Betharad had never seen Kavilas so furious. His tanned face was flushed red, and lightning flared in his eyes. He looked like he was about to burst out of his skin.
His companion looked everywhere but at her and her grandmother. He was the former refugee who had spoken at the town meeting. She glanced at Elian, who smiled and shook her head.
“This is Lehir,” the marshal began, “and he has some news you need to hear.”
The horror of what he had to say swept away all else. Jessa and Sarnd had gone to the Enjeb? Arvica and Mirul’s involvement in such a treacherous plot was no surprise, but she’d thought she could trust Caldos.
“I am so sorry,” Lehir concluded, “I did not know what they were planning, or I would not have agreed to translate. Your sister is a generous person and I do not want her to come to any harm.”
“We understand it’s not your fault,” said Kavilas.
“The Enjeb, they bring shame on their raimi and all the other people of the Alminarrh.”
The man bowed and Kavilas let him leave. Once the door was closed, Kavilas swore for the first time ever in her hearing, then almost in the same breath he apologised.
Betharad thought she should respond, but no words came. How she could speak again, when all she wanted to do was to sit down and weep? Her worst nightmare had come true.
Hair scent. Deep laughter. Encircling arms.
Breathe.
“Those fools!” the marshal said, bringing her attention back to the here and now. “We still have hours before Urzed wants our answer—my best protectors are out right now searching for where Marico and Sariah are being held. We could have rescued them without anyone else being put in danger.”
“They have no idea what they’ve done,” Elian said in a half-whisper. Betharad put her arms around her, though she didn’t know whether she was seeking or giving comfort.
Kavilas’s voice was so low, it was almost a growl. “Why do they not grasp we all need to work together if we’re going to get through this? If they wanted to approach Sarnd and Jessa and put the idea to them, they should have asked for the full Council’s approval, or at least mine.”
“I hope you would have refused,” said Elian, giving the Kavilas a hard stare.
For a moment, Betharad saw a flash of annoyance in the marshal’s eyes, and despite all the fears writhing inside her, she prepared to step between the two. But then Kavilas paused, took a breath, and relaxed. His voice was back to its usual, reasonable state. “Yes, you can be assured of that.” He sighed. “While I can see how Arvica would be very worried about her cousins—”
“Cousins?” Betharad blinked. “Marico has never mentioned they’re related.”
“Yes, I only learned that not long ago. Perhaps I’m expecting too much, wanting our leaders to put aside their personal feelings—that’s not directed at you, by the way—but these are trying times for all of us. I suppose it’s not difficult to see why they were tempted by the idea that Urzed would go away and leave us all alone.”
She could see he was trying to find a reason he could sympathise with, that explained the councillors’ actions. Betharad would probably be attempting to rationalise their behaviour too, had she not been consumed with a mixture of horror and anger. Besides, she remembered something that might be important.
“Urzed didn’t say he would leave us alone. He said they would stop any ‘current’ attacks. That doesn’t rule out attacking again in the future.”
Kavilas looked at her, his eyes widened. “You’re right. I’m disappointed in myself for not picking that up before. He may have chosen those words deliberately.”
Her grandmother’s voice was raw and desperate as she interrupted. “Do you have any idea where the Enjeb have taken them?”
“Not at this stage,” he admitted, with a grimace. “But I am expecting a report from the searchers soon. I promise we’ll keep looking until they’re found.”
Betharad had almost constructed a coherent sentence, to thank Kavilas for his diligence and foresight, when Elian said, “I think they would have taken them to Creonze.”
The resignation with which her grandmother spoke cut through Betharad’s inner turmoil. Had she become too preoccupied with her own feelings and missed an important detail?
“That’s a possibility,” agreed Kavilas smoothly, though his eyes had widened in alarm. “I’ll organise for a group of protectors to go and search there, although it will take some time.”
“Please tell them to be extremely careful,” Elian urged. “They could be going into great danger.”
The fortress of Creonze was only about twenty miles away, but Betharad had never met anyone who had visited, and it was reputed to have been deserted for centuries. Rumours of bizarre phenomena clung to the name, though the only one Betharad could remember was the enormous Fissure there. The old saying ‘the wasp stings the nearest fingers’ was one the townspeople took to heart when it came to their mysterious neighbour.
“Of course,” said Kavilas. Like Betharad, he might have been wondering when Elian had become so knowledgeable about these matters.
Her grandmother pursed her lips. “Why is nobody from the Academy ever around when you need them?”
“I dispatched a messenger there after Jessa’s was first abducted,” said the marshal. “But it takes several days to reach the Academy. We can’t afford to wait until we get a reply.”
Betharad’s poise was beginning to return now they had some direction to focus their efforts, no matter how startling the idea her siblings had been taken to Creonze.
Elian’s next words cut away her composure once more. “I fear the Serpentstone may be there, too. That would fit with the return of the Enjeb.”
It was one thing for Councillor Ferran to talk about the reappearance of the Serpentstone as a delicious piece of gossip, another for Elian to deliver such a remark in a matter-of-fact tone. Her mental image of her mild and vague grandmother was fracturing more and more each day.
Kavilas was staring at Elian as if he’d never seen her before. But he did retain enough presence of mind to say, “I’ll instruct the searchers to exercise the utmost caution.”
Elian could be wrong on both counts—Betharad prayed she was—but they had to prepare for all possibilities. Freeing Sarnd and Jessa might mean they would have to defeat the Serpentstone as well as Urzed.
“Could we call on custodians from other nearby towns to help us?” Betharad suggested. “There must be someone.”
“I already sent word to their marshals in case they can offer support, but so far, none have replied.”
So, it looks like nobody will come to our aid, and if they do, it might be too late. And now, the Council is divided.
How much worse can this get?
She had the feeling she was going to find out soon.