Harfor said she was headed to the council in Barivum, to convince them to release more funds and consecrate more Enchanted. Even if they were in a hurry, and traveling at Rancor’s full speed, they’d never reach Barivum and come back fast enough to be here now. Which means they must never have left at all.
Was it because she didn’t trust me? Because she wanted to keep an eye on me? But why leave the witch with me at all, if she was just going to linger offshore? Why not take him somewhere deeper in the Empire, somewhere safer?
I hug my arms around myself. The council. More funding. Roiven being brought here, and the witches attacking, and Rancor sinking the survivors. It’s all connected. I’m going to be sick.
I turn on my heel and stumble back towards Roiven.
“Your dragon found you here,” I say. My legs feel too heavy, my mouth numb, the world unsteady.
“Yes.” In the moonlight I can see the worried look on his face, eyebrows knitted.
“Through the enchantment.”
“Yes,” he agrees again, uncomfortably. “She’s my familiar. Nothing can get in the way of that.”
“When I asked, could she sense you through the barrier, andyousaid, why else would they have brought you here… you meant they knew. You mean they knew she could follow you, and they brought you here not just in spite of it, but because of it.”
Roiven doesn’t answer. I rest my hands on my head and turn, surveying the island, hoping another answer,anyanswer, will occur to me.
“How could they know that?” I burst. “No witch can get through the barrier. It’s impenetrable.”
“They captured one of my warriors a year ago. Her familiar followed her in,” Roiven tells me softly. “They saw it happen. She died, but the familiar escaped, and told us.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Of course the War-Father has gained new knowledge in the time I’ve been in exile. But why would HarforbringRoiven here, knowing he would be followed by the most powerful of the witches’ dragons, knowing the Bluff had no real defenses but a rusty knight with no enchantment to draw on, as if Harfor were inviting the island to fall?
Because she wanted the island to fall, my mind answers, but surely no knight would slaughter her own people—except, of course they would. After all, we kill the Enchanted. Necessary cruelty. If the deaths furthered the war…
“They need more weapons,” I whisper, my voice so high and thin it could shatter at any moment. “They… they need more Enchanted than the council was willing to spare, in order to win the war for good. That’s why Harfor brought you. That’s why she waited here, isn’t it. But why not let the other exiles escape? Why not letsomeoneescape?”
“They wanted a tragedy,” Roiven says quietly. “It’s not as sad if there are survivors. Especially if those survivors could figure out the truth.”
A frantic energy in me threatens to boil over. Even if some of the other knights would do that, Harfor wouldn’t. Not to me. How can she hate me that much after everything we went through?
I won’t forget you. That was what she’d said. And I thought it meant she wouldn’t abandon me here. But instead, she was imagining me as nothing more than a memory already.
My hand curls around my sword hilt. Flexes. Loosens. I pace, walking faster. Those people died. Malkin, Angar.
I’ve killed so many I’ve lost track. I’ve held my sisters and brothers and siblings-in-arms as they died. I’ve watched whole Hellions go under on the front, swarmed by dragons and their riders, as the War-Father bellowed orders, his whole body glowing blue from Rancor’s power as we knights charged, slashed, slaughtered, driven by Rancor’s exultant glory.
But this. Killing our own people, behind our own borders, just to gain political leverage. That is nothing I have seen before.
That is not the glory of the Empire I was raised to love.
I halt in front of Roiven.
“Harfor must have known you’d fly away with Sava. But surely killing you is worth more than any number of Enchanted. You’re the strongest witch they’ve got.”
“Your familiar determines the size of your magic,” Roiven says. “If I died, Savasaeirn could bond with someone else, after a time. Whoever she chose would be the new king, or queen, since she’s the strongest of the remaining familiars.”
“So killingyouhas been pointless all along.”
“Not…pointless…”
“Just not as useful as gaining the council’s support from this attack,” I mutter. “Because as deadly as you are, someone new could take your place.”
Roiven nods.
They deliberately let the king of our enemies go, the man who sank my entire ship and killed nearly my whole crew, not tomention how many other Hellions he’d sunk before. They caught him, and theyreleasedhim here, just so we could kill our own people, so they could justify strengthening the military's resources.
