Chapter 43 Quil
Quil
Quil didn’t wish to leave his aunt, but he heard raised voices nearby. The command tent was next door, and it was clear that if he didn’t get in there, there’d be trouble.
When he stepped through, the Shrike was standing between the Jaduna sorceresses and a group of Illustrian nobles. A knot of Scholar courtiers kept their distance, clearly wanting nothing to do with whatever the Martials had plotted.
“Prince,” one of the Martials said. Pater Rufius, leader of an Illustrian Gens that Aunt Hel had always loathed. “Where is the Empress? She should be here—”
“She is recovering from the bombing earlier, Pater Rufius,” Quil said. “I will act in her stead.”
“You are a boy who has been gone from the field of battle for weeks,” Rufius said.
“I am a soldier who has fought for my aunt since the age of thirteen and who has now brought allies who will help us win this war,” Quil said.
He’d never liked Rufius much. Now he’d have to crush the man like a cockroach.
“I am a crown prince who will get our people out of this foxhole to somewhere safer. What are you, Rufius, other than a sniveling hanger-on, skulking about this encampment fomenting dissent instead of helping the people who most need it?”
Rufius’s face reddened. “The Empress is weakened by her blow,” he said.
“I—I hear she may not last much longer.” Rufius looked between the other Illustrians.
They’d obviously discussed this ahead of time, but Rufius’s support clearly waned with every word he uttered.
“We—ah—we believe it is time to choose another who might lead—”
“One of your relatives underestimated Empress Helene when she was still the Blood Shrike,” Quil said.
Long ago, Aunt Hel had arrested this man’s uncle for treason.
Quil’s father had then punished said uncle by throwing him off a rock to his death.
“If you don’t wish to suffer the same fate as him, I’d advise you not make the same mistake. With me or the Empress.”
“Your Highness!” A runner popped through the tent, a girl no more than fourteen, in fatigues too big for her. “News from the southern watchtower. The Jaduna—they have brought down two Sails!”
The victory, small as it was, couldn’t have come at a better time. Quil cast Rufius a cold glare. “General Dex Atrius.” He turned to his aunt’s old friend. “The maps.”
As Atrius filled him in on exactly where their troops were and Elias brought news from the infirmary, Quil began to deploy the Jaduna.
Kin Bij and Kin Deshma went to the northern and eastern edges of the encampments.
Kin Inashi would bind the Kegari windsmithers when the other Jaduna brought down the Sails.
“Our soldiers cannot help with an aerial attack,” Quil said to the Martials and Scholars remaining.
“The Tel Ilessi wishes to flush us north, toward her army and no doubt a great deal of ordnance. But there are plenty of paths east. Even if she bombs half of them, we should be able to get most of the civilians out. But it will be slow, as the paths are narrow. We must begin immediately.”
He turned to Pater Rufius, still glowering. “Rufius, you will guide a group of civilians out, those camped in the southern section, by the stables. A chance to show your leadership. You’ll be accompanied by a squadron of aux soldiers—”
“Mere auxes?” Rufius protested. “How will they protect so many against the Kegari? What if the Tel Ilessi has soldiers stationed to the east?”
“Then I suppose we’ll learn if you can use that scim you have strapped across your back,” Quil said, “or if it’s just for show.”
Rufius paled, and the other nobles stepped away from him, as if he had the plague. Quil felt a surge of satisfaction. He knew Aunt Hel loathed dealing with such idiocy, especially in the middle of battle. But to Quil’s surprise, he found it invigorating.
He sent the rest of the Paters off on similar errands—all in different places in the encampment. He didn’t want them to have the opportunity to plot. M’radh, the Jaduna of Kin Khind, arrived soon after, Tas at his heels.
“The Empress was wounded earlier,” Quil said to him. “You are Jaduna, you know of her magic. She can heal herself, but only if she gets rest. Can you offer her a few hours of dreamless sleep?”
M’radh’s eyebrows shot up when Quil said dreamless, but he didn’t elaborate and the Jaduna didn’t push. He disappeared with Tas to Aunt Hel’s tent.
