Cold Steel

43

The sleet icing down over us could not cool my gloating smile. Now Drake would know who was stronger! Yes, he was a savagely powerful fire mage, but he lacked the wisdom and discipline that made a mage like Queen Anacaona so formidable.

Fiery Shemesh! I had completely forgotten about the head.

“Rory! Where is the cacica’s skull? I left it with you!”

“Don’t snap at me! I hid the basket and your satchel in the prickly branches of that felled pine. No one will find it, I assure you.”

When I applied to the general he shook his head. “I’ll escort you back to Red Mount myself, once we have settled this matter of the Romans. Two of the legions have dug themselves in for the night. If they prove recalcitrant, I shall need you to slip into their camp and kill their commanders.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Cat? Is this too much for you?” He bent his head, examining me. “While you slept, I received word that a number of mages escaped into Lutetia. You know I want your husband’s cooperation. Help me now, and I will help you find him. Furthermore, I’ve heard no word of James, which as you may imagine concerns me.”

“I think he’s decided he doesn’t need you anymore,” I said, goading him.

Rather than reply he withdrew a pipe from his coat, considered its damp bowl, and tucked it back into the pocket. A messenger rode up with a dispatch, pulling his attention away from me. At length, as we rode about a mile south, the icy rain slackened and ceased. We came up to one of the Iberian infantry divisions, which had boxed in the two battered legions against the river.

At the general’s arrival a cheer rose. Captain Tira marched up with a squadron of Amazons. Dirty, bloodied, exhausted, they danced forward to the pound of drums and the singing of their sisters. Luce her very own self presented a Roman eagle to the general. Her pride blazed. She had a bloodied nose, a cut on her left shoulder, and mud smeared in her short cropped hair as if she had wrestled an enemy onto the ground. I could scarcely recognize the girl who had befriended me with a cheerful grin at Aunty’s boardinghouse. Then she saw me, and she laughed to see me and Rory still alive, but she did not break ranks to come to us. She had chosen her path. It no longer marched alongside ours.

The general made his way through the troops, greeting men, giving a private word to the worst-wounded. I trailed behind him, trying to wipe flakes of dried blood and the cling of weariness from my eyes. Because I was not paying attention, I scarcely noticed when Camjiata rode out onto the vacant ground between the two armies.

The two legions had anchored their defense on an old fortified estate very like that of Red Mount. This compound backed up against the Sicauna River. The walls and buildings had taken damage from artillery fire, but the legionnaires were tough, experienced men who had set up an effective perimeter. The general rode right into range and then closer yet. I was so astounded by his audacity that I followed, together with a pair of aides in braided uniforms and tricorn hats.

The general surveyed the night-shadowed Romans and a lit lamp. “Brothers! I salute you! You have fought nobly this day for the honor of the empire that gave birth to you. That empire gave birth to me as well, for my mother was born into the Aemilius clan. By the courage and valor with which you have fought I am brought to wonder what incompetent commanders have led you to this pass. For it is certain that now, shed of them, you find yourselves driven into a corner not of your making. Have your consuls done well by you? Were you not abandoned by the best of your legates, Amadou Barry? Let me tell you what you do not know. The emperor envied and feared Amadou Barry, so he rid himself of the man. He will deny it! But you will never find Amadou Barry’s body.”

Camjiata was no djeli, but he was doing a cursed beguiling job weaving a story that tugged at hearts and loins and drew the world in fresh colors for men worn out by battle.

“How do you know what happened to Amadou Barry?” I demanded in a low voice.

“I have never managed to insinuate a spy into a mage House, but getting informers into the household of Lord Marius was not difficult. Every word I spoke is true. The emperor sent Amadou Barry to Adurnam because he feared the young legate’s popularity in Rome.”

Noble Ba’al! That put a different smell on the rose!

The legate whose wine I had poured walked boldly out to confront the general. I pulled just enough shadow around me that he couldn’t be bothered to notice me any more than the general’s aides. “What do you want, General Keita? Our surrender? The Invictus do not surrender. Nor do our Ironclad brothers. Our honor forbids it.”

Every word Camjiata spoke was pitched to carry as far as possible. “Of course I don’t want your surrender. Your soldier’s honor shines as brightly as ever. Yet Rome’s honor has been tarnished in recent generations. You know it.”

Soldiers murmured. They did know it.

“Selfish patricians long ago repudiated the ideals of the old republic. In recent years they have likewise turned hostile backs to the new river of change that beckons. I will restore Rome to the glory and influence that she deserves.”

