LIO WAS CONVINCED OF Cassia’s hidden depths, but he could not fathom whence her heartfelt statement had
arisen.
He followed her, throwing open the currents of the Blood Union. They buffeted him headfirst
against an array of inner defenses that would give any mind mage pause.
No one had ever felt like this to him inside, as if she had turned herself to stone. That momentary,
intimate connection that had awakened between their minds at the feast truly defied explanation.
Lio should not be surprised Cassia guarded herself so thoroughly, despite her lack of training in
resistance techniques. Strength of Will was the one recourse the untaught mind had against magical
intrusion.
Whatever had prompted her confident assertion about the nature of his Queens just now, she was
burying all traces of it within her. Lio knew right then he had come too close to something Cassia
never shared with anyone. Something that made her feel vulnerable.
“Hesperines care about children,” she stated. “That is what I wished to speak to you about tonight.
Specifically, a question of medicine.”
The revelation jolted Lio back from the ramparts of Cassia’s mind and heart. Dare he think he was
about to find out the reason for her interest in his people? Could she have been asking him questions
on a child’s behalf all along?
He had speculated endlessly as to why she had approached him that first night, but he still had no
theory that satisfied him. He could only wonder, for he knew if he attempted to press Cassia for what
she kept to herself, he would only risk driving her secrets deeper—or driving her away.
At one point, he had hazarded a guess she had a friend or loved one whose suffering had inspired
her to ask whether his people might provide the Mercy. He had finally deemed that unlikely, for it
seemed she held no one dear except Knight. Now Lio wondered if he had been wrong to dismiss the
idea after all.
“I will provide whatever answers I can,” he promised. “I regret I have limited expertise in
healing.”
“I don’t need the assistance of a healer, but rather, a diplomat.”
If she was trying to approach a difficult matter, he had best do what he could to put her at ease. He
smiled. “Then you are certainly in luck. I am at your service, although I am but an—”
“Initiate ambassador. Even better, for a full ambassador’s price would be higher.”
“I haven’t heard the favor yet,” he said lightly. “I may raise my price.”
“No...for this I think you will offer me yet another boon, out of the goodness of your heart.”
“What is the matter, Cassia?” he asked gently. “For whom are you so concerned?”
“My question regards the concerns of another. The Prisma at the Temple of Kyria has just informed
me in the strictest confidence about an outbreak of frost fever.”
Not the reason she had first sought him out, then, nor a personal crisis. An impending crisis that
might affect them all. “Hespera’s Mercy.”
“You must understand, Tenebrans live in fear of this illness.”
“It’s infamous to us, as well. It is dangerous enough to adult humans, but if a child catches it...”
Cassia searched his gaze. “I have seen less concern on the faces of fathers told they’ve lost a new
babe to the fever.”
“I saw a father die on the temple steps trying to protect his children from me. I do not claim to
know how he felt. But any time frost fever strikes, it is a grievous time for Hesperines. That illness
casts suffering children into the world like nothing else, and there are so many we cannot save.”
“Take heart, for it is far away yet, in villages to the east.”
“The eastern Tenebrae?” Lio asked urgently.
“Word from there does not travel swiftly or reliably. I only give the rumor credence because the
mages of Kyria take the threat seriously.”
“Then we certainly ought to, as well.”
“No one else must know there is genuine cause for fear. The mages are not to breathe a word about
it outside the temple. However, the Prisma told me in order to ask a favor.” Now Cassia waved a
seemingly dismissive hand. “One I am hardly in a position to grant, as she should know.”
“There is some way I can help?”
“You can tell me if there are any healing herbs among the gifts your embassy has offered the king
and whether he intends to accept them.”
“We did offer a great many medicinal plants, including rimelace, the only effective treatment for
the fever.” Lio swallowed. “The king refused.”
“Of course. He will refuse anything that might be imbued with malign magic.”
Lio shook his head. “Lucis may not have faith in our good intentions, but he knows we are not so
foolish or obvious as to attempt to do harm through a gift we offer him before the entire Council.”
“But he cannot afford the terror that would spread among those ignorant enough to believe so. His
subjects’ fear of Hesperine magic has already caused him enough trouble.”
“I am so sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” She huffed a sigh. “It cannot be helped. I will tell the mages of Kyria
they must make what preparations they can with whatever they have.”
“Don’t they cultivate rimelace in the temple?”
“For all the magic they plied to get it to grow, the last crop failed. The weather here is traitorous.”