The next few hours felt like only minutes.
After making sure his aunt was sleeping—and leaving Tas to guard her—Quil checked to see that the Paters were on task.
He moved communications to a separate tent and assigned runners to the Jaduna.
He ordered the watches changed so tired soldiers could get rest before the Kegari were upon them again.
He assigned Dex and his officers to carrying out the evacuation and helping set up another camp in the caves farther east.
When Quil finished with his troops, he returned to the primary encampment, intending to finally find Sirsha. She wouldn’t have left yet—there were only so many paths out, and he’d ordered the guards on duty to inform him immediately if she was on any of them.
She wouldn’t want to speak to him. She wouldn’t want to see him. Even thinking about her hurt, and the emptiness where their bond had been throbbed like a wound. But he had to tell her of the jinn. He was hunting for her near the stables when Elias found him.
“Sails to the north,” Elias said. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. The Jaduna are in position and G’vindra is confident they won’t break through. But you need to take cover in case they do.”
“Everyone does,” Quil said. “We’ll have to halt the evacuation. Let General Dex know, please. Where’s Sufiyan?”
“With Arelia and Sirsha,” Elias said. “In one of the shelters—not sure which.”
Quil hurried toward the first shelter—a large, high cave just behind the infirmary.
It was packed with soldiers and civilians who hadn’t yet begun making their way out of the encampment.
He searched for Sirsha in vain; there were hundreds of people, all of whom wanted to talk to Quil.
Runners arrived to tell them the Sails were approaching swiftly. No one was to leave.
Over the next few hours, Quil remained in the cave with his people, exuding calm, even in the moments when his insides felt like they were made of eels.
He did whatever he could to fill the time: played cards with a group of children beside a blue-fire lantern; braided an old grandmother’s hair when her hands shook too much to do it herself; argued with a group of farmers about whether the land north of Estium was better for farming or the land south.
At first, they tensed at every rumble, every distant thud.
Once, they heard the telltale shriek of a bomb falling.
When it exploded, cries rippled through the cave.
But they did not hear a single other bomb.
Some people were even able to sleep. In the morning, as the sun poured into the cave from light shafts in the rock, a runner entered with a note, penned by G’vindra.
Twenty-eight Sails down. Remaining have turned back.
When Quil read the note aloud, the cheer that erupted was so loud, he worried it would bring the rock ceiling down upon them.
The cheer doubled in volume when, after streaming out of the cave, the crowds caught sight of the Jaduna rappelling down the ravine walls.
The sorceresses seemed surprised to be the objects of such delight and adoration.
But Quil caught a gratified smile on G’vindra’s face.
Raani Sh’ban, who had bound seven Kegari pilots single-handedly, accepted the thanks of Quil’s people with a gracious nod, but her smile looked forced.
“My people are tired, Prince,” she confessed to him when he pulled her aside.
“It was a great act of will, pulling down so many Sails. And the Kegari still broke through.” She nodded to one of the trails leading east, blocked now by rockfall from a bomb.
“We will not be able to put up such a fight again, not for a few days. And yet I fear the Tel Ilessi will not wait so long. You must get your people out quickly.”
Quil had been thinking much the same, for he’d issued the order to Dex to clear out the smaller encampments in the west the second the attack was over.
Already, he saw groups of soldiers chivvying people out of their hideouts, others filling barrels with water from the springs, loading up wagons, keeping everyone moving.
It was a directed sort of chaos, and yet Quil felt in control, focused, ready. He found that he knew what to do. That knowledge calmed him, which calmed everyone around him.
Someone caught Quil’s shoulder and he turned to find Sufiyan, who dragged him behind one of the mess tents.
“Where’s Sirsha?” Quil asked immediately when they were out of earshot of anyone. “Why aren’t you with her—”
“Don’t get your knickers in a wad.” Sufiyan rolled his eyes.
“She’s in that narrow cave on the northwest side of the encampment.
As far away from the supply wagons and stables as I could get her.
Arelia is regaling her with tales of her next invention—something about flying mantises.
They sent me out to see what was happening.
” Sufiyan lowered his voice. “You didn’t tell Sirsha, right?
