She hugged her pack to her chest, looking at him like she expected him to object.
On the contrary, while it was out of his expectations, this was better than he could have hoped. He could take her, she could do her alchemist’s work on the journey, thus saving them time in the Capital. And then he could dump her in Axciss and be done.
Well, maybe not in Axciss. There would be a hunt for unregistered alchemists in Axciss after an explosion at the arena. Somewhere else on the Izyrian coast, then.
“I’m certain we can find you somewhere. My…a woman of my close acquaintance is from Vandenyas.” At this point, he wasn’t sure how to describe his relationship with Jerri, so he skipped past it. “We can set you up there, where it’s warm, after we’re done in Izyria. Unless you’d prefer—”
She cut him off by spearing him with her eyes. This was the most resolute he’d seen her, and suddenly she looked years older. “Take me with you. On your ship. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
That should have required a little more deliberation, and he certainly should consult with his crew. Jerri might enjoy having another woman onboard, or she might not. And Andel wouldn’t appreciate having to spread their already-meager income around further. He was already being surprisingly agreeable about this daring plan to rescue Urzaia, considering that a daring rescue plan is what had led to Calder’s debt to the throne in the first place. Foster…Foster would grumble about anything, but he was actually the least likely to raise a real objection.
But the one asking him was a young girl dressed in rags who was forced to practice alchemy in what amounted to a giant garbage bin. Sympathy made the decision for him.
“What’s your name?” he asked softly.
“Petal.”
There was one other thing he had to know, just to make sure he didn’t add kidnapping and endangerment of a child to his growing list of Imperial crimes. “And how old are you, Petal?”
She cast her gaze down to the street as though embarrassed. “Twenty-three,” she said.
Calder stared at her. Light and life. She was older than he was.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
From the moment Guild Head Kern joined the battle, our troops were no longer required. I would call the destruction ‘absolute.’
In the last week, Calder had spent more time in carriages than in the entire rest of his life combined. They weren’t nearly as comfortable as he thought they should be.
He paused with his pen halfway to the page, looking to Andel. “How do you say, ‘I’m sorry my wife killed your assassin?’”
“Not like that.”
Calder, Andel, and General Teach were all riding together, and even though this carriage had been constructed to the Emperor’s specifications, it was still crowded with that much armor. Teach took up more space than Calder and Andel combined, her armor filling the space with the smell of iron and oil.
These two were not the first people he’d ask for advice regarding a diplomatic letter, but they were all he had. He’d wanted a Consultant’s touch, but Meia was gone. The medical alchemists in charge of her care had come in to an empty bed, and the Imperial Guards outside the doors never saw a thing. A thorough search of the Imperial Palace afterward had revealed no trace of her. Once again, Meia had disappeared.
Though if she chose to pop up in the middle of this very carriage, he still wouldn’t be entirely surprised.
“An official apology would be a mistake,” Teach put in. She was watching the streets through a crack in the window, presumably looking for threats, but she had enough spare attention to criticize his letter. “It implies that you are in some way responsible. You can express your condolences, since you did not officially execute the Consultant, but it might ring hollow. Given that we’re preparing to attack their headquarters.”
That the Imperialist Guilds were gathering for an attack was common knowledge, even if their target was a secret. A secret to most, at any rate. Calder was certain that the Consultants would know exactly what they were planning, and would be coming up with some way to counter them.
“I’m still not certain I want to attack the Consultant’s Guild,” Calder said, though it was mostly an empty protest. The Navigators were recalling to the Capital and stocking up on supplies, the Imperial Guards had begun training for naval warfare, and the Magisters were bringing up what weapons they could. The Witnesses had published an article in the news-sheets exonerating the Imperialist Guilds for “any attacks they may conduct in the pursuit of justice.” The tide was going out, and Calder could see it.
But he couldn’t fight the feeling that he was playing straight into someone else’s hands.
Teach didn’t respond to his words, but she shook her head faintly as she kept watch out the window. Andel was the one to speak up, and surprisingly, he did so without a trace of mockery. “You should recognize when a battle is lost, Captain.”
“If the battle’s already lost, I can’t imagine why we’re still sending our troops.”
Andel didn’t rise to the bait. “Not that battle. Yours. The Guilds are moving out, and your only hope of maintaining your position is to move with them.”
Calder turned to him, and out of respect for the man’s forthright honesty, he responded in kind. “Even if this is an Elder plot? Even if this is Othaghor dividing us up piece by piece, to be devoured one at a time?”
Andel leaned forward, the White Sun of the Luminians swinging at the end of its silver chain. “‘The educated man embraces the inevitable.’ Sadesthenes, I believe.”
“I hate it when you use Sadesthenes against me,” Calder said.
“Imagine how the rest of us feel.”
He was right. Calder was still trying to fight yesterday’s battle, something most of the ancient scholars would have counseled him against. “So I should just give up, then?”
Predictably, Andel had an answer for that, too. “We’re fighting them, whether you like it or not. So if there’s going to be a battle, we may as well figure out how to win.”
Kelarac’s gold-capped smile appeared in Calder’s mind. He was sure that the Great Elder would have been delighted with the way events were proceeding. But that didn’t mean Andel was wrong; if they really were cornered by the Elders, the only way out was through.
The only thing worse than getting forced into a battle was getting forced into a losing battle.
“Very well,” Calder said, nodding to Andel to concede the point. “Then we’ve already taken our first step toward victory. We’re heading to see Kern.”
Teach sighed. “Which will either lead to victory or to your gruesome death.” She had been very much against Calder personally coming on this little carriage ride, and had agreed only on the premise that she accompany him.
“If you’re worried that it will be too dangerous, you could have brought more Guards.”
“They wouldn’t help. Baldesar Kern is loyal and stable enough, but if he decides to kill you, I’m the only one that can hold him back long enough for you to escape.” She didn’t claim that she could kill him, Calder noticed. Only that she could temporarily keep him in check. That said everything he needed to know about Kern’s ability.
“I’m sorry to worry you,” Calder said. “But while I’m at it, I should tell you that I’ll be leading the attack on the Gray Island.”
Teach turned from the window at last to glare at him, and her attention carried the baleful, deadly aura of Tyrfang’s Intent. It was hard not to shrink back. “Absolutely not. Two minutes ago you didn’t want the attack at all.”