Mite looked as if she hadn’t expected that. “Help you?”
“I understand if you’re scared,” Noa said silkily. “The thing is, I just want to protect Astrae.”
“I want to protect Astrae too!”
“Hmm,” Noa said, pretending to plot as she sipped her custard. This time, Mite only watched her avidly. “I think I know how to find the Lost Words. But I can’t do it without your help.”
Mite looked torn. “Julian said . . .”
“Here.” Noa handed Mite the Chronicle. “Start a new entry. We’ll make a list of places where the mages might have hidden the Lost Words.”
Mite’s eyes grew wide as teacups. Normally, Noa didn’t allow her to touch the Chronicle. “You want me to write in this?”
Noa nodded. “This is very, very important. I know you’ll take good care of it.”
“I will,” Mite promised earnestly. She flipped through the Chronicle, looking for a fresh page. When she found one, she took a pencil and wrote the date at the top, just as Noa always did. She seemed to be trying to be as neat as possible, so it took a full minute. Her nose almost touched the page.
“Good,” Noa said. She slurped up the last of the custard and set the mug down. “Now, help me look for the map of the Ayora Sea.”
They found that easily enough, and Noa spent the next hour moving Julian’s telescope from one side of the tower to another, map in one hand and compass in the other. Unfortunately, the tiny islets of Greenwash were all on the map. Noa had been hoping that one would be missing, like Evert was. She told herself that the ancient mages had probably used different techniques to hide each magical language—it would be too easy to find them all otherwise. She found the coordinates Thadeus had given Julian and muttered over them for a while, but they covered too large an area to be helpful.
Mite followed Noa from window to window, taking painfully neat notes in the Chronicle. Noa was pleased by how well her ploy had worked. Mite seemed happy to go along with Noa’s plots if she felt like she was being included in them. Noa wondered why she hadn’t thought of that before. Mite chattered as they worked, jumping from some letter Renne had sent to how she didn’t think Julian should bop Reckoner on the snout when he was bad, because he’d just forget about it to demanding with a disturbing intensity that Noa tell her if she noticed any giant spiderwebs in the castle.
Eventually, Mite settled down on Julian’s bed with the Chronicle to sketch walruses, which Noa had suggested as a way of getting rid of her. She soon fell asleep.
Noa breathed a sigh of relief. Astrae had spun slightly west to remain invisible to the king’s ships, so she moved the telescope to a better window. She sat down in front of it with a sextant and began going through some complicated calculations. Perhaps the coordinates themselves were some sort of riddle.
Occupied as she was, she didn’t notice the shadows lengthening across the floor as the sun dipped toward the western horizon. Nor did she notice the strange icy breeze that mixed itself with the ordinary breezes and made Julian’s papers rustle like dry fingers. She did notice the prickling on the back of her neck. She looked up, and then around.
A ghost stood on the other side of the tower, watching her. The ghost had the shape of a woman, and she had fewer drifting tendrils than the others. Her features were difficult to make out, and she wore a long cloak that could have been either black or gray.
The ghost brushed a strand of colorless hair from her face, and Noa froze. The gesture was painfully familiar. Noa’s heart faltered. Slowly, the ghost became clearer, as if shrouded by a fading fog. The cloak was indeed black, with a cut that indicated its expense. Her face was still blurred, but Noa could see that the chin was sharp, the ears overlarge. And there was something about her eyes, the hint of wrinkles at the corners, as if from frequent bouts of laughter, that stole Noa’s breath.
Noa couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t. And yet—
“Mom?” she croaked.
The ghost lifted her hand. When she spoke, her voice was thin and strange, as if it were carried on a distant wind. “Noa?”
“Mom.” It was half a sob. Noa threw her instruments aside and sprang to her feet. It was her mother’s voice, her mother’s gestures. Her mother had come back! Nothing else mattered in that moment—not Xavier’s ships, not the Lost Words, not even Julian. She tripped over the telescope and was up and running again before she felt the pain.
