“Unless they thought you’d been given one already,” Faro Nast suggested.
Juria nodded. “Since then, we’ve learned that the Halians are headquartered in Pudova.”
Faro Nast signaled to one of her two aides with a lifted finger. “Have you numbers?”
“Now that your people have dealt with the squads in the forest, there are barely two hundred Halians in Pudova,” the Inquisitor said.
Faro Nast turned to her aide. “Jade Cohort Leader will take three companies. Report to the Laxtor when they’ve taken the town.”
“Your people will need to be careful of the twisted ones,” Juria said. “The ones the Halians—”
“We’re aware of the Halians’ activities in that regard, Faro, thank you. We still have our own Talents with us, though none are of Inquisitor Pa’narion’s rank.”
Juria pressed her lips together, inclining her head. All things considered, she didn’t mind giving the other Faro a report, but she wasn’t sure she liked the woman’s tone, with its implication that her Bears had somehow fallen short of Battle Wing standards. But Faro Nast’s next words cleared that feeling away.
“I’m amazed you were able to hold out as long as you have, with only the two companies of Bears you kept with you,” she said, shaking her head. “Oste isn’t even a real fortress, for the Mother’s sake. I’m going to put you and your people in for a commendation.”
“If there’s anyone left to award it to us,” Juria said. “And speaking of such things, when do the rest of your Panthers arrive?”
“I’m afraid they won’t be arriving.”
“I don’t follow.” A point of ice grew in her chest. Juria was afraid she followed all too well.
Faro Nast laced her fingers together. “Now that you have your engineers to refit this place, and the area’s been cleared of Halians, one Wing—or most of it—will be enough to hold this fort and keep the pass secure.”
Juria leaned back in her seat, taking a deep breath in through her nose. The whole point of building Oste in its present location had been to make sure it couldn’t easily be used to seal the pass against the Peninsula—no Luqs had wanted to be besieged or boxed in by land in that fashion.
Of course, no one had foreseen the present need to do exactly that.
“Let me understand you. We all know Oste is not close enough to the pass to be a truly effective deterrent.” Juria waited, but Faro Nast said nothing. “You have just finished telling me it is only by the direct intervention of the Mother that I have been able to hold the fort itself in the face of the Halian invasion, and now you tell me I am expected to continue doing so?”
“No one’s suggesting that it’ll be easy. But it could be done.” Tonia Nast leaned forward, propping herself with her elbows on the tabletop. “As things are now, you should be able to hold the pass with regular patrols.”
“And while I am here, impersonating a cork in a bottle, what are the other Wings doing?” Juria didn’t bother to hide how she felt.
“Right now the Polity’s strength gathers in Juristand,” Faro Nast said, “and we will coordinate operations against the Halian Empire from there.”
“Juristand.” Juria hesitated, unsure what she could say without offending the other Faro. Juristand was an administration center second only to Farama the Capital itself, and what Tonia Nast was suggesting certainly made sense from a purely administrative point of view, but the city was at the eastern edge of the Mid Sea, and the implications . . . .
“You are going to choose a new Luqs. And in the meantime, you intend to abandon the Peninsula.” She was almost daring the other woman to deny it.
Tonia Nast sighed, as if she didn’t want to be the one who spoke the next words. “You know what our standard orders are when an area has been overrun. From what intelligence we can gather, that is the case with the Peninsula. There is no military post of Eagles left—and precious few Eagles. You know what that means.”
Of course, Juria knew. It was just that the Polity had spread out from Farama. The Peninsula itself—safe behind mountain ranges and rugged sea coasts—had never been attacked, let alone overrun.
“Halians have also put ashore at Lebsos and Maglas, and they gained a foothold in Cantoli before any Wing could mobilize fast enough.” It was as if the Faro of Panthers had read her thoughts. “The Halians are seafarers and that’s been our downfall. Even if we could navigate at this season, we have no ships large enough to transport the number of troops we would need to retake Farama by force. Things are stable for now, but if we mount an expedition to regain the Peninsula?” The other woman shrugged.
“But what about the prince? It’s not just the Peninsula. You are talking about abandoning the true Luqs of Farama. The person from whom we derive our authority.”
“Do you suggest rather that we ‘abandon,’ to use your word, all the other citizens of the Polity—for many of whom, let me remind you, the Peninsula is very little more than the place they send their taxes? And for what? By your own report, Dern Firoxi has gone over to the enemy and must be considered a traitor to us, and to the Polity. The child, his son, is in their hands—though, granted, they don’t know what they have. He could be put to death at any moment, undoing our every purpose.”
Juria clenched her teeth.
Tonia Nast turned a hand palm up. “Again, according to your own reports, these Halians want some red stone that apparently exists in the Serpents Teeth range. Let them occupy themselves there, while we prepare strategies for the future—and yes, that may well include choosing a new Luqs. Let us strengthen our hold on the rest of the Polity. The Peninsula is a great loss, but our loyalty must be to the whole, not to a part, however rich in history and tradition.”
Juria glanced at the Inquisitor. His face was hard, his eyes narrowed, as if he saw something Juria didn’t see. Or maybe she saw it, but just could not believe it.
