Wigg turned to Adrian. “What are the girls’ conditions?”
Adrian smiled. “Considering all that they have suffered, they seem well,” she answered. “They are terribly thin, but that will change. The gnome wives spent all last night making new uniforms for them. Like the boys being taught here, they have been assigned personal quarters. Shawna has to keep bringing them so much food that she’s exhausted! At the princess’s suggestion, this morning I gave them a palace tour. They’re overwhelmed.”
Then Adrian’s expression darkened. “I have heard their story,” she added sadly. “It seems that there is an evil in Tammerland with which we must deal.”
Her interest piqued, Shailiha leaned forward. She was clearly tired. Sleeplessness and worry had left dark circles below her eyes.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“With all due respect, I must defer to Mallory, Your Highness,” Adrian answered. “After she told me, she asked if she could inform you herself. It seems that you have made quite an impression on her.”
“Then it’s time we summoned them,” Shailiha said. She looked toward the doors. “Guard!” she called out.
At once the twin doors opened. Two sturdy Minion warriors strode briskly into the room, walked to Shailiha’s side, and came to attention.
“Bring the Fledgling House girls,” she ordered. “Tell them they have nothing to fear.”
The guards snapped their boot heels together. Leaving the room, they shut the doors.
Wigg looked concernedly at Shailiha. As acting regent, she would have to make another difficult decision, and quickly.
“Before the girls arrive we must discuss their fathers,” Wigg said gently.
Shailiha nodded. “We will try to break the news in the kindest possible way. Even so, it will be difficult for them to accept. Many of their fathers were killed by people at this very table. Of those remaining alive, we cannot say how many are serving Serena and the Vagaries. Neither explanation will be a welcome one.”
Wigg looked down at the tabletop for several moments, then back into the princess’s eyes.
“There’s more than that,” he said dryly.
“What do you mean?” Abbey asked.
“I’m talking about the consuls imprisoned here in the Redoubt,” Wigg said. “After each one was captured, Faegan and I examined his blood. As expected, because of Nicholas’ influence each of their signatures leans significantly leftward. Jessamay looked into their eyes, further confirming our findings. Luckily, not one holds Forestallments. We also used the craft to enter their minds, but our efforts produced little. With Wulfgar’s death, they appear leaderless. In any event, they know nothing of Serena’s plans, or of Xanthus’ appearance. I wish they could have told us more, but there it is.” Pausing for a moment, Wigg looked around the table.
“The moment we took each consul, a forgetfulness spell was enacted over him, negating his magic use,” he added. “For security reasons, each was locked away in his own windowless quarters. Two armed warriors guard every consul’s door. The consuls clearly know who they are, and they still owe their allegiance to the Vagaries. We compared their signatures to the blood-birth records stored here. In several cases, our findings yielded interesting results.”
“How so?” Shailiha asked.
Sighing, Wigg sat back in his chair. “Some of the girls’ fathers are imprisoned here, including Mallory’s.”
“Did you know Mallory’s father before he was captured?” Adrian asked.
“Yes,” Wigg answered. “I knew them all. The selection process was intimate. Each Directorate of Wizards member had a hand in it, as did Queen Morganna. After all, it was at Morganna’s insistence that Fledgling House came into existence.”
“What is the consul’s name?” Shailiha asked.
“Nathan of the House of Esterbrook,” Wigg answered. “At forty-three Seasons of New Life, his blood is strong and his intellect keen. Just as I suspect Mallory’s are.”
“Can the consuls’ blood signatures be changed to lean rightward once more?” Abbey asked. “Jessamay’s was.”
“Perhaps,” Wigg answered. “But I believe that should wait until the threat from Serena has been dealt with.”
For several moments, silence again filled the room. Wigg looked into Shailiha’s eyes.
“What are your orders, Princess?” he asked.
Shailiha didn’t hesitate. “Only Mallory will be told. I believe that she is the only one mature enough to fully bear up under the news. We will let her see her father, if she chooses. But we will tell her about him in private. If she wishes to inform the other girls later, that will be her decision.”
As her thoughts turned to her brother, Shailiha’s face saddened. “I take it there has been no word from Traax?” she asked.
“No,” Wigg answered. “But we must not give up hope. It is possible that Traax’s group has yet to reach the pass, or that they were distracted by something important along the way. Traax is an able warrior. When he has something newsworthy to relate, he will send a messenger.”
Shailiha couldn’t help addressing the darker question. “Do you believe we’ll see Tristan again?” she asked softly.
Wigg laced his fingers together. “I do not want to offer false hope, Princess. But your brother is a resourceful man, and it seems that the Heretics have some plan for him. At the very least they want him alive and unharmed.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jessamay added. “All we can do is wait and see.”
“No,” Shailiha said adamantly. “We can do more than that. We will attack the Citadel, just as he asked us to do. As we speak, Tyranny is readying the Black Ships. We sail as soon as possible.”
A knock came on the door. Calling out, Shailiha granted permission to enter.
The doors opened to show the eight Fledglings, accompanied by the warriors Shailiha had sent to fetch them. Each girl wore a uniform like the one she had donned at Fledgling House-a white blouse, a blue-and-gray plaid pleated skirt, and shiny black shoes. Each crisp blouse carried a bright red image of the Paragon embroidered over its wearer’s heart.
Like they had just encountered another world, the Fledglings gazed wide-eyed into the magnificent Hall of Blood Records. When they spied Martha, their decorum vanished.
“Martha!” they screamed. “Martha! Martha!” Charging around both sides of the table, they joyously deluged her.
Hugging her girls incessantly, Martha soon had tears running down her face. Shailiha wisely decided to let the affectionate reunion run its course.
When things had quieted, Shailiha politely commanded the girls’ attention. Suddenly remembering themselves, Mallory and Ariana blushed. Shailiha looked at the two guards.
“Please seat our guests,” she ordered. When more chairs had been situated at the table, the girls took their places. Leaving the room, the guards shut the doors behind them.
One by one, Shailiha smiled into each new face. She then nodded at Adrian.
“We have learned that you are indeed who you claim to be,” the First Sister said. Lifting her hands, she graciously gestured about the room. “Welcome to the Redoubt.”
The girls beamed. “Thank you, First Sister,” Mallory said. “On behalf of all the Fledglings, it is an honor to be here.”
Shailiha smiled. She is indeed their leader, she realized. The princess gave Mallory a thoughtful look.
“Sister Adrian tells us that you have told her your story,” she said. “I would like you to tell the rest of us. But before you do, would each girl please give her name?”
One by one the girls identified themselves. They were Mallory, Ariana, Magdalene, Deirdre, Carol, Daisy, Constance, and Scarlet. Suddenly remembering Duncan, Mallory gave Martha an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We loved Duncan very much.”
Martha nodded wistfully. “Don’t be sorry,” she answered. “What happened was not your doing. Duncan would be happy to know that we are all back together again.”
Shailiha looked at Mallory again. “Now then, please tell us your story,” she said.