“Stop,” her mother said when Noa was still a yard away. “I’ll fade completely if you get too close, honey.”
Noa froze. Her face was wet with tears. Up in the loft, Mite was snoring. “Why? Did the otters give you my message? How are you—”
“They gave it to me, sweetie,” her mother said. “But I’m not here just because of that. I’m here because you’re in danger—all of you. He’s getting close . . .”
Her voice faded in and out. Noa said, “You mean Xavier? Are his mages close to finding the Lost Words?”
Her mother said something that Noa couldn’t hear. Then, “I can’t stay long. I’m not strong enough. Can you come to me in Death? At midnight. Come at midnight. . . .” She flickered and nearly disappeared.
“Of course I will. I’ll do anything.” Noa’s vision blurred. “Please don’t go—”
“I know where . . . ,” her mother said. “I can help . . .”
“What?” Noa cried. Her mother was fading fast. She could barely see her outline anymore. “What did you come to tell me?”
But her mother was gone. Noa was alone.
24
Beetles Ruin the Banquet
The banquet hall was awash in light. The ceiling sparkled with tiny orbs, and every candelabra and chandelier glowed. Morning glory spilled in from the beach and wrapped around the columns, dangling its purple blooms over guests’ heads. Crowding the marble floor was a motley assortment of tables, which the servants had scavenged from various parts of the castle and from the village—they didn’t usually have banquets this large. The entire village had been invited, as well as all the mages and sailors, and of course General Lydio’s entourage. General Lydio and his wife, Pellia, were to be seated at Julian’s table as guests of honor.
Noa felt as if she was barely there. As if she was floating, drifting through the hall like a puff of thistledown. Normal things like talking and eating felt impossible, because thistledown didn’t do those things—it just drifted, unless it got stuck in something, like a spiderweb. Sometimes Noa felt like she was stuck in a spiderweb, too. She just stood, staring at nothing, until the wind—or one of the guests—did something to jostle her free.
She had seen her mother.
Noa hadn’t intended to go to the banquet. After her mother’s ghost had vanished, Noa had left the tower and wandered around the castle in a daze. Some part of her had been looking for Julian, but instead she had bumped into Renne, who had hustled her into the hall, muttering about tardiness. If she had been able to speak, Noa would have told him that she didn’t care if the banquet and all the guests went tumbling into the sea.
People milled around the cavernous hall, which opened onto the basalt bluffs at the north end of Astrae. Mite, no doubt drawn to the banquet by the promise of double dessert more than the company, stuck so close to her that she often stepped on her cloak.
She had seen Mom.
Mom had come to help them. But how? What did she know? Noa’s head whirled. It had sounded as though her mother thought Xavier was getting close to finding one of the lost languages. If so, they would be in danger indeed, particularly if Xavier’s mages discovered that the Dark Lord was right under their noses.
Julian hadn’t joined the banquet yet, and neither had General Lydio. Noa drifted outside, where a dozen people were gathered on the rocks, enjoying the warm night and the orbs scattered over the uneven rock. Well-dressed strangers who Noa supposed were General Lydio’s officers looked at her with interested gazes, clearly thinking about striking up a conversation with Julian Marchena’s siste
r, but Noa crossed her arms and glowered, and they thought better of it.
“You don’t have to stay with me the whole time,” Noa said to Mite. She wished she could abandon the banquet, but even in her stunned state, she recognized how important General Lydio’s support was to Julian. She couldn’t risk offending him. “Why don’t you go have some coconut ice?”
“That’s okay.” Mite looked perfectly happy to hover in the safe shade of Noa’s scowl. She rummaged around in her pockets and began fiddling with a handful of small black dots that looked unnervingly like live beetles.
A young man wearing General Lydio’s colors sidled up to Noa. He had a tanned, handsome face and a big white smile. “Good evening. You must be King Julian’s little sister.”
Noa let him bow over her hand, hoping he would go away. “You must be someone with eyes,” she replied, to encourage him in that direction.
