“Of course, Contessa. It is already in progress. They’ve found this.” She handed my mother an official-looking paper.
I peeked over my mother’s shoulder. Elegant, formal script spelled out a familiar message, marred by one or two corrections. It was unquestionably a draft of the letter the parents of the missing Ardentine children had received commanding them to submit to Raverra’s authority.
“Hell of Discord.” The words slipped out of my mouth all in a breath. “If Ardence learns of this …”
It would justify all the worst suspicions of the Shadow Gentry. I couldn’t blame them for accusing Raverra anymore. No matter what other pieces of the truth we were missing, this letter inked a clear trail.
One of the Council of Nine had been involved in the abduction.
My mother handed the paper back to Ciardha. “We must convene what is left of the Council,” she said. “There is one more judgment to pass today.”
A nonstop whirlwind of activity blew through my house all night and throughout the next day: spies and messengers bearing reports, Ciardha coming and going with her face grim and her eyes shadowed with lack of sleep, and the doge and half the Council calling on La Contessa—during the brief periods when she wasn’t at the Imperial Palace herself.
My mother strongly advised me to stay home until she could be certain Baron Leodra hadn’t left behind any assassins with orders to finish the task Orthys had failed to accomplish. Not long ago, I would have been perfectly content to spend as many days as my mother liked reading in the library or drawing up artifice-project ideas in my room, but now I found it impossible to settle to anything. I paced the library, or stared out the palace windows at the Imperial Canal, and eavesdropped relentlessly on every bit of news I could get about how the revelation of Leodra’s treachery was affecting the situation with Ardence.
It seemed a thorough search of his house and papers, and even more thorough questioning of his most trusted lieutenants and advisers, turned up no further hints or evidence pertaining to the kidnapping of the Ardentine children. If he’d done more than supply the writ and seal, he’d left no trace of it. My hopes this discovery would free the children and end the threat of war faded. This wasn’t so simple a matter as Leodra orchestrating the entire thing himself.
The evening after Leodra’s treachery, Domenic paid a call, to my great relief. But we’d barely settled down in the parlor with a tray of rosemary-and-cheese crostini when he confessed the true purpose of his visit.
“I’m headed back to Ardence tomorrow morning.” He sighed despondently. “I don’t want to go. By all reports, court’s more a mess of shouting and bad ideas than ever. But I have to at least try to persuade my cousin the duke to receive the Serene Envoy again. And talk my brother out of making mistakes that could destroy the future of my city.”
“Are you not joining the Shadow Gentry after all, then?” I kept my voice light and teasing, but I could hear the strain under it, and I suspected Domenic could as well. “I was all ready to buy you a gray domino mask and a mysterious cloak.”
“While I’m sure I’d look quite dashing in that, you’d best hold off your mask shopping for now.” Domenic turned a crostini in his hands as if it were a rare artifact he was evaluating. “They do have some points, mind you, especially about the unwilling conscription of Falcons. But Gabril—well, our father was a historian, you see.”
“I know. I have his Chronicle of the Rise of Ardence.”
Domenic’s face brightened momentarily. “Yes, yes! That’s his best. Half the reason he abdicated the ducal throne was to write that book. Gabril loved it. All the glorious victories and clever stratagems. Those were the parts of Ardence’s history he paid attention to.” He took a contemplative nibble of his crostini. “But he forgets that the reason there are so many stories of great military battles in Ardence’s history as an independent city-state, before Raverra defeated us and brought us into the Empire, is because we were always at war. Endless bloody conflicts with the other city-states in central Eruvia, playing out petty power struggles and helping no one.” Domenic shook his head. “We may grumble about Raverra, and even rail at it sometimes, but Ardence’s golden years came after it joined the Empire. We are safe, and strong, and free to focus on the trade and art and innovation that made Ardence into a city truly blessed by the Graces. I can’t let them throw all that away.”
I swallowed a brittle lump. “Do you think they will?”
“Unless we can convince them Raverra didn’t steal their heirs, yes, they seem determined to try.”
