All the color drained out of the champion’s face. Her hand drifted to her sword hilt. Headmistress Hanna laid her own hand on Piriandra’s shoulder. “Revenge will come later,” Hanna told her quietly.
“No revenge,” Daleina said. “I need you focused on protecting our soldiers. Can you do this? Lead the champions with their candidates? Protect our soldiers from whatever spirits Merecot sends against them?”
“Of course.” Piriandra bowed.
“Chancellors, you will focus the troops on the human enemy. It’s a single squadron. You should be able to hold them. Chancellor Quisala, you will command the soldiers in the northeast of the city, and Chancellor Isolek, the northwest. We cannot let Merecot take the capital.”
“But the spirits—” Isolek protested.
“We will protect you from them,” Champion Piriandra promised.
“Only those that attack the troops directly,” Daleina told the champion. “Let the others pass you. Do you understand? Keeping Merecot and her soldiers out of Mittriel is your sole goal.”
Piriandra objected. “If the spirits—”
“Heir Naelin will handle the spirits that target the city. Your duty is to the soldiers. Do not let them take the capital. Headmistress Hanna”—Daleina turned—“you must protect the academy. I believe that Merecot will send forces to attack you and your students directly. Her strategy has been to remove anyone with power. The academies will be among her prime targets. Inform your colleagues, and then prepare your students.”
Hanna suppressed a shudder. Surely Merecot wouldn’t attack students. They were children! Then again, she wouldn’t have thought Merecot would attack her homeland either. So yes, if she did, then Hanna would guard them—with her life, if necessary. “We will be ready,” Hanna promised. Her teachers would all make the same promise, she knew.
Daleina turned to the seneschal. “Refugees will be coming from the north and northeast. People will be frightened. They’ll flee to the palace.”
He bowed. “We will keep them out.”
She shook her head. “I want you to let them in. Open the storerooms. Distribute supplies. Set up cots in the throne room and halls. Use the palace however you see fit to house as many as you can.”
The seneschal looked pleased. “It will be so.”
“Your Majesty,” Chancellor Isolek protested, “won’t Queen Merecot target the palace?”
“She will, but as a prize. She won’t destroy it,” Daleina said. “She wants it for herself. And we will not let her take it. She will not rule here.”
Hanna had never been more proud of her than she was in that moment. Daleina looked every inch a queen. There would be many more tales written about her, many more songs sung, beginning with the story of this moment.
Assuming anyone lives to tell it, Hanna thought.
Chapter 31
Daleina gripped the tower window. Wind whipped against her. Leaves swirled over the city, and the trees swayed. She could feel them: the foreign spirits. They were flowing across the forest like a wave, sweeping away everything in their path.
Merecot’s earth spirits were tearing through the land, causing bedrock to tilt and pierce through the surface. The land shifted, and the trees toppled. Daleina felt her own spirits howl in rage. But Naelin was holding them back, within two miles of the city.
The enemy wasn’t close enough.
It was sound logic: if Daleina controlled them and blacked out, they’d feel her death and turn on her people. If that happened outside of Naelin’s range, there would be no stopping them. So it was better to wait and let Naelin control them from the start. Avoid the risk altogether.
Daleina dug her fingers into the wood and wished she dared command them. North of the city, people were fleeing from the destruction. Their homes were crumbling around them. The very earth was betraying them. She was betraying them. She’d sworn to protect them, and here she was, seemingly doing nothing while they lost their homes, possibly even their lives.
I could abdicate, she thought. She could let Naelin take the crown now. Naelin could then command the spirits throughout Aratay . . . unless she couldn’t. Unless the coronation failed. There had never been a coronation ceremony with only a single heir, and there was no guarantee the spirits would accept Naelin. Plus she’d need to take the crown without the traditional seven-day grace period. Daleina had no proof that the spirits would even accept a new queen without those seven days. They might, if the new queen were powerful enough—the seven days could be mere tradition—but she didn’t know for certain. No, it was too great a risk. She’d hold out and wait, until the spirits reached the capital, until Hamon had her cure. He had to find it.
Alet . . .
No, I can’t think about her right now. Not yet. She’d lost so many friends, to death and now betrayal. Every loss felt like another bit of her soul was sliced away. She wasn’t certain how much more she could take, but she wasn’t ready to give up. Abdicating felt like failure. “Am I being selfish, Ven?” she asked softly.
He was beside her, close enough to hear. Naelin was on his other side—she gave no sign that she’d heard Daleina, and Daleina hoped she hadn’t. “You must be. Aratay needs you.”
“Naelin could do it.”
“I’m not burying another queen,” Ven said.
So she held her power in check and kept the spirits close.
The chancellors had issued orders to her soldiers. She knew they waited as well, as the refugees poured into the capital. Her seneschal was welcoming as many as he could. He’d had tents set up in the gardens. The palace cooks were distributing food, and the caretakers were handing out blankets and other supplies. She’d received word from Hamon that her sister was with him—Arin was safe, at least for now, and if they could keep the invaders out of Mittriel, she’d stay safe.
“I hate waiting,” Ven said.
Daleina nearly laughed. He sounded like a grumpy child. A choked giggle burst out of her lips. She swallowed it back in.
From near one of the tower windows, Naelin snorted. “You should like waiting. When the waiting ends, the killing and dying begins. I’d rather wait an eternity.”
“You don’t feel it? The taste of the air, the beat of your heart—there must be a part of you that wants to release all your coiled energy. Strike out. Let loose your anger and your fear.”
“Mostly fear,” Naelin said. “How am I supposed to defeat a queen?”
“You just have to hold her and her spirits back until Hamon finds the cure,” Ven told her. “You don’t need to defeat her; you just need to buy time. Until Daleina can fight too.”
Except Merecot was always stronger than me, Daleina thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. It was the best and only plan they had. Daleina’s advantage was that she was defending her home. Her people. Her sister. She hoped that would be enough.