Unfortunately, the young man continued to linger. “You’re a lucky girl to have a brother like him. The most powerful mage in the kingdom.” He actually winked. “Not to mention one of the best looking.”
Noa couldn’t imagine what Julian’s good looks had to do with her, other than the fact that they increased the number of Julian’s annoying suitors she had to deal with. She suspected that her life would be easier if Julian were covered in boils.
“I don’t suppose you could introduce me?” the young man said.
Good grief. This was the last thing that Noa wanted to be bothered by right now. I don’t suppose so, she almost said, but clearly the young man wasn’t easily discouraged.
“Sure,” she said, forcing a bright smile.
He smiled back. “Thank you. I’m sorry if I’m being a nuisance. You must get asked this sort of thing all the time.”
“Not so much anymore,” Noa said. “People got put off once Julian’s dates started disappearing.”
The man’s smile froze on his face. “What?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Noa added. “Julian jokes about how he feeds them to his sea serpent afterward, but I’m sure that’s all it is—a joke. He has a weird sense of humor.” She gave a sisterly laugh. “I mean, it’s true that there have been a few disappearances and, you know, Beauty has been putting on weight, but they probably just get spooked. Julian can be intimidating.”
“Ah, yes,” the young man said. The smile was melting off his face.
“Besides, his dates don’t all disappear.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “Only the ones he doesn’t like.”
The young man slowly backed away. “I see.”
“Oh, look! There’s Julian now.” Noa gave a big wave in the direction of a potted plant. When she turned back to the young man, he was halfway across the room. She gave a satisfied snort. She would have to remember that one. She leaned against a column, her eyes fixed on the obsidian clock that took up half a wall.
Four hours until she saw Mom again. She felt dizzy, then sick. Where was Julian?
“There you are!” Kell called, slicing her way easily through the guests, who sprang aside as soon as they realized who she was. “I heard you had quite the adventure last night. Wish I’d been there to see His Royal Highness give that traitor the comeuppance she deserved.”
Noa nodded faintly. It felt like the sea serpent rescue mission had happened weeks ago.
“Still queasy?” Kell squeezed Noa’s shoulder with her calloused hand. “You look like you swallowed a fire lizard.”
Noa shook her head. The thistledown feeling faded a bit under the weight of Kell’s concern. “Is Julian here yet?”
“Just arrived with General Lydio—there’s a sly old fox if I ever saw one. Come on, they’re waiting for us.”
Noa took a deep breath. She wasn’t in the mood for any of this, but part of her couldn’t help feeling pleased at the prospect of sitting next to Julian at the head of the royal table while he officially welcomed an ally for the first time.
Julian was resplendent in a new black cloak with glittering dragons embroidered into the sleeves. His hair was actually clean and brushed, and he was smiling warmly as he spoke to a man with blondish hair and a pointed nose. He looked every bit like a king, and the other guests seemed to sense it, too, for they all maintained a respectful distance, even his own mages.
“General,” Julian said, motioning to Noa as she approached with Mite stuck to her heels like a barnacle, “these are my sisters, Noa and Maita.”
Noa wasn’t sure if General Lydio could see Mite from that angle, but he greeted them good-naturedly anyway. Noa didn’t think he looked much like a fox. He looked old and small, and he was wearing many layers of expensive fabric from which his head stuck out like a turtle’s.
“I hear you’re the brains behind the throne,” he said to Noa with a wink, and Noa understood then what Kell meant, because he was clearly trying to flatter her. “Perhaps you can advise me on whether I’m making the right decision in siding with your brother.”
Noa tore her eyes from the clock and forced herself to focus on the general. This man could become Julian’s most important ally. “It’s the right decision,” she said. “Julian is the rightful king of Florean, after all. Whether it’s a smart decision or not, I don’t know. Which island are you from?”
General Lydio paused, as if he hadn’t expected this. He looked at Noa with actual interest, not just flattering interest. “Sevrilla.”
