somehow into the city itself? True, she did have the cover of night, and Palace forces had better things to do now than look for her, but it was still reckless. And what was she doing here, anyway?
“Back corridor,” he said. “I’ll meet you there.”
He slipped out of the room and circled around to the servants’ corridor. As he’d hoped, it was empty at this hour. There was a small window, and he pushed the shutters open. After a moment, he saw a familiar outline in the darkness and stepped back to let her in.
Kyra jumped in silently, her body taut and her eyes actively searching the corridor for threats. Her hands, when he took them, were ice-cold, and he wrapped them in his own. “I can’t believe you snuck in like this.”
“I’m just glad you’re safe. What happened?”
Tristam recounted the Council meeting and Willem’s betrayal. Had it all occurred in one day? Anger built in Kyra’s eyes as he spoke. She pulled away from him and started pacing the corridor.
“I didn’t think Willem would go this far,” said Kyra. “I thought he at least cared for the city.”
“Well, the army hasn’t attacked yet.”
She turned to him, her gaze fierce. “I watched Edlan soldiers kill an old man today. His blood is on Willem’s hands, as is the blood of the soldiers who died in the Palace today. Is there any way for us to break the siege?”
“There’s posturing and debate in the Council, but no,” said Tristam. “We have nothing except for the prospect of a long and drawn-out engagement.”
Kyra seemed to waver over some decision before her eyes regained their focus. “I need to talk to Malikel, if he’ll speak with me.”
“You have news?”
“A proposal. A far-fetched one,” she admitted, with an apologetic shrug. “But at this point, I don’t see how it could hurt.”
When Tristam returned to the Council Room, he found Malikel listening intently to the debate, leaning over his table and looking from speaker to speaker with a gaze that could have bored holes in the wall. It was easy to forget that the man had been stabbed that morning. Malikel shook out of his focus as Tristam came to his side.