Kemir sniffed. He shifted, settling himself. The boy hadn't come back. He was glad of that. There were still tears on his cheeks when there shouldn't have been. Best the boy didn't see that. was all so long ago.
'Sollos is gone now,' he whispered to the air, and suddenly he didn't care whether the boy came back or not.
Let him crack my skull while I'm sleeping. Then Snow can eat me. Most likely we'd both be better off. He lay down. I know what you're thinking, boy, because I thought it too. And I know where that took me, and I know exactly what it's like to be me, and it's really not worth it. That's what I'm trying to tell you, boy. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Be someone else. Let it go. He fell asleep, but he didn't sleep well. His dreams were old and troubled.
After you burned a man's home to charcoal and his family to ash, you could hardly bring them back and pretend it never happened. Let it go? He didn't even know how to begin. You couldn't really even say sorry. By then that was just was an insult.
26
Jeiros, acting grand master, leaned back in his chair and sighed. On his desk he had six letters. The ink was still fresh and drying. Three letters were to three sisters, all saying the same thing: You are now a queen. The other three were to their eyrie-masters, carrying the necessary instructions. Instructions to pass on the mysteries that only kings and queens were permitted to know. And a warning about one or two other things.
'I don't know how you manage,' he said. The other alchemist in the room, who'd written the letters to the eyrie-masters, was Vioros. As Zafir's senior alchemist, he was the closest thing Jeiros had to a deputy. At least, he was the closest thing that could be found at midday in the approximate vicinity of the Adamantine Palace when one king, one queen and one prince had all wound up dead on the same day. 'Bellepheros once wrote two of these in one month, and we never heard the end of it. But three! And in a day! How have you survived such a mistress?'
Vioros stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. 'Her mother was never any trouble to us and nor has Zafir been, since she took the crown. And not all of these letters are actually necessary, Jeiros. Jehal isn't dead yet.'
'Yet being the significant word.' Jeiros carefully took a handful of down and sprinkled it over the drying ink. 'I'll be surprised if he lasts the night. And if he does, he won't last the week. The wound has gone bad and he's lost so much blood. That's that, I'm afraid. The end of him. Nothing any of us can do.' Jeiros yawned. 'If he's strong then he'll linger a while. But you're right: strictly, he's not actually dead yet. The speaker's choices are to let him waste away in stinking rotting agony for a few days or put him out of his misery. The latter would be the merciful thing to do, but I suppose she might baulk at that under the circumstances. Besides, I'm not sure she's one for mercy, is she?'
Vioros glanced sharply up. 'Or she could find herself a blood-mage.'
'Or that.' For a few moments neither of them said anything, as though Vioros had suddenly let a bad smell into the room and they were both waiting for the air to clear.
'I don't know why Zafir has me trying to keep him alive anyway,' muttered Jeiros at last. 'Why bother to go to all that trouble and then cut off his head anyway?'
'Oh, I don't think she wants him dead.'
Jeiros sighed again and shook his head. 'Madness. I didn't want to be grand master.' 'You're not.'
'Oh, come on! Bellepheros disappeared almost half a year ago. If he's not dead, he's certainly not coming back!' Jeiros rubbed his eyes and waved at the letters. 'I was much happier at the redoubt. And Bellepheros never had to deal with anything like this. A quarter of the Order dead at the hands of a rogue dragon; all our stocks wiped out; eyries across the realms running short. Do you realise that King Narghon is down to two weeks' supply?'
'We're down to three weeks ourselves.'
'I know! Can you imagine?' Jeiros wrung his hands and shook his head. 'Can you simply imagine what would happen if even one eyrie ran out? An entire eyrie. We'd have to poison them all! And then the consequences…'
'I'm trying not to think about it. These Red Riders-'
'If you think that's bad, imagine us at war! All our supplies pass through King Valgar's realm.' He checked himself. 'Queen Almiri's realm, I mean. Now.'
'That will be Zafir's cause for war, when it comes. I'll make you a wager on that if you like.'
'Make me a wager on how long it will be before Almiri turns on the Order and starts trying to starve Zafir's eyries. The Red Riders have already started.' He shook his head again. 'Madness, all of it.'
'She'll starve everyone else as well. Even herself.'
Jeiros got up and walked to the window. Outside, the sun was close to the horizon. They've probably finished building the cages now. Shezira and Valgar will be hanging outside the gates. What's left of them.
'I don't think she's going to have much of a choice. Or she may not care. If she's got half her mother's stubbornness… Have you met her?'
'No.'
'Pity.' He was pacing back and forth now, unable to contain the nervous energy crackling through his limbs. 'I can't take any chances, Vioros, and neither can you. If the potions run out among the Adamantine eyries, who do you serve? Zafir or the Order?'
'I serve the Order.'
'Of course you do, of course you do. If the speaker goes to war, we shall stop supplying and stockpile at the redoubt instead. We simply can't afford to lose any more. I shall tell the speaker. I'll have to tell the other master alchemists too. Warn them. I suppose I'll have to tell all the eyrie-masters that they might have to fly to Valeford and pick up their potions from there. Make sure your alchemists are ready to do what needs to be done if it comes to the worst. Make sure they've got plenty of what they'll need. Ancestors! I know we've put down dragons before, but has anyone ever put down an entire eyrie of them? I don't think they have! How soon could you be prepared here? I mean if you had to be? If it had to be done?'
'A matter of days.'
'You realise that everyone will try to stop you. You won't only have the speaker's riders and servants and probably half the Scales against you, you'll have the Adamantine Guard to contend with as well.'
'They rarely pay much attention.'
'So be it. I shall come for an inspection of the Adamantine eyrie before the week is out. Now to warn the others.' Vioros groaned. 'More letters?' 'More letters.'
Jeiros was halfway through writing the first when a violent knocking shook the door. He jumped, startled by the sudden sound. He looked at the letter. His hand had twitched in the middle of a stroke and the word was ruined. He'd have to start again.
'Who is it and what do you want?' he snapped. No one ought to be banging on his door. The juniors in the order were permitted a timid knock and the speaker wouldn't bother; she'd simply barge in.
The banging came again. With a growl of irritation, Jeiros got up. He opened the door.
'Tassan.' He blinked, taken aback. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the Night Watchman here. Usually they avoided each other, following some ancient unwritten law that the Order and Adamantine Men simply didn't get along.
Apart from a few nights ago. But then these weren't usual times.
'Acting Grand Master.' Vale Tassan bowed politely. He got my title right, Jeiros noticed. A little too much accent on the Acting though.
'We are extremely busy, thanks largely to you, so I would appreciate it if you were brief.' Jeiros didn't move aside. He certainly didn't want the Night Watchman seeing the letters on the desk.
'I have two things on my mind.' Vale stepped forward. Jeiros still didn't move. The Night Watchman cocked his head. 'May I come in or shall we discuss my business out here where anyone might overhear us. Both my matters are somewhat sensitive.'
Jeiros glanced over his shoulder. Vioros had already cleared the desk. With a sharp nod, Jeiros moved
