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“And the Tribunal clerics let her?”
“She’s a harmless old woman. What was she going to do?”
I nodded. “So they were all scared of her.”
“Terrified.”
Fredrick said, “We went to Onal first, and used her to pass messages to your mother and Simon, make plans. Then I went secretly to my old comrades in the guard and recruited anyone still loyal to the queen. We didn’t have as much force as we would have liked, which made storming the castle impossible. So we had to be furtive and use our only real advantage: Simon. We drugged their night guards and dragged th
em into the room, where Simon created an illusion to make them look like himself and the queen.”
“And that worked?”
Kellan said, “It got us out. I’d hate to know what kind of punishments those two had to face when the rest of the Tribunal figured out they weren’t their actual prisoners.” His wide grin said otherwise. “We’d have been sunk without Simon. After we broke them from the room, he made himself and the queen virtually invisible until we were out of the city. It was the damnedest thing.”
“I can’t imagine,” I said dryly.
Fredrick picked the story up where Kellan left off. “The Tribunal didn’t realize she was missing until well into the next day. By then we were halfway to the port at Hallet.”
“But the Tribunal still holds Syric?”
“They do. We’ve gotten the queen to safety; she’s with a regiment of soldiers at the Silvis family’s holding halfway up the fjord. We wanted her to start making plans for our next move to regain the capital, but all she can think about is you and your brother.”
“And what about Simon?” I asked. “Is he all right?”
“You can ask him yourself,” Kellan replied. “He’s with Onal right now, two tents down. So is Conrad and your friend with the baby.”
I raced in the direction he’d pointed me, and when I located the right tent, I tossed the flap aside to find Conrad on a stool with a miserable look on his face. Onal stood behind him, tugging a comb through the knots in his curly locks. She didn’t even glance up before saying crossly to me, “Look at this mess. You couldn’t have wiped some of the smudges off his face before bringing him in front of an entire troop of soldiers? He’s supposed to lead them one day, Aurelia. He can’t command their respect when he looks like he rolled around in a trash heap all day.”
I threw my arms around her bony shoulders, and she patted my back in a rare display of fondness before saying, “I sure hope your stink doesn’t get into my clothing, young lady. I’d prefer not to smell like a cesspool.”
“How is my mother?” I asked, pulling away.
“She’s well.” I turned to the new voice coming from the other corner of the tent. Simon was sitting back against a pallet, next to Nathaniel. He was rocking a sleeping Ella and smiling, but he looked haggard and sallow, as if he’d aged years in the weeks since I saw him last. “My family’s property isn’t large, but it’s well secured. She’s more than safe there until we return. Until then, she sends her love to you both.”
“What happened to you?” I asked, aghast.
“Aurelia!” Onal chided. “Where are your manners?”
“Bleeding oneself daily does take its toll,” he said, and I nodded. Back in Renalt, I’d been so eager to learn blood magic, so dismissive of the pain and exhaustion, mental and physical, that would accompany it. I understood better now: the strongest magic requires the greatest sacrifice.
Simon carefully shifted Ella back to Nathaniel. “It was a good thing Lord and Lieutenant Greythorne acted when they did; I’m not sure how much longer I could have lasted. And the Tribunal were like wolves outside a farm gate, licking their chops and waiting for their first chance to get in.”
“You are not out of the woods yet,” Onal said, turning her attention back to Conrad’s hair. “That’s why I had to come along on this little jaunt: to make sure he didn’t die on the way here.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Though he’d be doing better if he just took my concoctions without constantly complaining like a dumb baby.”
Sorry, I mouthed to Simon. Onal’s concoctions were notoriously potent in efficacy and rank in flavor.
“I’m glad you’re both here,” I said. “There’s a lot I need to tell you all and very little time in which to do it.” I looked over my shoulder at Kellan, who was waiting quietly for me by the door flap. “I’ll need all the support I can get.”
* * *
In a private tent, Onal provided me with a bucket of frigid water and orders to scrub myself clean (“Down to the bone, if that’s what is necessary to get that smell off of you”), then left me alone while she took my tattered clothing away.
I doused myself with water and soap, chattering with cold, resisting the temptation to be hasty by telling myself I couldn’t rescue Zan smelling like I’d climbed out of a swamp. “If you burned my dress,” I said when Onal returned several minutes later, “I’ll have nothing else to wear.”
“Nonsense,” she said, brandishing an entire uniform made up of pieces borrowed from women of the guard. I got into the breeches well enough myself but required her help with the tunic. Lifting it over my head, she had a good look at the plentiful bruises and scars I’d acquired over the last weeks. Sighing, she said, “If your mother knew what you’ve been through, her heart would surely break in two.”
I wanted to say that I was fine, that I’d made it through unscathed, but I couldn’t. I was changed in vast, irreversible ways.