Cassia gazed down the deer path that slowly but surely led them back toward Solorum. “I have heard
tell that in the Magelands, the Order of Kyria knows spells that can make well-nigh anything grow
inside their wards. And they say the goddess’s fourteen children by Anthros, the Twice-Seven Scions,
empower their mages to cage the wind and make rain fall upward. But such stories don’t make
rimelace grow in Tenebra.”
“It thrives in the ice and snow in Orthros. I regret that does not make it grow in Tenebra, either.”
“Foolish peasants,” Cassia spat. “Their own suspicions will be the death of their children.”
At the harshness of her tone, Lio took a step aside. “They are hardly more than children
themselves. They don’t know any better.”
“They do not wish to learn.” She let out a bark of laughter. “How convenient for the king.”
Lio had felt her fear, her mistrust, and her anger. But the bitterness welling out of her tonight was
more than he had bargained for, a sour taint inside her. They had both seen the man who had
sacrificed himself in the bull’s place on the temple steps. She had witnessed—and endured—more
than her fair share of the king’s abuses. How could she feel no sympathy for Lucis’s subjects? How
could she be so quick to ridicule them?
“How would you try to change their minds?” Lio asked.
“They do not listen to bastards.” She said it without a hint of concern. Just as quickly as it had
slipped, her mask of indifference was in place again. But she had already shown him what lay
beneath.
“If they did, what would you say?”
“The king’s daughter has no opinion on the Summit.”
“Cassia, you care a great deal about what suffering may come.”
“We would all do well to care, before the fever arrives at our own doors.”
Someone worried about her own door, he suspected, did not seek out heretics in the middle of the
night to help the Kyrian mages. “Did the king’s household lose many during the last epidemic?”
As they passed the ruin again, Cassia held her skirts, picking her way through the rubble on the
path. “He takes himself and anyone he requires to survive to one of his distant, self-sufficient estates.
The royal healer is a mage of Akesios, the third scion, and highly qualified to be locked in the palace.
When the peasants stop dying outside the walls, the king emerges again.”
“I dearly hope you would be safe within those walls as well.” On her other side, Lio levitated to
avoid the debris and keep up with her.
“Apparently I qualify as more useful to him still breathing, so yes, he sequesters me on such
occasions.”
“So if an epidemic comes, it will not be at your door. Whose door, then, is the cause of your
worry?”
“I do not pretend the body count beyond the fortress does not affect us all.”
“Lady Cassia, it sounds a great deal as if you’re concerned for the common good.”
She snorted. “There is a difference between acknowledging reality and waxing poetic about the
common good.”
“Acknowledging that everyone in your kingdom is interdependent sounds to me like an expression
of appreciation for each person’s value.”
“That some of us in Tenebra are less callous than the king is no great distinction. I wish there still
to be a temple where I can garden and mages willing to let me in. That is all.”
“You are fond of spending time with them.”
“Gardening for Kyria is an expedient way to reassure the king I am not engaging in any activities
of which he would disapprove.”
“If you had been at the Summit, you could have learned for yourself what gifts were accepted, so
you could easily tell your friends at the temple.”
She gave him a flat look that said his point was moot.
“Have you been able to follow the proceedings at all?” he pressed.
“I said I don’t have an opinion, not that I don’t pay attention.”
“Despite how rumors spread, not a great deal escapes the mage ward, I suspect. Very little news
must reach you.”
“If I waited for news to reach me, I would be dead by now.”
Lio winced. “Do you know anything about what has transpired, then, besides the king’s refusal of
our medicines?”
“Everyone ought to know the terms of the original Equinox Oath. Hesperines shall have the right to
children who have been exposed, abandoned, or orphaned without anyone to take them in. Hesperines
shall have the right to the dying whose own kind give them no succor and to the dead whose kin and
comrades fail to collect their remains. Hesperines shall be permitted to exercise any power on
convicted criminals or miscreants acting in clear violation of the law to the detriment of honest
people.”
“Yes, those are the protections the Oath once afforded us.”
“As for what the truce forbade you to do... Hesperines shall not take to them children who are still
under the care of their elders—regardless of those elders’ treatment of the children, I might add.
Hesperines shall not disturb the dying who await mortal aid or the dead whose kin or comrades are
coming to claim them. Hesperines shall not set foot in temples, orphanages, or places of burial.
Hesperines shall not, under any circumstances, intervene in conflicts between the Mage Orders, the
Council of Free Lords, the King of Tenebra or his enemies, or in any way attempt to influence
worship or politics in Tenebra.”
“Activities in which we have never intended to engage, I assure you.”
