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I knew what she meant. It wasn’t a soldier defending a foundry, or men guarding a room no one was supposed to see. These had been assassins sent specifically to kill me.
“It’s got to be breakfast time by now,” Danello said. “Want me to go down to the kitchens and get you something?”
Aylin jumped up. “You stay, I’ll go. I need to get out of this room anyway.” She left, giving me a wink as she shut the door. Where would she go first – the kitchen or to see Quenji? I was a bit surprised he hadn’t come by yet, but maybe the guards were keeping everyone away.
Danello smiled at me, but he was worried, too. “Good thing you’re not easy to kill.”
No, I was just easy to hurt.
“Healers are always hard to kill,” I said. “In the war, the soldiers would aim for their eyes or their hearts – kill them quickly before they could heal themselves.” You could always tell a Healer’s body by the wound that killed them.
Danello scooted closer and put his arms around me. I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I know the last few months have been awful,” he said. “Saints, the last five years have been awful, but we’ll get through this.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” He pulled back and took both my hands. “Because we have each other.”
He smiled in a way that made it suddenly hard for me to breathe. He leaned in close, hesitating a whisper’s length away, then kissed me. A hot tingle ran down to my toes, like a flash all over my skin, but a good flash. It was suddenly hard to think too, but I was tired of doing that anyway.
“Wherever you go,” he breathed into my ear, “I go.”
* * *
Aylin returned much faster than I’d have liked, not even bothering to knock first. Her hands were empty, but her eyes were full of fear.
“Something’s going on and I don’t think it’s about you,” she said, not even giving me a sly grin after Danello and I jumped apart. This was serious.
“Any clue what?”
She shook her head. “People are running all over, Ouea doesn’t have any food set out, and I swear the servants are packing.” She paused, then gasped. “Oh! And the guards outside your door are gone.”
“They’re gone? Without telling us?” I rose. That couldn’t be good. “Did you see Jeatar?”
“No, but there were people coming in and out of the library.”
“Let’s go find out what’s going on.”
It was morning already, and sunlight poured through the windows. Servants were indeed running around with crates and carrying objects wrapped in tarps. Faces were tight, pale and worried.
Jeatar stood at the big table in the library, maps spread out before him and soldiers around him. Ellis was there, but I didn’t see Onderaan.
“…down through the plains so we can stay ahead of them,” he was saying, running his finger along something on the map.
I stepped into the room, Danello and Aylin close behind me. “What’s going on?”
Jeatar looked up. “The Duke’s army is mobilising, and it looks like he’s coming here.”
I went cold.
“We received a message from Baseer. The Duke is ferrying troops over to the west side of the river. He’s moving supplies, support staff, everything he needs for an extended march.”
“How many soldiers?” Danello asked.
“Rough estimates – between ten and fifteen thousand.”
“That’s too many.”
A brief smile flickered on Jeatar’s lips. “It is. He’s going to hit us, but we can’t be his only target.”
“You’re sure he’s coming here?” There was no reason to attack us. I’d caused him a mess of trouble, but you didn’t send a whole army after one person. Shiverfeet raced down my back.
Not unless that one person could destroy everything. Someone you thought you’d already killed.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Jeatar looked over at two men entering the room. He held up a finger, and I waited while he spoke to some of his guards. They hurried back out, shouting names. Jeatar turned back to me. “There’s no strategic reason for him to cross the river. The road from Baseer leads to both Verlatta and Geveg and is much more suited to travel. The only things of value on this side of the river are the aristocrats ready to stand against him.”
That wasn’t true. Jeatar was here. And I was pretty sure he was the rightful heir to the throne of Baseer. If I was right and the Duke had figured it out, he’d come after him fast.
“What about the people?” Aylin asked.
“I’m evacuating everyone to Veilig,” Jeatar said. “That should get them out of the Duke’s path and away from the fighting. He won’t chase us.”
“He will if he’s after you,” I said. The Duke had burned an entire city to get to Jeatar’s father and the rest of his family. Everyone who could have claimed the throne instead of him. I didn’t know how Jeatar survived, but he had scars he kept covered up.
For the first time, I could read Jeatar easily.
He was scared.
“He’s not after either of us,” he said evenly, his blue-grey eyes boring into mine. “This farm is where people who want to see him stripped of power are gathering. I knew we couldn’t stay a secret for long. Some secrets you can’t hide forever.”
Like his secret? Did he suspect I’d guessed? I could ask him right here, right now, and everyone would know who he was. Our resistance could finally have the leader it deserved, one who was strong enough to keep the aristocrats in line and get everyone working together.
But that would make Jeatar the biggest target in the Three Territories.
If the Duke knew he was behind the rebellions, he’d destroy every town he suspected Jeatar of being in, just like he’d destroyed Sorille.
I couldn’t put all those people at risk. Not until we were ready to fight.
“Is he going after Geveg?” I asked.
Jeatar let out a held breath and nodded. “That’s a reasonable guess. He’ll want to make Geveg an example, quell the other rebellions, and eliminate any support the aristocrats have gained.”
More guards came in and Jeatar turned away again.
If the Duke was going after Geveg, then the rumours about the Gov-Gen had to be true. Maybe all of them were. Geveg was fighting back, kicking out the Baseeri. Once they were gone, Gevegians would regain control of the pynvium mines, reclaim what was stolen from us.
