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He grabbed the sheet and tore it off the bed. One or two long strips would do it. He could wrap them around his waist, beneath his jacket, and be out the window in less than a minute.

Taniel stopped. He’d heard something. Just the wind, or…

Footsteps on the stairs.

He finished his cuts and grabbed a handful of bloody linens. He made a dash for the window.

The door opened.

A Prielight Guard stood in the door, a platter with fresh bread and cheese and a bottle of wine. He stopped, mouth open in surprise, at the sight of Taniel.

The silence was broken as the guard threw the platter to the floor and drew his sword, running forward with a shout.

Chapter 39

Tamas wasn’t sure which bothered him more: the look of sudden fear in Hailona’s eyes, or what she said immediately afterward.

“It’s true. Adro has invaded Deliv!” The words came out as a gasp. Hailona put one hand to her mouth. “You’re here, so it must be true.” She rocked back in her seat, and for a moment Tamas thought she might fall.

He rushed to her side and tried to take her hand, but she pulled back as if it were a serpent.

“Get back,” she said breathlessly.

“It’s not true,” he said. “None of that.”

“How can I be sure? Where is Sabon?”

The question Tamas dreaded the most. He evaded it. “Look at me. Am I in uniform? Have you seen me in public since this army took Alvation? They’re not my men!”

Hailona stared at him as if in shock.

Tamas went on. “Do you think I’d be stupid enough to attack Deliv? To risk them joining the war when Kez has sacked Budwiel and threatens the very heart of Adro? No, Hailona, this is a plot by the Kez to turn our nations against each other.”

Hailona visibly steeled herself. She stood, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. Some of her old regality returned then and she seemed younger.

“Explain yourself,” she said. Her gaze was hard, accusing.

Tamas felt himself flinch. Fifteen years since they’d last spoken. How could he convince her?

“I have two brigades of men camped a day outside the city. We were trapped in Kez after the battle of Budwiel. My men are bloodied, tired, and starving. We came north for succor in Alvation. Imagine my surprise to see soldiers in Adran blue holding the city.”

“Can you prove it?”

“Prove it? Those soldiers out there – I’d bet half of them only speak Kez. The ones who speak Adran do it with an accent thicker than my Deliv. I don’t know what’s happening here any more than you do, but I have my suspicions.”

“You’ll have to do better than ‘suspicions,’” Hailona said. “Demasolin will be back any moment. He won’t believe you.” She said the words as if she didn’t believe him either.

“Who is he?” Tamas glanced toward the door Demasolin had taken to chase Vlora.

“My brother-in-law. The duke of Vindren.”

“You remarried? I didn’t know.”

“Ten years ago. I asked Sabon not to tell you. Where is he? Demasolin will not trust him either, but a countryman is more believable than an Adran.”

Tamas pulled back. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face. She’d asked Sabon not to tell him that she’d gotten remarried? Sabon was like a brother to Tamas. At one point, he’d been close to marrying Hailona and now she glossed past it like it wasn’t any kind of issue.

He mentally checked himself. He had more important things to worry about.

He heard steps coming down the hallway. The door opened, and an older Deliv gentleman in a servant’s evening jacket stood in the doorway. He seemed startled to find Tamas there and glanced between Hailona and Tamas quickly. He tensed, as if ready to spring between them.

“It’s all right, Ruper,” Hailona said. “How is everyone?”

“Ferhulia will die before the night is over,” Ruper said. His voice had the educated politeness of a butler. “Inel might make it, but we have to move him. We can’t stay here. They’ll come for us.”

“Who?” Tamas demanded. “Who is coming for you?”

“The general in command of the…” She hesitated just a moment before saying, “Adran army. His name is Saulkin. We tried to kill him tonight but it was a trap. He saw me clearly when we retreated and he knows who I am.”

“We could have barely minutes, ma’am,” Ruper said.

The glass door to the observatory portico opened. Demasolin strode through the door. He removed black gloves and threw them to the table, only to freeze in place when he saw Tamas.

“Who is this?” His gaze cut through Tamas, his eyes narrowed. Tamas was able to see him better now. Demasolin was in his thirties, perhaps, with a clean-shaven face and strong jawline. He had the bearing of a duke, Tamas decided.

“An old… friend,” Hailona said. “Did you catch the intruder?”

Demasolin continued to stare at Tamas. “Apparently not.” His nose twitched as he sniffed. “She got away,” he said. “Leapt the garden wall like it was nothing. A powder mage. I’d bet my life on it.” Another sniff. “As is this one.”

In one quick motion Demasolin discarded his pistol and a belt of powder charges, throwing them away from Tamas. He drew his sword. “Powder mage or not, I will gut you. Remove your weapons.”

“You think you can?” Tamas asked quietly.

Tamas was tired. He’d made this entire trek north just to reach Alvation, where he thought he’d find succor, only to find the city held by the enemy and the very people that he’d looked to for help now suspicious of him.

He knew he should disarm. Let them see he wasn’t a threat. Take the time to explain himself.

But if what Ruper said was true, more soldiers would arrive any minute. Tamas would not disarm for one man with a sword.

Tamas laid a hand gently on the hilt of his sword.

Demasolin darted forward.

Tamas drew his sword and set his back foot in less time than it took to blink. Demasolin came on quickly.

“Stop! He’ll kill you!”

Demasolin slowed. Tamas relaxed, suddenly wary. Was Hailona talking to him? She knew who he was. What he was capable of.

“Demasolin,” Hailona said. “Please, wait. He’ll kill you.”

“I’ve killed powder mages before,” Demasolin said between gritted teeth. “I’ve killed a Privileged. I am the duke of Vindren!” He said it like the name would mean something to Tamas.

It did, finally. A tickle in the back of his memory. Vindren. A man with a Knack for smells. Nose like a bloodhound. Quick as a powder mage in full trance.

Tamas lowered his sword.

“You surrender?” Demasolin said.

“No.”

Demasolin took another step forward.

“I feel like this is a waste of our time,” Tamas said.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Hailona suddenly said. “Outside in the street. Who killed all of those soldiers. I told you it was a powder mage,” she said to her brother-in-law.

“I only saw a shadow,” Demasolin said. The tip of his sword wavered.

“It was I,” Tamas said. “Do you want a demonstration?”

“I don’t take well to threats, old man.”

Tamas examined Demasolin. Muscles taut, ready to lunge. His bearing, confidence, and stance all said that he was a gifted swordsman.

A young woman suddenly burst through the door. She wore her hair up, a greatcoat over her shoulders, and Tamas could sense two pistols under the coat. “Ma’am,” she said, with only one quick glance at the two men pointing their swords at each other, “there are soldiers in the street.”

“Put your swords up!” Hailona hissed at Tamas and Demasolin. To the young woman, she said, “How many?”

“Eight, ma’am, but…”

“What is it?”

“They’re all dead, ma’am. Freshly dead.”

Hailona looked at Tamas.

Tamas shrugged. “I only killed the ones chasing you.”

There was a low knock on the glass door to the portico. Everyone looked that way. From Tamas’s position he could see Vlora. She was carrying something large. He gestured her in.