If all she could do was vex the queen right now, that was what she’d do. Fie went to help. After a few flags, she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
He bumped her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”
The hour-bell began to chime. Fie called a Vulture tooth to see what Viimo had to say and found the skinwitch pacing north-south, pausing in the north. “Khoda wants to meet.”
Jasimir stuck a last pin in the flag. “We can bring Patpat with us to the Mother of the Dawn’s grave.”
Fie blinked at him. “It’s a god-grave?”
“Yes?” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I just… didn’t feel a grave there.” Fie’s mouth twisted. “Why’s it outside? Doesn’t it throw off the… the symmetry?”
Jasimir spread his hands like matched wings, thumbs touching to make a head. “Well, the statue’s outside, but the grave itself could be right under the thrones. Twelve on each side of the Divine Galleries, then the Mother of the Dawn at the middle.”
Fie could have sworn Pa had said there were but two dozen dead Phoenix gods, but Jasimir would know best.
They snuck back to the foyer of the royal quarters, where Jasimir was able to summon Patpat with the crinkle of a wrapped fish treat. The Hawks on guard barely acknowledged them as they left.
Khoda was waiting at the statue for them, scrubbing a marble pedestal that at this point shone like a second sun, so clean it was. He looked to be sore irked with them but tilted his head to the back of the pedestal.
“We have a game changer,” he said once they had huddled.
Jasimir made a face. “So do we.”
“The queen’s mapping our shrines, Crow shrines, with skin-ghasts,” Fie said in a rush. “We fouled up her map, moved the markers around, but she’ll find them again. She and Tavin have signed orders to start Hawk raids—”
“It won’t get that far,” Khoda interrupted. “Until they’re crowned, they need the master-general’s approval on any Hawk actions. And that’s wheremygame changer comes in.” He allowed himself a weary grin. “The plague beacons weren’t just lit by panicking Hawks. The guards were commanded to ignore the queen and light them. And the one who gave that order… was Draga.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PATIENCE
“At this point, I feel like I should just give up on trying to tell you two to stick to any kind of plan.” Khoda was doing his best to look severe as the three of them headed to the wing of the palace that housed the Hawks and their generals, but the effect was rather ruined by the fluffy orange tomcat attempting to stand on his shoulder, his magnificent tail waving like a war banner. His leash draped like a garland over Khoda’s head. “What else do you want to do while you’re here? Steal the crowns?”
“It was a calculated risk, and it paid off,” Jasimir said primly. Patpat was walking beside him on a leash fastened to his harness, chirping at the prince every so often as if to hurry him along. They’d stopped by the guest quarters, collected three cats and one of Yula’s preapproved requests to send in cat-masters, filled in the relevant information for Draga’s office, and set off before the next hour-bell.
Fie had found that Barf liked the leash even less than her harness; she’d flopped on her side and refused to budge, making Fie carry her in her arms. “Granted, if they’d gone near the window seat, they’d have found us. But they didn’t, and we’re all the better for it.”
Khoda cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve heard stories about the prince and that window seat.”
“Please, no.” Jasimir covered half his face with a hand.
Fie stared at him, both delighted and wary. “What kind of stories?”
Khoda shook his head, his smirk making the red lines on his face look all the more like whiskers, and gestured to the prince.
Jasimir let out a long sigh. “I… may have… engaged in certain activities, for the first time, on that window seat last year.” Khoda coughed. “And I was not aware Father would be giving a tour of the private gardens to the new ambassadors.”
Fie recalled the lovely view the study had had of those very gardens. The windows were crystal, not glassblack; that view definitely went two ways. She let out a gleefully outraged cackle. “You rolled your first lad on those cushions? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What with all themass murder plotting, it didn’t seem like the time!” Jasimir’s cheeks flushed darker. “Besides, he was my languages tutor and Father had him dismissed by the end of the day, so it was only the once. He’s our age and very charming, so I’m sure he had no trouble finding someone new. I’d rather we all forget about it.”
“The tutor certainly didn’t.” Khoda swung the orange tomcat off his shoulders and set him on the ground. “Come on, Jasifur.”
“You’re not calling him Jasifur,” the prince said immediately. “His name is Mango.”
“That’sthe objection?” Fie muttered. Khoda and Jasimir didn’t seem to hear, embroiled in impassioned debate. She noted with interest that the flush on Jasimir’s cheeks still lingered. Khoda might not have been her type, but she could hardly fault the prince for histastes when she’d just watched her last lover sign death warrants for her kin.
