I have to tell them the truth. Soon. Speculation would be running wild. But if she told them she was dying before she had an heir, there would be panic in the city, across all of Aratay. “How ready is your candidate, Champion Havtru?” Daleina asked quietly.
“Frankly, she isn’t. She can boss around one at a time very well. Have it going up, down, sideways, acrobatics, you name it. But she can’t stretch herself to command more than one. We’re working on it. She’ll get there. She’s a good girl. Tries hard. You’ll like her.”
It didn’t matter if Daleina liked her or not. If she couldn’t command multiple spirits, she wouldn’t be suited to be queen. “How many days away is she from success?”
“Don’t know. Never trained a candidate before. But Esiella tells me she’s been trying for a year and almost did it twice. Maybe a few months? I don’t know if my candidate will be the one, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t say that in front of her, of course, but I’m thinking you want honesty.”
“I do. Thank you, Havtru.” She hoped the others were farther along. She’d need to announce the trials soon, ideally at the same time as she announced her illness. The trials would distract the people and push the candidates to be ready. “Please push her as hard as you can. I cannot let this kind of disaster happen again.”
“If I am to be honest . . .”
“Please do.”
“Many of the other champions were, let’s say, optimistic in their reports. I don’t think any of them are ready yet. At all.”
“None?” Surely he was exaggerating. They had to be close.
“Well, Yanan had one that was close, but she died. And Gura’s . . . she thought hers could be ready, but she died too. The best ones keep dying off. We’re pushing them too hard, I think. People have limits. You have limits. You should let me take you back to your quarters. The healers should tend to you.”
At last, they reached the east staircase. The walls were buckled out, but there was no trace of the spirits anymore, or any hint of who or what had brought them here. This hall didn’t look any more special than any other. She expected to find a slew of bodies, but there were none. Why had they congregated here if not to attack? She thought this would be the worst of it, but it was oddly empty.
“Let me take you back to your quarters,” Havtru repeated.
“I have to find my sister,” Daleina said. “I have to be sure she’s safe.”
“A guard can do that.” Havtru called to one of the guards, and an uninjured woman with a streak of blood on her cheek jogged to them. “Find the queen’s sister, and make sure she’s in a secure location.”
The guardswoman bowed and hurried away.
“Now will you rest?” Havtru asked Daleina.
She nodded and didn’t ask him to let her walk. She just rested against his chest and endured the stares as they passed by more and more of her people.
As they approached her quarters, Captain Alet ran toward them. Her helmet had slipped, and her hair had unraveled. Her armor was streaked with blood and soot, and her sleeve had a jagged slit. “Queen Daleina!”
“I’m all right,” she told Alet. “I’m relieved to see you in one piece.” Here, at least, was one friend she hadn’t lost. She thought of Linna and Revi and Mari, and how she was failing them.
As Alet checked the room for spirits, Havtru carried the queen inside.
It was pristine: perfectly made bed, beautiful sunlight through the open doors to the balcony, a slight fire in the hearth. For a moment, she was shocked, and then she realized there hadn’t been anyone here to hurt. The spirits had gone after only the parts of the palace where there were people to kill. “It’s my fault,” she gasped. As Havtru opened his mouth to speak again, she waved away his words. “I know I didn’t intend this. But Piriandra was right: I failed. I’m failing. We need the trials now.”
“More candidates will die,” Havtru predicted. “They aren’t ready.”
“Make them ready.”
“You can’t just will it so. Even you, Your Majesty.”
She closed her eyes as he laid her gently on the bed. “I can try.” Listening, she heard him close the curtains around the bed and back toward the door. She heard him and Alet talk in low voices. He’d stay and guard her, she knew, along with Alet. Ven had trained him well.
He was a good teacher. She thought of his student, the woman Naelin. He hadn’t had a chance to answer on her progress before she collapsed. She hoped Naelin was as advanced as he’d expected. From the champions’ reports and Havtru’s statements, she had the clear impression that no one else was.
She felt a spirit arrive. The curtains shuddered, but she didn’t move. Even tired, she knew she could control one spirit if she had to. But if she didn’t have to, she wasn’t going to expend the energy or risk another false death. The spirit perched at the foot of her bed.
At last, she opened her eyes to glare at it.
It was a tree spirit, tiny and gnarled, with leaves matted all over its body. Possibly the same spirit who had been in her bedchambers before. “Come to gloat?” she asked it.
“Yesss,” it hissed.
“If you would be so kind as to gloat elsewhere, that would be delightful.” She wished she could tell it to burn. She wanted to destroy every spirit that had participated in today’s slaughter.
“Their blood was sweet. It flowed into our branches.”
“Go,” she told it, but she didn’t put the force of a command behind the word.
“We watch. We wait. You will fall again, and more will be ready.” It rubbed its hands together, and it sounded like leaves in the wind. “We will feast.”
It’s right. Next time, the death toll would be worse, because more spirits would be ready, waiting, watching. She couldn’t let that happen. As soon as anyone was ready to be heir, she had to abdicate, whether or not the poisoner had been found.
She raised her voice. “Captain Alet! Champion Havtru!”
The two warriors burst into her bedroom, swords and knives drawn. Squealing, the spirit darted out the window. Alet shut and locked the door behind it, and Havtru stalked around the room with his sword raised.
But even with the two of them, she did not feel safe.
Chapter 22
As soon as she felt the queen take control of the spirits, Naelin ran. Scrambling over the roots that bulged out of the walls, she squeezed down the stairs. There were caretakers and courtiers in every room and every hall, with healers moving between them. She saw sheets over bodies, far too many bodies. People—many who looked wounded themselves, who shouldn’t even be up—were cleaning the residue from fires and hacking at tree limbs that had grown out of walls. She didn’t pause.
Erian. Llor.