“The destruction of the Halls—” she began.
“Should we endanger the rest of the Polity in what can only be an act of revenge? And how many more of the innocent in the Peninsula will die? I respect the Talented, I always have, but sending the Wings into the Peninsula won’t bring any of them back. I’m sorry to interrupt you, Faro, but what’s done is done.”
“And your sister?” Juria felt she was grasping at straws.
“Cohort Leader Ester Nast is missing in action. A possible fate for any soldier.”
“I believe the Faro of Bears spoke of your other sister, Kerida Nast.” Luca Pa’narion’s dry words fell into a moment of silence.
The Faro of Panthers turned to face him. “By your own rules, Inquisitor Pa’narion, Kerida Nast is no longer my sister.” She turned back to Juria. “Have you any questions?”
“Is there any point in my asking about relief or reinforcements?”
“I can leave two cohorts of my Panthers here, to bring you to full strength, if you wish it. In which case, you may be sure that I, for one, would be taking a close interest in what passes here.”
Which might mean anything, Juria thought. Best to speak carefully. “I will consider your offer, Faro of Panthers. But I must be clear, by what authority do you direct me? I am Faro of Bears, and you are not in yourself senior to me.”
Tonia Nast jerked her thumb at the door and her remaining aide scrambled to leave the room. She waited until the door was shut before leaning forward again. “I’ll speak plainly, Juria. I speak with the authority of the Battle Wings. In the absence of the Luqs, or any other supreme commander, this has been decided by majority vote of Faros.” She sighed again and abruptly became more human. “Though how long this consensus will last, your guess is as good as mine. You’re quite right, Juria, I can’t compel you to stay. But I hope you’ll agree to.”
“That is why you brought me my people.”
Tonia leaned back, drumming the fingers of her left hand on
the arm of her chair, her eyes slanted to the right. “It’s what I would have wanted done for me,” she said finally, raising her eyes.
Juria felt the directness of the other woman’s gaze, and understood. A Faro with no Wing was just a soldier. A Faro with a Wing to back her—or him—was a person who could act as she saw fit.
Faro Nast might be informing Juria of the decisions made by the majority of Faros, but in bringing her Bears to her, Tonia Nast was giving Juria the chance to decide for herself. She wished she knew the other woman well enough to know whether this act of support was also a hint to what Nast herself wanted. She’d reported the will of the Wings, but not what her own vote had been.
“I must take Inquisitor Pa’narion with me, but I will leave two of my Talents with you.”
Luca’s face went completely still. “You certainly have no jurisdiction over me.”
“I’m sorry, Inquisitor, but I must insist. The shortage of Talents is dire. And, with the fall of the Peninsula, those remaining are without guidance and leadership. You may be the highest ranking Talent left in the Polity, and you will allow us to ensure your safety.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m sorry, I really am. I wouldn’t be in your boots for anything.”
Juria waited until the door closed behind her. “Well. That was interesting.” A sudden need for movement brought her to her feet. She yanked open the door. The orderly—a Bear—in the outer room was still standing from the passage of the Faro of Panthers. “Jess, I need the Laxtor.” She noticed Cuarel standing off to one side, and jerked her head at the room behind her. The Feeler woman sprang forward and went immediately to stand beside Luca.
Juria wrinkled her nose, but she wasn’t annoyed with the Gifted. “What do you suppose the Panther really wants me to do?”
Luca looked up from his clasped hands. “You assume she has an agenda?”
“I assume I’d have one, if it were me bringing another Faro the better part of her strength. But does she want me to help the young prince, or does she want me to destroy the Bears trying?”
“Or does she want you in her debt when she makes a move for the throne herself?”
Juria choked off a laugh. “She wouldn’t be the first.”
“Uh, Luca? Luca, we have to go.” Cuarel shot Juria an apologetic twist of a smile.
“That’s what the Faro of Panthers was just telling us.” Luca frowned. “She wants me with her.”
“No, we can’t. Weimerk says his girl’s escaping. We’re needed.”
Luca Pa’narion got to his feet. “Well, Faro, you’ll have to excuse me.” He didn’t need to tell her he had no intention of going with the Panthers. And he wasn’t about to tell her where he was planning to go. But Juria thought she could guess.
And that guess gave her an idea.
She took a deep breath. “A moment, Inquisitor. These mines. How many people will they hold?”
The worst moment came not, as Ker had feared, inside the building, but once they were out in the streets. Inside, she’d been able to Flash where everyone was, though not who they were—something for which she thanked Mother and Daughter. If she’d Flashed Tel, she didn’t know what she might have been tempted to do.
Flashing kept them out of everyone’s way until they’d reached the kitchen, empty except for the scullery serf, rolled in a rug and snoring on the hearth in front of the banked fire. From the smell of him, he’d been into the cooking brandy, and they didn’t need to be as quiet as they were. Ker was just relieved they didn’t have to do anything to him. She hesitated with her hand on the door latch.
“Someone out there?” Wynn’s breath was warm on her cheek.
Ker shook her head and lifted the latch, letting in the cooler outside air. Not the time to tell Wynn that this wasn’t her first kitchen escape. At least she wasn’t alone this time.
