“I was just going to say, before you interrupted,” Arista began, “that you’re both already on the list. I’ll just check you both off as agreeing.”
“Good.” Alric smiled triumphantly, folding his arms across his chest, then grinned at Mauvin. “Looks like we’ll make it to Percepliquis after all.”
“And you can take me off your bloody list!” Degan Gaunt shouted. He was on his feet. “I’m not going!”
“Please sit down, Degan,” Arista told him. “I need to explain.”
Degan remained furious, his eyes wide, his hands tugging at his doublet and his tight collar. “You!” He pointed at Hadrian. “Are you just going to sit there? Aren’t you supposed to protect me?”
“From what?” he asked. “They only want to talk.”
“From the brutish manhandling of the common man by the rich aristocracy!”
“That’s actually what we need to speak about,” Modina explained. “You are the true Heir of Novron, not I. That is why Ethelred and Saldur locked you up.”
“Then why haven’t I been acknowledged? I’ve seen precious little benefit from that wondrous title. I should be the emperor-I should be on the throne. Why hasn’t my pedigree been announced? Why do you feel it is necessary to speak about my lineage in private? If I really am this heir, I should be sitting for my coronation right now, not going on some suicide mission. How stupid do you think I am? If I really were this descendant of a god, I would be too valuable to risk. Oh no, you want me out of the way so you can rule! I am an inconvenience that you have found a convenient way to dispose of!”
“Your lineage hasn’t been announced for your own safety. If-”
Gaunt cut Modina off. “My own safety? You people are the only ones that threaten me!”
“Will you let her finish?” Amilia told him.
Modina patted her hand and then continued. “The heir has the ability to unite the four nations of Apeladorn under one banner, but I have already accomplished that, or rather the late regents, Saldur and Ethelred, have. Through their diligent, misguided efforts, the world already believes the heir sits on the imperial throne. At this moment, we are in a war with an adversary we have little chance of defeating. This is no time to shake the people’s belief. They must remain strong and confident that the heir already rules. We must remain united in the face of our enemy. If we revealed the truth now, that confidence would be shaken and our strength destroyed. If we manage to survive, if we live to see the snow melt and the flowers bloom again, then you and I can talk about who sits on the throne.”
Degan stood with less conviction now. He leaned on the table, pulling on his collar. “I still don’t see why I need to go on this loony trip into a buried city.”
“The ability to unite the kingdoms was thought to be the sum of the heir’s value, but we now believe it is trivial compared to your true importance.”
“And that is?”
“Your ability to both find and use the Horn of Gylindora.”
“But I don’t know anything about this-this horn thingy. What is it I’m supposed to do, exactly?”
“I don’t know.”
“What will happen if I use it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I don’t know that I am going. You said that if everything works out, we’ll talk about who sits on the imperial throne, but I say we have that discussion now. I will go on this quest of yours, but in return I demand the throne. I want it in writing, signed with your hand, that I will be Emperor of Apeladorn upon my return, regardless of success. And I want two copies, one which I will take with me in case the other is somehow lost.”
“That’s outrageous!” Alric declared.
“Perhaps, but I won’t go otherwise.”
“Oh, you’ll go,” Mauvin assured him with a smirk.
“Sure, you can tie me up and drag me, but I’ll hang limp-a dead weight that will slow you down. And at some point you’ll need me to do something, which I assure you I will not. So if you want my cooperation, you will give me the throne.”
Modina stared at him. “All right,” she said. “If that is your price, I will pay it.”
“You’re not serious!” Alric exclaimed. “You can’t agree to put this-this-”
“Careful,” Gaunt said. “You are speaking of your next emperor, and I remember slights against me.”
“What will happen to Modina?” Amilia asked.
Gaunt pursed his lips, considering. “She was a farmer once, wasn’t she? She can go back to that.”
“Empress,” Alric began, “think about what you are doing.”
“I am.” She turned to Nimbus. “Take Gaunt. Have the scribe write up whatever he wants. I will sign it.”
Gaunt smiled broadly and followed the chancellor out of the hall. A silence followed. Alric started to speak several times but stopped himself and finally slumped in his seat.
Arista looked at Hadrian and took his hand. “I want you to go.”
Hadrian glanced at the door. “Being his bodyguard, I don’t suppose I have a choice.”
She smiled, then added, “I also want Royce to come.”
Hadrian ran a hand through his hair. “That might be a bit of a problem.” He looked toward Modina.
“I have no objection,” she said.
“We need the best team I can put together,” Arista added.
“That’s right,” Alric said. “If ever there was a need for my miracle team, this is it. Tell him I’ll make it worth his time. I still have some fortune left.”
Hadrian shook his head. “This time it won’t be about money.”
“But you will talk to him?” Arista asked.
“I’ll try.”
“Hey,” Alric said to Arista, “why is it that you feel compelled to go? I never remember you having any interest in Percepliquis before.”
“To be honest, I would rather not go, but it’s my responsibility now.”
“Responsibility?”
“Perhaps penance is a better word. You could say I am haunted.” Her brother did not appear to understand, but she did not elaborate. “We still need a historian. If only Arcadius had… but now…”
“I know someone,” Hadrian said, picking up Hall’s journal. “A friend with an appetite for books and an uncanny memory.”
Arista noded. “What about someone with sailing experience?”
“Royce and I spent a month on the Emerald Storm. We know a little about ships. It’s a shame I don’t know where Wyatt Deminthal is, though. He was the helmsman on the Storm and a fantastic seaman.”
“I’m familiar with Mr. Deminthal,” Modina said, drawing a curious look from Hadrian. “I’ll see if I can convince him to sign on.”
“That just leaves the dwarf,” Arista said.
“The what?” Hadrian stared at her.
“Magnus.”
“You’ve found him?” Alric asked.
“Modina did.”
“That’s wonderful!” Alric exclaimed. “Can we execute him before our departure?”
“He’s going with you,” Modina told him.
“He killed my father!” Alric shouted. “He stabbed him in the back while he was at prayer!”
“While I can see your point, Your Majesty,” Hadrian said to Alric, “there is a more pressing issue. He nearly killed Royce twice. If he sees Magnus, the dwarf is dead.”
“Then perhaps you should be the one to hang on to this.” Modina produced the white dagger and slid it down the table, where it came to rest, spinning slightly before Hadrian. “I know all about Magnus’s crimes. His obsession with Royce’s dagger caused him to make poor decisions, including the one that got him arrested when he tried to steal it from the storehouse. You are going underground, perhaps deep underground. There will be no maps or road signs and I can’t afford for you to get lost.”
“Alric, Modina and I agree on this,” Arista said. “Remember he was my father as well. We are setting out on a journey that may decide the fate of our race! The elves don’t want to push us from our lands and lock us in slums.
