Page 84 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
“And if we can find an artifact there, we can cut Caledon’s quest for immortality off at the root. The dryads said you need all four objects to combine them—if we get to just one of them first, he’ll never succeed.”
“And if Caledon already has anything he could have gotten from the Lyceum?” she asks. “He could’ve sent another member of the Morelium since we left.”
“I’d be surprised. A theft from Vastamae is the kind of news I’d hear about. But let’s check. We can send a message to my brother and the mages asking for their help finding out what and where this object is likely to be—or who might have left behind written records of it.”
“Vastamae may be good at keeping secrets, but your grandfather is even better at finding them out,” Alastor pipes up, and I realize most of the group have been listening to our conversation. “Don’t you think he’d have taken the artifact for himself rather than let Vastamae keep it?”
“Yes,” I say. “Which is why I’m confident hedoesn’tknow about it. You’re right that if there was a powerful token once belonging to a god at Vastamae, he’d have claimed it for himself and—more importantly—he’d have used it already.”
“I’ll go,” Phaia says, standing up. “I’ll take the message to Prince Fairon and the mages.”
Phaia is usually the calm one, cool and placid, but right now she has an eager energy. Her eyes shine brightly at me, and her expression is determined.
“I’m sorry, Phaia,” I say. “But the answer is no.”
Her eyebrows rise, and she takes a step forward. “But captain?—”
“I know why you want to take the message, and I’m aware you’ve been away from Helia for too long.” I give her a meaningful look. “I know how much you miss her,believeme.”
It is the first time I can honestly claim I know what Phaia’s going through.
“You’re sure you need me here?” Phaia asks, unable to hide the note of defeat in her voice.
“It’s not that,” I say. “It’s Lavail I’m worried about. The moment any of my soldiers step foot in the city, my grandfather will know about it. And the first thing he would do is summon you and compel you to tell him everything you know about our activities.”
“And she’d be forced to answer,” Ana says, understanding my meaning.
“Exactly. A monarch’s orders outrank a captain’s, even if that captain is the King’s Sword. And if we want to avoid this artifact falling into my grandfather’s hands, sending you is too risky.”
“What about me?” The voice comes from behind Phaia, and the soldier steps aside to look down at Tira. This close together, the height difference between them is more noticeable than ever, but Tira stands tall and confident despite her short stature.
“I’ve been to the Filusian court before. I know the way. And the king doesn’t have any authority over me.Icould take the message.”
She wants to prove herself. After her mistake in the forest, after all the training she’s been doing, she wants to show she can be an asset. I respect that, but I can already sense the alarm pouring off of Ana.
“No, Tira. It’s too far. It’s toodangerous?—”
“Is it?” Tira interrupts Ana. “I know humans are unusual in Filusia, but they’re not targeted or abused—right?” She looks to us for confirmation. Of course, Alastor gets there first.
“You might get a few odd looks or comments, but it would be no more dangerous a journey than through Trova, at least until you got to the palace.”
“Alastor!” Ana says.
“What?” He holds his hands up. “It’s the truth.”
“He has a point, my love,” I say, though I suspect my term of endearment doesn’t soften the blow. Ana looks at me with a betrayed expression. Still, I press on. “Tira’s right that my grandfather can’t compel her to tell him anything.”
“There’s more than one way of compelling someone,” Ana says grimly, and I know she’s thinking of the torture Caledon put her through. I take herhand, wanting to offer as much comfort as I can. She frowns at me but doesn’t pull away.
“That’s a line he won’t cross, I promise you. Interrogating the close friend of a foreign monarch would be too aggressive even for him.”
“Especially if Morgana made her a royal emissary,” Phaia says. “He really couldn’t touch her then.”
“What’s that?” Tira asks.
“It’s a kind of diplomat afforded certain immunities in a foreign court,” Phaia explains.
“That doesn’t mean she’ll be safe!” Ana says. “She can’t go all the way to Filusia on her own.”
