sergeant…”
“Beechum, sir,” the closest guard put in.
“Beechum,” the admiral said. “He’s taking the body count as we speak, but it may be a while before we know how many guardsmen are still in service.”
“Why so long?” Josef said as he climbed into the carriage.
“If I may, sir,” the guard said, holding the carriage door as Eli, Nico, and the admiral climbed in after Josef. “The princess was our captain like Theresa was our queen. She raised most of us up from the city guard, and we were loyal to her like none other. Some of the men still don’t believe she betrayed us. If I hadn’t seen the queen’s death with my own eyes…”
“She was certainly thorough in her treachery,” Josef muttered, leaning out the tiny window. “Just tell the sergeant to send whatever guards he can down to the storm wall. Meanwhile, I want the city watch to start moving people toward the western docks. Get them as far from the east coast as you can. I want Osera empty if war spirits start falling.”
“Yes, sire,” the guard said, saluting.
Josef saluted back, and the carriage pulled away with a lurch, leaving the guard to deliver the king’s orders.
“I can’t see how she could have put us in a worse position,” the admiral said, rubbing a handkerchief across his ashy face as the carriage rattled out into the street. “The queen, the clingfire, and now the guard in shambles. She certainly knew where to hit us.”
“Adela always was good at her job,” Josef said quietly.
The admiral went paler still and kept any other opinions to himself.
The storm wall was crawling with sailors by the time they arrived. The man made way for the carriage, and the driver pulled them right up to the tower door. The admiral led Josef and his companions up the stairs, calling for his captains as they went. When they reached the top of the watchtower, Eli was pleased to see that the bodies from earlier had been removed. The stains on the wood floor remained, however. A grisly reminder.
“Right,” Eli said, surveying the room and the commanding view of the sea. “This will be our headquarters. Can we get a map of the coastline?”
The admiral jerked. “I don’t take orders from—”
“Eli’s with me,” Josef said firmly.
The admiral dropped his eyes. “Yes, majesty.”
Eli smiled as the admiral turned and started toward the steps. “And don’t forget my Spiritualist!”
The old admiral’s shoulders twitched, but he nodded as he disappeared down the stairs.
“I could get used to this,” Eli said, but Josef wasn’t listening. He was standing at the window, his face pale as he stared at the now clearly visible line of ships on the horizon.
“Surely the master of the Heart of War is not afraid of death,” Tesset said, stepping up beside him.
“Not mine,” Josef whispered as the admiral returned with soldiers bearing tables and maps, which they set up under Eli’s direction.
Thirty minutes later, news of the queen’s death had spread throughout the city. Surprisingly, this seemed to calm the panic spurred by Josef’s fight with Adela. Whatever his faults, Josef was an Eisenlowe, and with news of the princess’s betrayal and the Empress’s arrival spreading fast, having a murderer as a king suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Riders moved constantly back and forth between the bay and the palace, bringing Josef reports. The royal guard had recovered faster than the admiral had estimated. Adela’s betrayal had caught them hardest of all. Of the two hundred men once under the princess’s command, half were now dead by her hand. This had galvanized the hundred that remained, however, and they marched to the coast to put themselves under Josef’s command.
Men from the city were pouring down the mountain as well, answering the call of the bells to defend their homeland. They gathered on the storm wall, accepting their orders from the captains with stern-faced determination. Eli watched from the tower, impressed. He’d expected a riot, or at least more panic, but the people of Osera seemed to be handling the wave of change that had crashed into their kingdom by focusing on the one thing that was still the same—defending their home against the Empress.
The captains were dividing the crowd into crews when a carriage pulled onto the storm wall. A few minutes later, a guard poked his head into the watchtower and announced that Eli’s Spiritualist had arrived.
“Excellent,” Eli said. “Show him in.”
The guard opened the door for an elderly man whose elegant jacket was cut short at the sleeves to show off his four large, jeweled rings. He stepped into the tower and stopped, casting disdainful looks at the soldiers huddled around the maps, particularly Josef.
“Spiritualist,” Eli said, shaking his hand. “How nice to meet you.”
“It’s Tower Keeper,” the old man said with a sniff, snatching his hand back. “Who are you? I was told the king wanted me.”
“The king doesn’t deal with ‘wizard things,’ ” Eli said with a smile. “He leaves those to me.”
He glanced pointedly down at Eli’s empty fingers. “And again I say, who are you?”
“We have a bit of a crisis on our hands here,” Eli said, ignoring the question. “I need you to send a message to Zarin.”
“Why?” the Tower Keeper said suspiciously. “What’s wrong with the Relay?”
“I’ve heard that Spiritualists have their own way of communicating with Zarin,” Eli said. “Outside the Relay.”
“Yes,” the old man said testily. “They’re called letters.”
“I’m not talking about letters,” Eli said. “I’m talking about emergency messages.” He stopped and looked around pointedly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, chum, the Relay’s down and the Empress is about to fall on us like a hammer. We need to call for reinforcements immediately.”
“The Relay, down…” The Tower Keeper’s lined face turned ashy. “Powers, man, why didn’t you call the Council earlier?”
“If we could have, we would have,” Eli said. “If you Spiritualists have something up your sleeves, now’s the time to show it.”
“And I’m telling you we use letters!” the Tower Keeper cried. “An express courier switching horses can get a letter to Zarin in a day.”
Eli stared at him. “You’re kidding. The great and mighty Spirit Court uses couriers? That’s it? What about wind spirits?”
“Wind spirits?” the Tower Keeper said, aghast. “Do you know anything about wizardry? There aren’t five Spiritualists in the Court who’ve bound wind spirits. It’s not like I’m just keeping one in my pocket.”
Eli leaned back with a groan. “Please don’t tell me I had it good with Miranda.”
“Miranda?” The Tower Keeper jerked as though he’d stepped in something. “Lyonette? How do you know Banage’s favorite?”
“I can hardly seem to avoid her,” Eli said, ears perking up. “But why so bitter, Mr. Tower Keeper?”
“Bitter?” The man drew himself up to his full height. “Hardly, sir. Say what you like about our letters, but you’re the one out of touch if you haven’t heard that Banage’s turned traitor. He refused to help the Council fight the Empress and shut himself up in the Tower. I imagine Lyonette is in there with him, along with all the other traitors.”
Eli paused for a moment. “That is actually very interesting,” he said finally. “And not entirely surprising.” He sighed loudly. “Well, Mr. Tower Keeper, I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time. Thank you very much for coming. I’m sure someone will show you out.”
The Tower Keeper looked at Eli with utter confusion, but Eli just turned him around by the shoulder and pushed him toward the soldiers. “See he gets home safely!”
The soldiers saluted and began to escort the Tower Keeper down the stairs. The old man recovered his wits about three steps in and began protesting loudly that the prince had sent for him personally. That was all Eli heard before the door slammed shut.
He caught Josef’s eye and motioned him over.
Josef nodded to the admiral and stepped away from the map, joining Eli by the window. “Well?”
“No dice,” Eli said. “I keep forgetting what a gulf in power there can be between Spiritualists.”