Noa nodded. “That’s close to the islands Julian already controls. You probably wouldn’t have to worry about King Xavier attacking it to get revenge on you for switching sides. And of course, you would be the first general to side with Julian, so you’d be rewarded after he becomes king. Strategically, I’d say it’s the smart decision.”
Julian looked amused. General Lydio blinked rapidly. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face.
“Most impressive,” he said. “I’ve been thinking this over for months, and you summed it up in ten seconds. And I suppose the little one is a whiz at economics, is she?” Mite, who had been poking her head out from behind Noa to watch the conversation, flushed and disappeared again.
“Though you’ve left out one thing,” the general went on. “I’ve long been troubled by the rumors I’ve been hearing about Xavier. Some of his councillors whisper that he’s planning to expand his campaign against dark mages. That he wants magic wiped out in Florean altogether. If that happens, I fear it’s only a matter of time before one of the kingdoms of South Meruna attacks us. They hate magic, but they also fear it, and if Florean’s mages disappear, all that will be left is their hatred of us.” He smiled faintly. “You might guess that as a general, I spend most of my time thinking about war. But in fact, I think about preventing it. Your brother is better for Florean than Xavier.” He grimaced, glancing across the room at Kell. “Despite the company he keeps.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed. “Captain Kell is one of my most valued councillors.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” General Lydio bowed his head, though his expression was carefully blank, and Noa knew he wasn’t convinced. He wandered off to speak to a woman even smaller than him, who Noa assumed was his wife.
“You gave our guest a turn,” Julian said, smiling at her. “Lydio says he supports me, but whether he’ll do anything about it is another question. It sounded like you gave him a push in the right direction, my Noabell.”
She felt her anger at him crumble away in the face of that familiar smile. “Julian,” she said quietly, “I need to talk to you. This afternoon, in the tower—”
“I’m a little busy,” he said, motioning to Kell. “Can it wait until after the banquet?”
Noa glared at the side of his head. “No, it can’t,” she said, pulling out her chair. “You should probably sit down first—”
“What are you doing?” Julian said.
Noa blinked. “Is sitting down not allowed at this banquet?”
“Oh—I’m sorry, Noa. That seat is for General Lydio. His wife sits next to him, an
d Renne and Kell are at my right hand. You understand—as much as the general seems to like you, it would look strange to have children at the head of the table. Stefan will show you where you’re sitting.” He lowered his voice. “Keep an eye on Mite, and tell her to get rid of those beetles. Preferably outside.” He turned and said something to Renne, his expression distracted.
Noa felt as if she’d swallowed ice. She numbly followed the servant to a seat at the opposite end of the table. Mite sat next to her, and beside Mite was General Lydio’s son, who had the general’s sharp nose and blondish hair. He was probably about Noa’s age. Mite took one look at him and edged her chair closer to Noa’s, as if he were contagious with something.
Noa helped herself to lemon shrimp—usually her favorite—without actually seeing it. She wasn’t even sitting with the other councillors—she was sitting with the children. Across from her was Asha’s granddaughter, as well as two more girls she didn’t recognize who must be part of General Lydio’s entourage. Their father sat next to Noa, and he kept leaning over her plate to talk to them as if Noa weren’t there.
Her heart thudded in her ears. It was as if she had never been made a royal councillor. Had that even been real, or had Julian only done it to make her happy? She remembered the condescending looks many of the other councillors had given her. They had thought Julian was humoring her, his silly little sister. And now it looked like they were right. Noa sawed her shrimp into bits with trembling hands. Part of her knew it didn’t make sense to get this angry over where she sat at dinner. But being angry about that made her remember that she was angry at Julian about other things, and those thoughts kept going round and round in her mind, and got louder when the man beside her leaned so far across her plate that his beard trailed in her tomatoes.
There was a clamor outside the banquet hall. Two guards entered, each gripping a man roughly by the shoulder. The men were both young, Julian’s age or less, and wore General Lydio’s colors.
“We caught them trying to break into your tower, Your Highness,” one of the guards said.
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