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“Yes.” Lio’s tone held no trace of self-doubt.
Cassia recognized that answer for a diplomat’s consummate bluff. She knew Lio was terrified that the answer was no.
“Can you convince the king to remove the Aithourians from your camp?” Lio asked. “Perhaps by allowing them to take the blame for the untimely deaths of your men by friendly fire?”
“Well,” Lord Hadrian said, “I begin to see how you got that confession out of Corona’s golden boy. I think your plan will work.”
“Once they leave,” Lio continued, “the Stewards and I can cast a thelemantic ward that blends physical protection and mind magic. In the meantime, if you’ll allow it, our Hesperines errant will patrol the area to ensure the necromancer cannot return while you’re still undefended.”
Lord Hadrian frowned. “I cannot have a ward blocking anyone from entering or leaving the camp.”
“No one will ever know it’s there,” Lio assured him. “You men will be able to ride in and out of it. But if the necromancer or one of his servants tries to cross it, it will repel him.”
While Lord Hadrian considered this, Solia said nothing. Cassia wished she would, but she understood her sister’s silence. Her duel with Lord Hadrian had been a test of his loyalty. This was a test of hers. She would not command him to accept Hesperines in his camp, as Lucis had commanded him to welcome Aithourians.
Lord Hadrian said, “I remember you from the Equinox Summit, Ambassador Deukalion. You stood between me and a wall of magefire. I believe I owe you a life debt.”
Lio gave one of his self-effacing smiles and shook his head. “I would sooner say we have a bond of gratitude, my lord, if you will allow a Hesperine interpretation of that night.”
“And how does a man do his duty to a bond of gratitude?”
“If you will allow me to fight with you to protect your people, I will consider our bond honored, and honor it in return.”
“Then raise your defenses. Hadria and the Hesperines will stand together against the necromancer—and in support of Queen Solia at the coming vote.”
Twilight was melting into dawn by the time they returned to Patria. His thoughts in a haze, Lio let Mak and Lyros step everyone. They landed in the chambers Cassia shared with the other women.
She blinked, and Lio’s mind slipped into hers again. Her dull mortal nose brought Lio the scent of the coffee Tuura was brewing at the hearth. Through Cassia’s eyes, Lio watched Karege yawn and Hoyefe warm his hands by the fire. Shaking his head, Lio pulled back his power. Cassia helped him with a push. Together, they shoved him back into his own mind. She stumbled a little, and he tightened his arm around her.
“Look what Tilili dragged in.” Even light-hearted Hoyefe sounded worried about them.
Karege leapt up from his chair, his fangs unsheathing. “Did we miss a battle?”
Lio focused on the first important question. “Did the Collector try to return here?”
“No,” Tuura said, “there’s been no sign of him.”
“Lio drove him out of Lord Hadrian’s camp,” Cassia explained. “It’s good news that Patria is not where he retreated to.”
“But now he could be anywhere.” Lio’s mind reeled with the possibilities.
Mak threw himself into a chair and pulled Lyros onto his lap. “He’s not anywhere near the people under our protection. That’s what matters right now.”
Lyros settled into Mak’s arms. “Agreed. We can’t worry about anything outside our perimeter. We have to stay focused.”
Tuura was already reaching for her medicine bag. “I see at least three cuts that need a poultice.”
Too many people. Lio wanted to drag Cassia into a deep, dark chamber and lose himself in her until he could no longer remember the sound of the Collector’s laughter.
But he had no right to seek oblivion. His duty to Pakhne was not done.
“Solia,” he said, “a word.”
She faced him. “You want to do this now?”
“I’d sooner do it while Pakhne still breathes, which may not be long.”
Karege levitated more chairs near the fire. “Why doesn’t everyone have a seat? I’m sure we can all sort it out.”