I crumbled a crostini between my fingers. I wanted to tell him about Leodra, but that was a deep state secret—and I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d take it. “I hope someone finds those children soon.”
Domenic nodded gravely. “I think of them every day. I hope they’re safe, at least. And if we could find them—well, that would help a great deal.” He slapped his leg suddenly. “Oh! And I meant to tell you—they’re not the only thing missing. Did I leave Interactions of Magic here by any chance?”
“You haven’t lost it!” I gasped.
He grimaced. “I can’t imagine how I could have, honestly. But I’ve packed to head home, and it’s not where I thought I left it.”
“Have you checked to make sure it didn’t get mixed up with any library books? Like that time you accidentally returned Venasha’s personal copy of Ancient Ostan Artifice as Art: Tomb Wards and Temple Murals to the university library, and I had to talk her down from shaving your head while you slept?”
Domenic winced. “I learned from that mistake. Though actually, one of my friends from the Imperial Library was visiting and asked if he could borrow Interactions of Magic sometime, and I said of course. Possibly he thought I meant ‘now’ instead of ‘maybe in a few months, when I’m done reading it seven times and gazing lovingly at it and petting it occasionally,’ and took it with him.”
“I’ll look for it. And I’ll have someone check to see if it’s turned up in the Imperial Library.”
“And I’ll ask my friend. Thanks.” Domenic favored me with a brilliant smile. “I’ll miss you, Amalia.”
“You’ll have to come back to visit soon, then,” I said, with forced cheer.
“Of course. Nothing could keep me away.”
But his voice held an edge. We both knew that soon travel between our cities might not be so simple.
Shortly after Domenic left, my mother returned from the Imperial Palace, her shoulders drooping with exhaustion. I was fairly certain she hadn’t slept since discovering Leodra’s treachery. She called for mulled wine, kicked her shoes off in the foyer like a child, and retired to the drawing room for a discussion with Ciardha.
I lurked near the half-open drawing room door, trying to overhear them. But by the time I resolved meaning from the murmur of their voices, they fell silent. I strained closer, trying to figure out what was happening. Had my mother dozed off?
“Come in, child,” La Contessa called. “The door is open.”
Ciardha held the door for me, amusement dancing on her lips. My cheeks warm, I entered the room. Ciardha bowed and left.
Far from dozing off in a chair, my mother stood by the fireplace, leaning against the mantel, mulled wine in hand. Deep shadows cradled her eyes.
“You no longer need to remain in our palace,” she said. “It should be no more dangerous than usual out there.”
“Did you catch Leodra?”
“No. He’s disappeared most thoroughly, at least for now. But I’m sufficiently confident we’ve uncovered and neutralized any remaining resources he had.” She sipped her wine, savoring it a moment on her tongue, with the lingering relish of a woman who hadn’t done anything for her own comfort in some time. “We have more than enough evidence to hang Leodra for treason. It seems he sent the letters with the imperial seal and the false writs to Ardence through Orthys—we found an extra copy of the writ on Orthys’s ship, which I suspect the scoundrel was keeping for his own pur
poses. But we still don’t know who received the papers from Orthys in Ardence.”
“Perhaps tracking down Leodra will uncover new leads,” I said hopefully. “There has to be some trace of what happened to those children.”
“If so, we’d best find it soon.” My mother’s mouth settled into a grim line. “The doge wants the Ardence situation resolved swiftly. No matter how hard we try to keep secret that there was a traitor among the Council of Nine, rumors will spread. The Serene Empire must appear more unified than ever, so that we can move past this moment with undiminished grace.”
Domenic’s assessment of the Ardentine side of the equation didn’t seem to suggest a swift solution was likely, barring the return of the missing children. “And how does His Serenity plan to bring Ardence back under the Serene Accords so quickly?”
La Contessa set down her empty glass on the mantel. “That,” she said, “is a matter currently under some debate. I expect we’ll come to a decision tomorrow.”