“So long as your people hold to these terms, you may traverse all lands under the rule of the King
of Tenebra without fear of persecution. Should you in any way violate this Oath, then you forfeit the
king’s protection from mages, warriors, and any subjects of Tenebra seeking to exact...‘justice.’
Finally, each king, upon his accession to the throne, is to reconvene the Summit and reaffirm this Oath
with the appointed representatives of the Queens of Orthros.”
“You are well informed about Orthros and Tenebra’s past accord, I see.”
“Anyone who is not a fool pays attention to how the past affects the present. King Lucis invites you
to the first Equinox Summit in hundreds of years, making grand pronouncements about renewing the
age-old Oath the Mage King established. Once you are here, he sits and watches the free lords insult
and denounce you. The hate Lord Severinus’s mage incited early on set the tone for the entire
Summit.”
“So you did know about that.”
“The Council is doing everything in their power to refuse you your traditional right to children
without families. Lord Nonus’s remarks made it clear the free lords believe you disregard the
distinction between abandoned children and those under the care of parents or guardians. He as much
as accused you of kidnapping.”
Lio listened, and a smile crept over his face despite the grim truth of her words.
“It is telling,” she went on, “you have gained little ground regarding the Mercy, either. The terms
the king has presented to you appear simply to reaffirm human burial rites, but in doing so they
preclude your ministrations to the fallen. Once again it was the free lords’ protests that shut down the
discussion, conveniently making the king appear blameless. He might as well drive you from the
kingdom, at this rate, but he will not, of course. He will welcome you with open arms and let the free
lords tie your hands.”
Lio did not interrupt her, eager to hear what further conclusions she would draw.
“At best,” she predicted, “the current situation will go on. Your people will continue to conceal
your activities here and act in the same gray area that has persisted ever since the Oath’s lapse. At
worst, Tenebra will use the unsuccessful Summit as an excuse to retaliate and attempt to expel you
from the kingdom without appearing to have initiated the conflict. I need not say what we all fear,
what your people have surely feared since you came. This may well come to war.”
Lio grinned down at her. “Why did you need me to tell you about the medicines?”
“I am seeing you tonight and the Prisma in the morning. It will not be until tomorrow afternoon that
Free Lord Varinius’s best knight, who was present with his liege to hear the king’s decision on the
embassy’s gifts, will see his saddler to gossip about it. The saddler’s younger brother works in the
kennels and alternates with another man to deliver Knight’s food. I am unsure when the saddler’s
brother will next arrive, and I would prefer not to take action to ensure the other man doesn’t come. A
bite from Knight takes a long time to heal. The fellow might feel inclined to give my hound the worst
cuts of meat from then on.”
“What don’t you know, Cassia?”
“I ask myself that every morning and ensure I have an answer by sundown. If I did any differently, I
would not have survived this long.”
“I suspect someone who knows so much also does a great deal with her knowledge.”
“My influence extends about as far as my own skin. Aside from that, I garden and exercise Knight.
I weave, if I must. That is all.”
“Never a desire to extend your influence farther than that?”
“Oh, no. I am too fond of my skin.” She paused by the Font of the Changing Queen, glancing at the
sky, then turned to leave the clearing. “One who looks too far ahead fails to watch one’s back.”
“Cassia.” Lio halted by the fountain, searching for the right words.
She stood stiffly on the other side of the basin from him, poised to leave.
He could never tell her what an immediate and personal impact her news had on him. Early
knowledge of the frost fever epidemic would be a boon to someone who mattered so much to him. But
that was not his secret to reveal. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you telling me this. You
have my gratitude.”
Her face was as still and carved as the fountain itself.
“Allow me to explain.” Lio rounded the Font, then sat on the edge of the basin to put himself on her
eye level. “I am not merely saying thank you. Hesperines mean something more than that when we say
you have our gratitude. Those words are an acknowledgment of a bond of gratitude. We say them to
show we appreciate the true value of a generous and selfless gift, which warrants a gift in return.”
Her expression now changed ever so slightly. If he watched long enough, would he see the statue
ease back to life and turn into a woman?
Lio placed a hand on his heart. “Rest assured, my people will do everything in our power to
mitigate what is to come. For my part, I will make the most of any opportunity I have to change the
king’s decision about the rimelace.”
“I know.”
Before he could see what expression was taking shape on her face, she turned and led Knight back
toward the palace.
Lio opened his mouth to stay her, but he stopped himself. She had read the color of the sky
correctly. Time was of the essence. He must deliver her forewarning to his people—without
implicating his oracle.