Fess’s voice came from the stone, piercing the air. “We’ve lost Wag.”
The blood drained from Toria Deel’s face, and she wavered on her feet. “How?”
Fess’s voice reverberated through the crystal. “He ran off to the east side of the city.”
Unexpected hope took my breath, and I reached out to grab Rymark’s arm. “It’s Pellin. Wag’s found him. You have to get everyone you can to the east gate.”
He shook his head. “That’s exactly what we have to avoid. Cesla thinks he’s coming up from the south. We need to make sure he continues to think that.” Rymark spun away, snapping orders that sent men. “Have Fess get as many of Lelwin’s men around to the east as he can,” he told Toria Deel. “Have them stay hidden.”
“For how long?” she asked.
Rymark’s head jerked in a single nod. “He’ll know.”
I watched as the king pulled his scrying stone free and hailed Ellias. “Pull together any men you can spare by the south gate,” he said. “Have them mounted for a sortie.”
“How many?” Ellias asked.
Rymark paused to look at me. “You know Cesla’s mind as well as any here, Dura. Too few men and he’ll know it’s a feint. Too many and we’re throwing away lives we’ll need later.”
“Your Majesty,” I said. “I’m not a man of war. I don’t know.”
“Ellias,” Rymark called into the stone. “Use volunteers unless you’re short of two thousand. If needed, draw the rest by lot. Give them the best horses and have them ride in wedge formation as deep into the enemy as they can.”
“When do you want me to send them out?” Ellias asked.
“On my order,” Rymark said. He turned to Toria Deel. “The second Wag finds the Eldest, I want to know how far away they are.”
Silence descended on the rooftop, and I could hear the rush of my heartbeat in my ears. Bolt rejoined us, sweating and smelling of smoke. Rory handed him a waterskin, his words rushing over each other. “Is war always like this?” he asked.
Bolt gestured toward me. “Ask him. My fights have always been a bit more private.”
I checked the door in my mind that led to my memories of the last battle I’d been in. “Every man interprets the fighting and bloodshed in his own way, but if you’re referring to bursts of action followed by tense waiting, then the answer is yes. War is quiet dread followed by moments of abject terror. Even the winners are marked by it.”
Gael shook her head. “What’s taking them so long?”
Foolishly, I looked east, searching from some sign of Pellin in the darkness. “Wag can pick up a scent from miles away, but he’s trying to protect Fess and Lelwin as well. They can only travel as fast as she can.”
I waited there on the rooftop while my heartbeat rocked me, looking east where the sun refused to rise. Bolt’s hands flexed over and over again, his right drifting across his body every few seconds to touch the hilt of his sword. Rory spun daggers through his fingers as he gazed into the darkness. Gael reached out and took my hand in hers.
“We have him.” Fess’s voice, quiet, broke the silence, and we exhaled in unison. “We’re about four miles out.” Tears coursed down Toria’s face as she held her stone aloft.
“Bring the Eldest to the east gate,” Rymark ordered. “We’re going to lure Cesla’s men to the south.” He pulled his scrying stone free. “Ellias, can you hear me?”
The king of Moorclaire’s voice answered in return. “I can.”
“Send them now,” Rymark said. “Have them push south until you signal them to retreat.”
We descended from the rooftop and moved to the east wall, where Rymark took command of the watch. Half an hour later, Fess’s voice came through Toria’s stone. “We’re within bowshot,” he said. “Open the gates.”
By the time I climbed down from the wall, Pellin and the rest were streaming inside. Wag came in last, a gash in his left shoulder. Blood spatters covered Lelwin, but oddly, she hadn’t redonned her veil against the dim light near the gate and I wondered which personality held ascendancy.
A dozen paces away, I saw Rymark speaking into his crystal.
“Ellias’s volunteers?” I asked.
The king shook his head, once. “Gone.”
I bowed my head to say the antidon, but Rymark’s voice cut across my prayer. “If you want to honor their memory, Dura, make sure we don’t join them.”
Pellin approached and took me by the arm. If a man could look more used up than the Eldest, I didn’t know how. “It’s time for us to take care of your vault,” he said.
I looked at Toria Deel and attempted a smile that probably didn’t take. “Congratulations, my lady,” I said. “I’m about to grant you your fondest wish.”
I’d hoped she would smile or respond in kind, but banter didn’t seem to be part of Elanian culture. “Not my fondest,” she said.
In the square outside the counting house, Pellin stopped us. “It has to be done here, where we can see the light of the sun and we have to hurry. Dawn is coming.”
The rest of the Vigil gathered around me with our guards and the rulers standing watch over us. “How is this done?” I asked Pellin.
He looked to each member of the Vigil. “The fight to free Elieve’s mind took everything from Igesia, and he was stronger in the gift than I.” He took a deep breath. “We must fight our way inside the vault in your mind and use the power of our gift to hold it open until dawn. The threads that came for you before, Lord Dura, are as nothing. Now, they will be as thick as vipers.”
Pellin turned to Rymark. “We must expose Lord Dura to the light of day, while his vault is still open.”
The king of Owmead issued orders to his guards. “Create a defensible perimeter around the square,” he
