Page 60 of Knight's End
Chapter Fifteen
The next four days passed in a blur. There was so much to do. I started taking Donaloo's disgusting tablets, because there weren't enough hours in the day. The wretched things made me gag, but so did all the reports that I got. The one time I tried to eat, I puked all over Jorad's shoes as he stood there holding a plate of pastries. I was trying to eat and read reports about my provinces at the same time—and that particular report describe the gruesome way two of our soldiers had been caught and executed.
I hardly saw my knights—other than Connor. Declan and Ryan disappeared so that Ryan could practice multiplying different kinds of metals to make weapons for our side and diminishing weapons with their opposites to handicap the other side. Apparently, it was incredibly hard for him to avoid just diminishing all weapons on the battlefield at once. Declan reported an incident where they’d flown over a skirmish on our borders between Raslen soldiers and ours. Ryan had ended up turning every sword in the entire battle into a feather. The battle had degraded to a barroom brawl of fisticuffs until Ryan had called out several gargoyles.
Declan had been wheezing with mirth when he’d drunk my amusement. “Tastes like honey,” he’d gasped. And written it down, because of course, Declan was categorizing and codifying each emotion’s taste.
Quinn and Blue decided they didn't trust Quinn’s former spy network, so they were out on gargoyles at all hours, scouring the country for troop movement, treasonous thoughts, and attack plans. The two became as thick as thieves. Their mental conversations were hilarious to watch because Blue was so expressive. He often started forming words with his lips, forgetting he couldn’t talk. And his facials were something we all started to copy when the nights grew long, and we grew a bit loopy from staring at the war maps for hours on end.
Connor and I tried to help the displaced people of Evaness and reach out to the other kingdoms of Kenmare. My diplomatic knight sent missives to Macedon, who offered some minor assistance—they agreed to sanction the two warring nations. Lored didn’t respond at all to our request for assistance.
At first, I was furious, until I heard the queen there had suffered from a stroke. We were still debating the best way to approach requesting help from Gitmore. Connor thought we needed to go in person to show our sincerity and commitment. It would also allow us to bring gifts. But I wasn’t willing to leave Evaness again, not after Sedara’s queen had tried to take my Declan.
Since we reached an impasse regarding Gitmore, we turned our attention to attacking Isla. Of the kingdoms warring against us, hers had the most resources. Raj depended too heavily on wish magic. He wouldn’t have grain stored for winter or extra armor we could use. We needed to defeat her first.
But she must have known, after our botched assassination attempt, that we were after her. Isla seemed to have disappeared. I didn't know how she—with her giants—could disappear. She didn’t have a system of mines and dwarves, like they had up north in Macedon. I wondered if Raj had made her invisible.
But when I’d brought this theory to Blue, he’d said, “My father wouldn’t do that. He’d know that Isla is the weakest link of the three. He’s lived through thirty wars. He’d know that you’d gun for her—and that while you did, it would keep you off his back. He’d leave her exposed.”
So that theory went up in smoke.
I asked Donaloo and Dini one day if they knew how Isla might be hiding. The wizard had been just outside the walls of the castle, waving his hands in the direction of Marscha and finishing up a chant, when I happened upon him and the flower sprite who was still embedded in his forehead, her pointed, pink petals jabbing in time to his words. He was busy restoring the mirror spell. It took three hours of maintenance each day for him to keep the spell active. I didn’t fully understand what he did, other than it required a lot of cumin imported from Lored and fourteen dozen eggs from the chicken coop. Ryan’s youngest recruits had not been happy to see their breakfast diminish.
Donaloo completed his chants and I repeated my question.
“Do you have any idea where I might find Isla?”
The wizard simply shrugged his shoulders at me multiple times. “Is she who you really seek? You can’t end a war by killing the weak.”
My nostrils flared. “Well, we still haven’t found the godsdamned ring for Raj! And we still have no idea what weakness the sea sprite—”
“Eh-hem, half-sprite,” Dini chimed in.
I resisted rolling my eyes. “Any ideas on their weaknesses?”
“Djinn’s weakness are wishes,” said Donaloo.
“Wishes are their weapons,” I countered.
Dini shook her little flower head. “No. He’s right.”
“That makes no sense. Gah!” I pulled at my hair. I should have known better than to come ask Donaloo myself. But Connor was having lunch with Fer, the fairy duchess who oversaw the Cerulean Forest, and I hadn’t wanted to disrupt him. My crass mouth wasn’t helpful when he had to talk frantic nobles down.
I was about to ask how wishes were a weakness when Jorad emerged from around the corner of the castle. The manservant gave me a stiff bow.
“Jorad, everything alright?”
He gazed down on me, arrogant as ever, as he replied. “As well as could be hoped with half the castle out of commission, but an entire battalion of soldiers to feed and house. Why hasn’t everyone unfrozen?”
I turned to Donaloo, the same question in my eyes.
“To the gates of hell and back, you must go to get them back.”
“Thanks for clearing that up,” I pressed my lips together and fought the urge to smack him. He was full of useless answers today.
Jorad just grumbled as he walked off.
Dini’s petals turned to watch him leave. “I don’t like him. You want me to eat him?”