There was a certain ominous finality to her tone. “What …? Do I want to know what that means?”
“That depends on what we decide. Which reminds me. The doge requests your presence tomorrow, at the Imperial Palace.”
“What for?” I could think of no reason that didn’t add another handful of cold pebbles to the growing mound in my stomach.
“He wishes to tell you himself.” She paused on her way to the door to lay a hand briefly on the top of my head, a touch light and quick as the stroke of a dove’s wing. “But make sure you have plenty of elixir on hand, Amalia, and decline your invitations for next week. You’ll need to prepare for a trip.”
“Ardence. Of course you’re sending me to Ardence.”
I sank against the hard back of my chair, to the degree possible in a corset, not caring what the doge thought of my posture. So much for my hopes to find a way to ease the tension with Ardence. Now I’d have to help make it worse.
The spark held steady in Niro da Morante’s eyes as he regarded me across a writing table. I’d known this meeting would be trouble the moment I’d heard it would be in his private study. The room had no windows, and the few lamps he’d lit failed to hold back the gloom, though they picked occasional gleams of gold from the shadows.
“You and your Falcon both.” He rolled a pen between his fingers. “Can you control her?”
“Your Serenity, I doubt anyone can control her.”
The pen stopped. “Think very carefully about that statement,” he said.
A cold needle of fear slid through my heart. “Your Serenity?”
“If a fire warlock cannot be controlled, she is a danger to the Empire. It is my solemn duty to eliminate threats to the Serene City.” His voice stayed relentlessly calm—a voice that had condemned people to death often enough that the words would flow familiarly over his tongue. “I ask you again. Can you control her?”
I swallowed. “I can bind her power, Your Serenity. And she can control herself. If we earn her loyalty, that comes out to the same thing, in the end.”
He stared at me for a long time. I didn’t look away, even when I felt like screaming at him to say something.
“Do you understand,” he said at last, “why I am sending you to Ardence?”
“The paradox of force,” I whispered.
“Exactly.” He steepled his fingers before him. “It is my hope, Lady Amalia, we will have no need to unleash your Falcon’s fire and that your presence will serve as a sufficient reminder to Duke Bergandon to behave himself. But if that hope fails, I need to be certain I can carry through on my implicit threat. Especially now, when so many other problems distract the Empire. Do you understand?”
“Yes. But, Your Serenity, someone is trying to goad Raverra and Ardence into fighting. All these other forces disturbing the serenity of the Empire—Leodra, Vaskandar—have helped create this problem.” My corset stays dug into my legs as I strained at the edge of my seat. “You must see that.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then surely you wouldn’t burn Ardence over a needless conflict sparked by deceit. We must find out the truth behind the false Falconer incident, not escalate it to war.”
He raised an eyebrow. “My lady, you mistake the situation, and you mistake me.”
“Oh?”
“This is not a matter of truth,” he said. “This is a matter of dominion.”
My shoulders went rigid. “So you don’t care who took those children. You don’t care who’s trying to start a war. You just want Ardence to bend the knee.”
“On the contrary, Lady Amalia. I do care. I want to see the children returned, and the ones who would dare attempt to manipulate the Serene Empire brought to justice.” He spread his hands. “If you wish to seek the truth, by all means, do so, with my blessing. You are reportedly a woman of intelligence, and you have connections in Ardence; you are well suited to the task. And if the truth can prevent a war, so much the better.” His voice was hard as a new-forged blade. “But that truth alone will not keep Ardence from harsh consequences. They have broken the Serene Accords twice. The only thing that can save them now is acceptance of Raverran rule.”
I didn’t dare speak. The words on my tongue were too bitter.
The doge leaned forward. “I have one clear priority: the unassailable strength and unity of the Serene Empire. If Ardence pushes us any further—if it rebels against the Serene City openly—then yes, Lady Amalia. It will burn. And to be clear, yours will be the word that burns it.”
I stared at him, my throat tight and hot. He waited, patient as a stalking leopard.