About the j—ackals?” He looked around. “Don’t know where Div is,” he whispered. “No idea if she’s spying or not.”
When Div was around, Quil could tell, because the air grew heavy, as if a storm was about to break. He didn’t feel that now. But he didn’t think speaking in code was a bad idea, either.
“I want her to hear about the jackals from me,” Quil said. “But there’s been no time.”
“Do you really think you can change her mind?” Sufiyan said.
“She seems hells-bent on going to them. Says they’re the only ones who can fix this mess she’s in.
Breaking a coin to summon the jackals is a powerful enticement.
More powerful than an amorphous threat. Especially if she realizes they vowed to help you in exchange for her. ”
“The threat wasn’t amorphous. Diriya said Sirsha would suffer. She said she didn’t foresee her survival. That’s as blunt as it gets. But—” Quil said. “Forewarned is forearmed. I need to tell her.”
“Fine, but perhaps don’t tell her about the coin? As that might hasten the aforementioned suffering?”
“Your Highness.” The Blood Shrike approached from Aunt Hel’s tent. “Your aunt’s summoned you. The Tel Ilessi”—she spat out the name—“has sent a message.”
“I’ll think on what you said,” Quil said to Sufiyan. “Do not let her leave. Chain yourself to her leg if you have to.”
Once in the Empress’s tent, he was relieved to see that the hours of rest M’radh had given Aunt Hel had done wonders.
Her eyes were sharp and alert, her undershirt clean and no longer stained with blood.
Tas and Elias stood in a corner, grim-faced as they watched her pace.
She offered Quil the letter the second he walked in.
“The messenger came bearing a white flag,” Aunt Hel said. “He’s with Rallius at the northern edge of camp, awaiting our response.”
Quil took the note.
Empress Helene,
I wish to settle terms. I, along with your spymaster, will meet you at sunset. Come toward the flames. Come alone.
—The Tel Ilessi
“She’s bringing Musa,” Elias said. “Presumably to keep you in line, Empress.”
“This is a bleeding trap,” the Shrike growled. “We just captured nearly thirty of her pilots. The Jaduna brought down her Sails. We should choose the time. The place. Not her. And we should send assassins. Not our empress.”
Quil said nothing, his mind snagging on one line. Come toward the flames.
Aunt Hel met his gaze. I dream that I burn, Quil. And that I—I am afraid.
“She must know we’ll try to assassinate her,” Aunt Hel said. “She’ll come prepared. Glutted on power.”
“Which is why you shouldn’t go,” Tas said. “I agree with the Shrike. We tell her we’ll meet and send assassins instead.”
“We’ve tried to assassinate her,” Aunt Hel said. “We’ve failed. This might get me close enough to kill her.”
“Or,” the Shrike said, “to be captured. In which case, we have no empress. I beg you to reconsider. If something happens to you—”
“Do not fear for me, Blood Shrike,” Aunt Hel said, her blue eyes like chips of ice.
“Death has hunted me since I was six years old. He’s not caught me in his claws yet.
Send her a response. I will meet her at sunset.
But,” she said when the Shrike opened her mouth to protest, “I won’t go alone. I want you with me. All of you.”
“Empress.” The Shrike glanced at Quil. “His Highness—”
“Is coming,” Quil said flatly. “Not a one of you will stop me.”
“That’s settled, then,” Aunt Hel said, and swept out, the others trailing. Quil was about to follow when something shifted in the tent. A pressure change, a heaviness in the air. His ears popped.
“Div,” he said flatly. “Show yourself.”
The creature appeared in her eerie child form, her red hair messily braided, her tunic and pants dusty, as if she was nothing but another innocent fleeing the Kegari onslaught.
“Perceptive, Prince,” she said. “Most people do not realize when I’m near.”
He narrowed his eyes and his magic flared. He reached out with it, but before he could read anything about her, Div growled like a jungle cat, low and angry.
“Beware, Prince,” she said before fading into nothingness. He felt her brush past him, and even though he couldn’t see her, he shivered at the menace in her whisper: “There be monsters.”