Clearing her throat, she said, “I think accepting an armed presence is a good idea. If Varian decides to retaliate for our stopping his weather mages, our force is too small to defend the town on our own.”
“I agree.” Margot shook her head. “And if you had asked me that two weeks ago, I would have said oh hell no.”
Lily gave her a twisted smile. “I used to think the goddess wanted me to make some kind of grand, big choice that would take us down either one path or another. Now I think we all face a series of choices every day—explore this, don’t do that. Choose to do the right thing or the wrong one. Agree to work together. Break the law. And our lives become the sum of each chosen moment. You know, I almost decided to go to Guerlan for the Masque, but when I read Varian’s invitation, I knew we were going to be facing a hard winter, and I didn’t want to spend the money.”
Margot shuddered. “I’m so glad you didn’t go.”
“Me too.” Looking down at her desk, Lily said, “The plans are sound, both for security for the Masque tomorrow night and for what happens when the army leaves. I approve.”
After Margot left, Lily gave up trying to work and ascended her tower to sit and watch the flames in the hearth. Her thoughts formed, spun, and reformed, and like a kaleidoscope, the landscape changed, depending on how she looked at it.
The future was always full of an almost infinite number of potential paths. Just because she had dreamed of a life with Wulf, that didn’t ensure it would happen. She, of all people, should have remembered that.
For the first time she realized she hadn’t seen any visions for the past several days.
Maybe that was because, for the goddess, the critical choice had already been made. Maybe it had never been about picking either of the two men who even now were at war with each other.
Maybe the critical decision had always been about the fight to save innocent lives, choosing to take action to stop the weather mages and accepting whatever consequences that came because of it.
If that were so, it might be enough to satisfy Camael, but it wasn’t enough for Lily.
Wulf didn’t come to visit that day.
12
The Masque in Calles the next evening was delightful in every sense of the word.
Bonfires, placed at strategic places, provided golden light and heat for anyone who needed to warm up in the middle of festivities. The foundling children from the abbey played with the townsfolk children on the ice while smiling guardians watched over them.
Musicians played on almost every street corner, and the food—dear gods, the food. The abbey hauled cartfuls of both sweet and savory pastries across the strait along with roasted turkeys and hams and baskets full of fresh apples. The shops remained open, and the food merchants sold their wares, but the largesse from the abbey was free to all. Everyone assured Wulf that they had cut back on extravagances that year. The inhabitants of Calles knew very well that they were still facing a difficult winter.
But to the men who had been eating camp rations for weeks, it was a veritable feast, and there was plenty of ale for purchase at both inns. Still, eight thousand troops was a lot for a relatively small town to absorb, so the Braugne soldiers passed through in rotation, giving everyone a chance to dance, eat, and drink a little before the night was through.
Not everyone wore masks. Jermaine had forbidden any of the troops to disguise their faces. The security risk was too elevated. But many of the townsfolk, and those from the abbey, wore costumes and masks.
After all, there was a touch of romance to be had in dancing with the butcher’s wife, who pretended to hide her identity behind a pretty mask of peacock feathers. Or the Sea Lion’s innkeeper who wore a horned stag’s head but who still gave himself away with his booming laugh.
The whole event, set against the backdrop of snow, was so damn charming and picturesque Wulf was wild to get out of there.
He was ready to go. His possessions were packed. Both Karre and Mignez had sent the troops they had promised in their treaties, and six thousand men waited for him at the juncture where Calles’s border met Guerlan’s. His own army would march in the morning, but Wulf planned on going on ahead with a smaller party that night.
There was just one thing that kept him from leaving.
Lily hadn’t made her appearance yet.
He stood at the mouth of the alley by the Sea Lion, leaning against the corner of the building, arms crossed, as his restless gaze roamed over the crowd.
Then children ran down the streets, shrieking, “It’s time! It’s time!”
People hurried to move back from the center of the street, making way for the procession of the gods. The person who played the part of Taliesin came first, leaping and twirling as they made their way down the street, dressed in a costume that made them appear to be half man, half woman.
Then the other gods walked past, each in costumes that portrayed their roles—Death, Love, the Oracle, the god of the Gift, and Law.
And last came the goddess of the Hearth, and of course it was Lily. Dressed in a golden gown that simulated flames, her dark hair pinned up behind the mask of a beautiful, smiling woman, she looked otherworldly and magnificent, and the entire crowd—the Braugnes, the townsfolk, and the abbey alike—roared in joy.
Wulf didn’t raise his voice with the others. When he saw her, his chest constricted, and a pain swept over him that was so fierce it almost drove him to his knees.
When Lily walked past, she looked at him, and the gold of her costume caught in her eyes.
He had thought to say goodbye to her at the Masque. He hadn’t taken into account how everyone would swarm her when the procession of the gods had ended. With a slight, bitter smile, he watched the large knot of laughing people. She was lost in the middle of it, too petite for him to see.
Very well, he would write her a farewell letter instead. Perhaps it was better that way.
He said to Gordon, who hovered nearby, “I’m headed back to camp. Tell the rest of our party we’ll leave in an hour.”
Gordon nodded. “Yes, sir.”
After Wulf walked back, he lit a lamp, dug out the chest that contained his writing materials, and sat at the table. For a long while, he stared at an empty page, pen at the ready, but what could he say?
I wanted you more than anything, and then I loved you.
And then I saw how much you love your beautiful home, and I loved you too much to take you away from it.
Closing his eyes, he put his head in his hands.
From the direction of the tent flap, Lily said, “All ready to leave, I see.”
He had heard nothing, not even the sound of the tent flap being disturbed. Her cloaking spell was that good.
Astonishment roared. He surged to his feet. “Seven hells!”