“We’ve seen them flying overhead,” confirmed a neutroi who was dressed in a naval uniform—Esofi supposed they must have been an admiral. “Unfortunately, they’re too fast for our warships. We’re lucky if we manage to get in a few shots of the harpoons before they’re already gone. Hitting them in the wings is the only way we’ve managed to kill them, and that’s only happened twice.”
“Your Majesty, you know our borders are simply too long for us to defend it all,” said one of the men. “We can afford to leave the south, because Vesolda would never march on us, but it is not so with Xytae. The battlemages must be spread across the northern and eastern borders—”
“No,” said Esofi stubbornly. “They will be spread too thinly. They must remain here.”
One of the women gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you intend to let them attack Birsgen, then?”
“They do not require my permission to do that,” said Esofi. “It is the vaults beneath the castle that call to them—that is the reason for their movements inward.” She thought of the place where her dowry was being kept. No doubt her addition made the scent even more irresistible. “We must act as though an attack on Birsgen could come at any moment.”
There was a knock at the door. All fell silent and looked to it in confusion—who would interrupt such an important meeting? But the knocking only became more insistent. After a puzzled pause, King Dietrich strode over and pulled the doors open.
Standing before him was one of Archmage Eads’s apprentices, red-faced and sweating. He doubled over to catch his breath.
“Your Majesty!” he sputtered. “You must come quickly!”
“What has happened?” demanded King Dietrich. “Speak, now!”
“We have had a sign from Lady Talcia!” he cried, and then went back to gasping.
Esofi grabbed her skirts and surged forward. “Where!?” she cried. The apprentice looked up at her and pointed down the hall.
“They’ve gathered in the healing ward,” he said.
Esofi had no idea where that was, but fortunately, King Dietrich was already moving. With Lexandrie at her heels, she followed him down the halls that were becoming more familiar with every passing day and into an area of the castle that she’d never visited before. They came to a large set of doors painted with symbols of Adranus, and King Dietrich threw them open.
Gathered inside the room was a strange assortment of castle staff and Birsgeners, all looking shaken and confused, sitting wherever they could find a space. The castle healers seemed to be at a loss, running around frantically but without purpose. The chief healer, a high-ranking priest of Adranus, was arguing hotly with Archmage Eads.
“What is going on?” demanded King Dietrich, and the room fell silent—for a moment. Then one of the Birsgener women started crying loudly.
“My lord,” began Archmage Eads. “We, that is, I—”
Lexandrie gave a sudden gasp, and Esofi moved closer to the weeping woman. She was dressed in the ordinary clothes of a Birsgen shopkeeper, and her head was lowered. She seemed to be holding something in her hands, something that glittered like sapphires.
It was the light of magic.
Esofi felt her heart stop for just a moment.
“You were not born with this, were you?” Esofi asked, drawing nearer. The woman’s pale eyes, rimmed with redness, met her own.
“None of them were,” said the priest of Adranus from behind Esofi. “When the first one came in, we thought it was merely a mistake in our recordkeeping or an oversight.”
“I told you,” spat one of the men who was standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in rage. He had the scent of a tanner about him, and Esofi found herself wishing she had an orange to cover the smell. “They thought I was wrong. As if I lived thirty-five years not knowing I had magic.”
Esofi did a quick count of the room. There were eleven patients in total, but nobody could say how many new mages were scattered throughout Ieflaria, waiting to discover their gifts.
“I have never heard of anyone being granted magic later in their life,” volunteered Archmage Eads. “In Ieflaria, it has always been taught that Talcia only grants magic to babies at the moment they draw their first breath.”
“It is so in Rhodia as well,” said Esofi, her head spinning. She’d barely begun her work in Ieflaria, and Talcia had already made her approval known. How could this be?
But Esofi realized that she could wonder about that later. At the moment, she had a room of frightened citizens to reassure. She released the woman’s hands and stood.
“I’m sure I cannot imagine how you’re all feeling right now,” said Esofi. “But in time, I hope you will realize what a wonderful gift you’ve been given—the opportunity to defend your city in the coming months, rather than leave the fight to foreigners.”
None of the Birsgeners looked particularly enthused.
“I have three children,” said one of the other women at last. “I can’t risk my life to fight dragons. You have to understand that.”
Esofi bit back an impassioned speech about serving one’s country, and instead said, “Even so, you must be trained. You could harm yourself or another if you lose control. We are setting up a university in the Temple District, but now it is clear we cannot wait for construction to be complete.” She looked to King Dietrich for his approval, but before he could reply, the doors swung open again and Adale strode in. She paused for a moment to take in the gathered group and then gave a half-incredulous laugh.
“So it’s true?” she asked.
“Adale,” said King Dietrich disapprovingly. “Why are you here?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” responded Adale. “It’s my country too. If we’ve had a sign from—from Talcia, or whoever, I think I ought to…”
Her voice trailed off very suddenly.
“What?” asked Esofi. Adale seemed to be staring at one of the men, who was dressed in the uniform of a castle footman.
“Audo?” she asked the man, tilting her head to one side. He looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Adale whipped her head around to look at another woman—one of Mistress Abbing’s maids. “And you, too! After the last lunar service!”
The maid bit down on her own lip heavily but was silent.
“Adale, what are you talking about?” King Dietrich’s voice was heavy with impatience.
“They both kissed the woman!” said Adale triumphantly. King Dietrich stared at her as though she had gone mad, but Esofi’s mouth opened very slowly.
Almost two thousand miles away on a slightly raised platform in the center of the great domed entrance hall of the University of Vo Dianene was a statue made of white marble. The statue was life-sized, depicting the Goddess Talcia leaning over a cradle, her lips pressed to the forehead of a sleeping infant. As a child, Esofi had always thought the baby had been Talcia’s own, until she was old enough to learn the truth.
One of Esofi’s tutors had explained it to her, how the goddess granted magic to newborn babies by kissing them as they slept, and this was where mages came from.
“You saw her?” Esofi whispered, because it was a choice between that and screaming.
Adale looked at her in confusion.
“You saw her?”
“I—just—I suppose?” Adale shrugged helplessly.
Esofi wasn’t sure why she was crying, but there were tears in her eyes nevertheless. She gripped Adale’s arms, desperate and possibly insane. “What did she say to you?!”
“That she wasn’t going to kiss me?” Adale seemed to be paralyzed, and she glanced over at her father for help. “I don’t… I didn’t realize she was anyone important!”
“You all saw her?” demanded Esofi of the gathered Birsgeners. “She visited everyone except me?”
“Wait, was that what that was all about?” asked one of the men, catching on at last. “I thought she was just a drunk!”
Esofi released Adale’s arms and very slowly crumpled in on herself, her skirts fluffing up to meet her. Anxious hands were upon her at a moment; one of the medics waved a sponge of salted perfume under her nose.
If only her parents weren’t on the opposite end of the continent. If only the Silence of the Moon wasn’t all but nonexistent in Ioshora. If only there was someone she could talk to besides an apathetic archpriestess and her confused underlings.