They scrambled over the courtyard wall with the help of a convenient handcart and hurried to put some distance between them and the administration building. They hadn’t gone far, just turned two corners into an alley Jerek pointed out to them, when Ker swallowed, leaning with one hand on the frosty stone wall.
“What?”
“I can’t go on Flashing.” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. “I’m getting too much information.” A cat had stalked and eaten a mouse in this alley two hours before. The cat had been very pleased with itself and the mouse had been nothing more than a bright point of fear. On the other side of the wall was a . . . “If I was better trained, I could put up only a partial block, but I’m just not strong enough.” She was exhausting herself. Why hadn’t she done the blasted exercises her Tutors kept scolding her about?
Wynn put her hand on Ker’s shoulder. “We’re outside now, so we should be all right. There’s never a large city watch.”
Jerek was shaking his head. “Not before, but according to what I heard, there’s at least a Barrack now.”
Ker swallowed again. It couldn’t be helped. Terestre. There, her stomach unknotted.
“Nothing to worry about,” Wynn was saying to Jerek. “The day we can’t avoid a few guards is the day I resign from the military and give up my plans to be a Faro.”
“You want to be a Faro?” the boy asked.
“Do I look crazy?”
Ker smiled in spite of herself.
After that, they stuck as much as they could to the smaller alleys and laneways at the backs of houses, though at one point they’d had to cross one of the broader streets. At the worst moment, a guard pair entered the street at the far end.
“Do they see us?” Jerek asked.
“If we see them, it’s likely they see us,” Ker said. “Don’t run.”
Sure enough, the pair turned to walk toward them, calling out the challenge.
“Crap.” The odds were very slim that these guards wouldn’t recognize them. “I’ll take the one on the left.” Wynn nodded.
“Give them the password,” Jerek whispered. “Owl tail feather.” The boy looked from Ker to Wynn and back again. “It’s tonight’s password.”
Wynn immediately tilted her chin up, and in a surprisingly deep voice called out, “Owl tail feather!”
The two approaching men halted. For a moment they stood still, and Ker’s heart pounded. Then the one on the left raised his spear in salute, and the guards turned and continued their patrol in the direction they’d been headed in the first place.
Ker waited another heartbeat before herding the others into the next alley.
“Lucky they didn’t catch us in here,” Wynn said. “They’d have asked questions for sure, password or no password.”
“How did you know what the password was?” Ker asked Jerek.
“I was in the hallway when the commander gave it out.”
“That was lucky.”
“At least you didn’t have to use the jewel.” Jerek rubbed his nose.
“Don’t even joke about it,” Wynn said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Who was joking?”
Ker grinned again, and pointed up the alley. Before they could move, another voice spoke out of the shadows.
“Now what jewel would this be, my dears?”
Ker shoved Jerek behind her, and pulled the rolling pin free from her belt. She took a step forward, the man’s eyes shifted toward a movement to the side, and Ker’s swing connected the rolling pin to his head with a hollow “thok.” He grunted and Wynn eased him to the ground.
“Nice distraction.” Ker swallowed.
“Someone’s running away,” Jerek whispered.
“Let them go,” Ker said. “Whoever it is doesn’t want the attention of the watch any more than we do. Check him for weapons,” she added to Wynn.
“Teach your grandmother.” Wynn had turned the man over and was patting him down. She paused when Jerek made a soft noise. “What is it?”
<
br /> “I think I know him,” the boy said, squatting down by Wynn’s side. “His name is—was?”
“Is,” Ker said. “I only knocked him on the head.”
“Is then. His name’s Danler. He works for an old woman named Goreot. Part of a gang.”
“Criminals?”
Jerek shrugged. “They didn’t seem to think so.”
“Are they against the Halians? Would they help us?”
The boy thought, brows furrowed, before shaking his head. “She’d want to be paid somehow.”
Ker nodded. “Drag him into the shadows, then,” she said. “He’ll have a chance to avoid the watch. No point in making an enemy of him.”
Svann took a third deep breath, let it out even more slowly than the first two, and this time succeeded in opening his left fist, and revealing the vial of dust. Three doses, perhaps, taken carefully. That would buy him time. Another deep breath, and he managed to put the tiny glass container down on the tabletop next to the griffin’s claw he’d taken from the witch. Running out of dust did not come close to the catastrophe that was losing the soul stone. He had perhaps a week before the possibility of exposure to anyone who mattered. Everyone else he could take care of. So long as he regained the stone.
He reached for the vial again . . . and again drew his hand away. This time he stood up from the table and went to the window, resolutely putting from his mind what would happen to him if the other Shekayrin found out he had lost his stone—or, of even greater importance, how he had lost it.
Experimenting with a Talent. He could have justified that, could still justify it, with the information he had learned about how the magic of the body worked. Physical trials seemed to have no effect. The onset was with puberty, as the Mage Edmard Pevelen had once theorized. But did that mean, for example, that if puberty was delayed, or otherwise stopped, would the magic of the body disappear? Would castration and spaying have any effect?
If he got the soul stone back before the others found out how he lost it, his experiments could continue. The girl—the witch—could live. If not, she would die, and he would be ruined.
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