Finally, I nodded. “Yes, Your Serenity.”
Chapter Sixteen
After my meeting with the doge, my mother called on me to attend a strategy session of the Council of Nine. This did nothing to dissipate the smothering cloud of dread the doge’s words had laid upon me; I had no illusions this was a simple opportunity to watch and learn. They wanted me present as the fire warlock’s Falconer, not as the Cornaro heir.
Only eight members of the Council stood around the table in the Map Room. Baron Leodra had held one of the five elected positions in the Council of Nine, and the Assembly had not yet chosen his successor. Assorted generals, advisers, and the like fit in around them, including Colonel Vasante. Marcello stood uneasily at her shoulder, along with his fellow lieutenant, the ranking Falcon at the Mews. My eyes pulled straight to him, and he flashed me a small, nervous smile.
I took half a step toward him. But my mother was watching, her face cool and distant.
Fine. If she was so concerned about people seeing me next to Marcello, I wouldn’t stand with her, either. I slipped into a gap near the marquise of Palova and the admiral of the navy.
The doge surveyed the assembled dignitaries a moment, then slapped his palm down on the map. Marcello jumped at the sound.
“Vaskandar first,” he announced. “Their forces on the border have moved—but not through the pass. They appear to have taken up rather uncomfortable positions on and around Mount Whitecrown.” The green stones had in fact shifted, forming a scattered cluster deep in the heart of the Witchwall Mountains. It didn’t seem like a good vantage point from which to attack. “Can anyone explain this madness?”
The generals frowned at the map. Something tickled the back of my mind.
“Volcanic glass.” The words burst out despite the fact I wasn’t strictly supposed to speak at these meetings unless asked a question.
The doge frowned. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a power source for artifice. Volcanoes contain an incredible amount of power, even ones like Mount Whitecrown that haven’t erupted in a hundred years. Artifice can extract some of that power from volcanic glass.”
I had their attention; Colonel Vasante nodded, and the Council and the generals looked thoughtful. The doge drummed his fingers on the table. “But Vaskandar has next to no artificers.”
“The Witch Lords have never shown interest in obsidian before,” the
marquise of Palova said. “It’s a good point, and we should keep it in mind. But I’m more concerned about Mount Whitecrown as a vantage point over Ardence and the central border defenses. If they’re planning any kind of magical assault that requires a clear line of sight, they’ll have it from there.”
The doge stared at me thoughtfully for a moment, then at the marquise, then down at the map. “Mount Whitecrown is on their side of the border, just barely. If we try to take it from them, we’re the ones starting a war.”
“Now is not a good time for that,” my mother said.
The marquise of Palova nodded. “We need to figure out what they’re doing, watch them closely, and have forces in position to act. But first we need to stabilize Ardence, and quickly. We can’t have rebellion threatening the heart of the Empire when Vaskandar may be getting ready to make a move.”
The doge nodded. “Ah, yes. Ardence. I agree we must resolve that matter swiftly. We cannot afford to appear weak when we have faced … internal difficulties.”
A tense hush fell over the room. No one looked at the spot where Baron Leodra usually stood.
La Contessa broke the silence at last. “We need to show unity as well as strength. What we do in Ardence must appear effortless. If the city can be brought back into the fold diplomatically, so much the better.”
“It is difficult to employ diplomacy when Duke Astor won’t speak to the Serene Envoy, save to issue unreasonable demands,” the doge said dryly.
“He’s receiving poor counsel from the Shadow Gentry,” my mother said. “I suspect you’ll see a change within the next few days, when Lady Savony returns to advise him.”
“Perhaps he will be more willing to resume cordial relations with the Empire when he has a fire warlock inside his city.” The doge’s words rang with a steely edge. “For now, we will move in no additional troops, to preserve the serenity of the Empire.”
Vasante cleared her throat. “And what exactly happens if Ardence still refuses to receive the Serene Envoy, Your Serenity? If this last attempt at diplomacy fails?”
The Tethered Mage Page 21
