Earth spent the whole trip down the hill babbling to Erde about his discovery. It wasn’t exactly true that he knew where the Mage City was—Rose had misunderstood some of the finer details. But lying out in the meadow enjoying himself after a satisfying meal, he had heard the Summoner’s voice for the first time while he was awake, in his head, not like a real sound, but the voice was now directional. It drew him like a lodestone. He was sure he could follow it to its source which, of course, was the city.
Erde told him what Rose had said about the city. He took this as further proof, which she would have been inclined to do also, were the Mage City not her own invention. She felt too deeply mired in her “righteous lie” to see a way out of it. Besides, she did have to wonder about what Rose had seen. Perhaps she had not made it up. Perhaps the image of the Mage City had come into her mind from somewhere else, from someone else. Once again, she decided to say nothing of this to the dragon. Even a fantasy destination was better than no destination at all.
* * *
The yard in front of the house was deserted when Hal and Erde reached the farmstead. The lanterns burned in scattered groups on the porch where they’d been hastily abandoned. The lore-keepers looked grim.
“All inside, I suspect,” said one. The other hung a lantern to either side of the door, then blew the rest out and replaced them neatly in their rack. Erde left the dragon pacing impatiently in the yard. She followed Hal into the house.
Inside, oil lamps flared around the stone hearth, where the women were gathered. A young woman lay bleeding in Raven’s arms, struggling to speak while Linden sponged her wounds. Her clothing was torn and mud-spattered. Rose knelt alongside, holding the woman’s limp hand and bending close to hear her broken whisper.
Doritt caught Hal’s arm as he came up beside her. Her big dark eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Margit’s been taken!”
“What! Where?”
“Erfurt,” she hissed. “Lily’s run back all the way alone.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’ll be all right.”
“Who got Margit?”
“Adolphus of Köthen.”
“Of . . . Köthen? Köthen?”
Doritt nodded. “I’m sorry, Hal.”
“Köthen in Erfurt?”
“He’s leading the barons’ army.”
Hal seemed to wish he hadn’t heard her right. “What about the king?”
“The king has fled.”
His only response was a soft moan.
“Toward Nürnburg, with a few of his household. Prince Carl stayed with Köthen.”
“Willingly?”
“Willingly.”
Erde watched the knight’s entire body reel under this last piece of news. In their month together, she had never seen his manner go so hard and cold, and yet somehow so sad. “Köthen always did have an abnormal influence over the boy. Is Margit alive?”
Doritt’s mouth tightened. “So far. We don’t have a lot of details yet, but Lily’s afraid that Baron Köthen will use Margit to prove his loyalty when Fra Guill arrives next week to give his blessing to the barons’ coup.”
“The hell-priest in Erfurt, too? Oh, too close, Doritt, too close for comfort. I hope Lily covered her trail.”
Doritt looked offended. “Lily’s our most gifted Seeker. Of course she covered her trail.”
“Erfurt taken. The king’s own seat.” Hal glanced about furtively as if he were being held against his will. “I must get to Nürnburg. I must get to His Majesty.”
“What about Margit? You know he’ll burn her, Hal.”
“She knew the risk, as we all do. My duty is with the king.”
Doritt looked away, frowning, then nodded. “And Margit would surely agree. Will you leave the girl and her creature with us?”
His nod was businesslike. “They’re safer here than anywhere.”
Erde grabbed his sleeve and shook her head.
“Milady, please understand. Speed is essential now.”
She was sure from his posture that he was about to explain how this was men’s work ahead of him. She searched about, found a scrap of Raven’s paper in her pocket. EARTH WILL NOT STAY. HE IS CALLED.
“Ah, yes,” agreed Doritt. “He’s on his own quest, after all. They’ll just go off on their own without you.”
“And Fra Guill will have them in a blink of an eye. Ah, sweet Mother, help me. What do I do?” Hal paced away and back. “King or Dragon? Must I choose?”
Erde wrote: WE’LL ALL GO TO NÜRNBURG.
“Milady, our little walk in the woods has just become infinitely more dangerous.”
She nodded, once and briskly.
“Rose’s Seeing proves you’ve still a ways to go together,” Doritt pointed out.
“He moves too slowly! He’s like a snail!”
HE’LL MOVE FASTER, Erde promised.
Because the knight did not refuse her outright, she knew that the session up on the hill had changed something fundamental in his thinking about her and the dragon, a change she sensed in her own thinking as well. New sensations of confidence and potential were spreading through her like slow warmth, a growing need to act, to stand against the evil tide of events rather than be swept along by it. She had fallen in with this loose network of royalists by accident, if there was any such thing as accident (which she was beginning to doubt), but they were her natural allies. Her enemies were their enemies. Most importantly, she had a notion that the dragon was also readying himself to act. She had no idea what form his action might take, but as Dragon Guide, she might well influence his choice.
She had a strange moment of self-awareness, as if she were standing across the room looking back. She saw a tall young woman with a ruddy boyish face and determined jaw, strong and lean from travel and the knight’s training exercises, clothed in a man’s pragmatic garb. The sallow longhaired child in slippers and velvet dresses was a fading memory. Her mouth twisted with reflective irony. She’d become what she’d always pretended to be in her fantasies, what her father had always feared and despised. Interesting that it had required the sacrifice of her entire life as she’d known it to accomplish the transformation.
Possessed by this new self as if by some benign but reckless demon, Erde grinned at Hal and scrawled: WE’LL SAVE THE KING TOGETHER.
Hal squeezed his eyes shut once, then nodded helplessly.