The Duke would never allow that. He’d do anything to keep those mines, keep the pynvium. Even destroy us.
And when he was through with Geveg, he might go after Verlatta. Then there’d be no safe place to run to in the Three Territories. There wouldn’t even be a Three Territories any more. I tried not to picture it, but the images came anyway. Flaming pitch arcing through the air, splattering against roofs and buildings, fire spreading through the city.
Geveg might not even know the Duke was coming. Someone had to warn them.
Someone like us.
Which meant abandoning Tali again. Stopping my search for her. If you stop the Duke, you can get her back for sure. The odds of that were just as slim as finding her with no idea where to look. But Tali was probably with his army, and his army was headed to Geveg.
“We have to tell Geveg they’re in danger,” I said to Danello and Aylin. “They can’t possibly know the Duke is coming.”
Aylin gaped at me. “You want to go home now?”
“She’s right, we have to,” Danello said. “The more time they have to prepare, the better chance they’ll have of defending the city.”
She hesitated, lips tight, then she nodded. “OK, I’ll tell Quenji. Knowing him, he’ll love the idea of running into certain death.”
“Are you going to tell Jeatar?” Danello whispered.
I glanced over at him, deep in conversation with his soldiers. “I’ll tell him before we leave. He has more important things to worry about right now.”
“I want to go with you,” said Lanelle, cornering me in the dry-goods storeroom.
“Go with me where?” I’d been running around like everyone else on the farm, gathering supplies. I’d sent Quenji after a horse and wagon, since he was the most likely person to actually find one. I did warn him against stealing it from someone who needed one, though.
“To Geveg.”
I nearly dropped a bag of goat jerky. “You do know it’s about to be invaded?”
“They’ll need Healers.”
Even ones who’d betrayed them? Maybe Lanelle saw this as her chance to redeem herself.
“I’m sorry, but—”
“Please, Nya.” She grabbed my free hand. I fought the urge to yank it away. “I can help, I really can. I know people, and I know things about the League you don’t. The Elders talked around me, even about things they shouldn’t have.”
Because she’d helped them. But she did have a point.
“You’re not going to get over there and join the other side?”
She actually looked hurt. “No, swear to Saint Erlice I won’t. Baseeri lie – I know that now.”
Not all of them, but it was a step over the right bridge.
“Please, Nya?”
I sighed. Aylin was going to kill me. “OK, you can come.”
The heat from the forge wrapped around me as soon as I turned the corner. Hammer strikes of metal on metal rang out, mixed with duller thuds and some impressive swearing. I still hadn’t come up with a story as to why I needed pynvium, but since I’d stolen it in the first place, I figured some of it was mine.
Smiths banged away, no doubt trying to get the last of something made before we had to leave. Weapons maybe, or tools. Maybe just metal ingots that would be easier to carry. Onderaan worked in one corner off to the side. I cringed. I’d really hoped he wouldn’t be here.
“Onderaan?”
He turned, frustration on his face. He seemed surprised to see me. “You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”
The forge was on the farm grounds, but it wasn’t connected to the house.
“I know but I, uh, needed some pynvium.”
“I think the weapons have already been packed, but I’ll see what’s here. There might be some pain-filled scraps left.”
“Any healing bricks?”
“Bricks? Why would you need – oh, Nya.” He sighed, rubbed his eyes. “What are you going to do?”
“Warn Geveg. I know it’s dangerous, but I—”
“You sound like your father.”
“I do?”
“Not the warning part,” he continued, “but the going-where-it’s-dangerous part. Going to Geveg where it’s dangerous, specifically.” He sighed and sat on a corner of the unfinished forge. “But you need to go, just like he needed to go.”
“He went to Geveg?” I’d always thought he’d been born there. I should have known that wasn’t true as soon as I’d learned he was Baseeri.
Onderaan nodded. “When he was nineteen. Our grandfather was governor then, and his ore finders had just discovered a huge pynvium vein in the mountains. Geveg needed enchanters to smelt it, and Peleven wanted to go help. I asked him not to leave, but he didn’t listen.”
“Why didn’t you want him to go?” Geveg was safe back then – no Baseeri soldiers on the streets, no Duke telling them what to do.
“It was a lot of pynvium. Mountains of it, and Verraad was already making a fuss out of claiming it for Baseer, trying to get his family to listen.”
Verraad. The Duke, before he was Duke. Was that when he first started thinking about killing his father and brothers?
“It made Bespaar nervous, and when he was nervous, our father was nervous. Bespaar knew too much about what his family argued over, how different their politics were. Your father should have been nervous too.”
“Who’s Bespaar?”
“The heir.”
I glanced around. The other smiths were out of earshot, the bellows and hammering drowning out anything we’d say.
“You mean Jeatar’s father?” It was a guess, a risk, but I needed to know who the man who should have been duke was.
Onderaan’s eyes widened. “Who told you?”
So it was true.
“No one. Jeatar has the Duke’s eyes and lots of money, and he keeps trying to help people without anyone knowing he’s doing it.” I’d figured that out not long after we’d left Baseer. “And I saw his burn scars when he pulled me out of the Luminary’s office. He was in Sorille when the Duke burned it, wasn’t he? Plus little things he’s said and done. It all filled the same bucket.”
Onderaan smiled at me the way Papa had when I’d done something well. “You have a way of seeing what no one else does.”