“You’re an Iberian. Rome has always been your enemy.”

“It is true that on my father’s side I am of Iberian princely descent and also the son of the sons of the emperors of old Mali. But through my mother’s blood I have a claim to Rome. Why should old enemies not become today’s allies? What can Romans and Iberians not do, if they work together under strong leadership? Will you join me? The old emperor is weak. But I am not.”

The legate considered the general’s offer and, naturally, grasped for the promise of glory.

He raised an arm in salute. “Camjiata!”

Behind echoed first a ragged cheer, rising with each successive wave until its tide swept the legions. “For Rome!”

The general accepted their approbation with an unsmiling seriousness appropriate for the auspicious occasion.

“Bastard,” I muttered appreciatively. “Is this what you hoped for all along? To raise the Roman legions to fight for you as consuls used to do in the days of the old empire?”

“Rome has always been mine,” he said. “That is my destiny. You will not be the one to take it from me, Cat.”

“As long as Rome doesn’t bother me, I won’t bother Rome,” I retorted, and he smiled.

I waited as he conferred with the legions’ officers.

Then we rode the two miles or so back to Lutetia. Soldiers lit our way with lanterns as we drew up before a huge barricade that closed the Liyonum Gate into the city. Lanterns and torches blazed. Thousands of people stood on the walls and roofs, for it seemed half the citizenry of Lutetia had come to face the victor.

A young woman stood on a table, flanked by a blacksmith in guild robes and a djeli with blond hair swept up in lime-whitened spikes and gold earrings gleaming in the flame of the candle lantern he held. Half hidden among the crowd waited Brennan and Kehinde. Weaponry scavenged from the field was being hauled into the city.

Camjiata rode forward. His carelessly bold manner gave him a commanding presence. I alone followed. Bee marked me with a dark look that scolded me. Then, having dispensed with me, she pulled the shawl on her shoulder up over her hair and opened her arms in a matronly manner that mimicked the festival tableau called “Dame Fortuna Welcomes the Victors.”

“The good citizens of Lutetia have given me leave to speak on their behalf, out of respect for the Lady of the River whose voice runs all through the city.” Her voice had such resonance that, although she did not seem to be shouting, the sound carried deep into the evening. “We offer our thanks here today to you, General Camjiata. You have fought your battle outside our walls. In your wisdom you leave us to fight our battles inside them. This barricade we built from the furniture and pavilions of the prince’s palace, which we have torn down as the first act of raising an assembly to rule in the place of a prince. We will follow the example of our brothers and sisters in the city of Expedition on the island of Kiskeya across the Atlantic Ocean and devise a means to rule ourselves. Your offering at the altar of our radical enterprise we accept gratefully.”

“What offering is that?” he said, with a smile whose contours I could not interpret. Was he angry? Amused? Making ready to launch an attack into the city with his victory-soaked troops?

“You have generously shared your legal code as a model for the one that will be written here! Copies have been printed across Europa and now circulate on the streets of Lutetia.”

“I am aware of the strenuous efforts of printers. May I not stand on the steps of the prince’s palace and declaim the code? I did so twenty-two years ago on those very steps, only to have the law driven out by the hounds of greed who are ever whipped forward by princes and mages.”

Bee smiled bounteously. “The people of Lutetia are grateful for your efforts. We think you have done enough.”

“And wishful to see the backs of me and my army, is that what you are saying, Beatrice? Is this what you have seen in your dreams, that I will turn away when I and my army have won the victory that allows the citizens of Lutetia to overthrow their hated prince?”

She opened her hands, palms up. “Is this how you interpret my remarks, General? Can we ever see the truth when desire blinds us? Or do we call it truth because it is what we wish to see? If you try to enter the city, the citizens of Lutetia will resist. What you do now is up to you.”

Judging by the crease of his forehead and the blade of his narrowed eyes, General Camjiata was not well pleased to be told to go fishing or go hang by a ragtag assembly of disorganized civilians whom his soldiers could easily crush. That the young woman he had groomed as his protégé had absconded to speak for them could not sit well either. But his was not a lightning temperament; he could swallow his temper and consider all the implications before he acted.

I muttered, “You would have done better to marry Bee when you had the chance, General.”

He murmured in reply. “Well, Cat, so I see you have cherished a cunning plan deep against your heart all this time. I admit, I am impressed. I did not expect this.”

He leaned forward, one hand on the reins and the other on his sword’s hilt. At his back his soldiers shifted their arms. When victorious men see resistance from the defeated, they can become mean and impatient.

“I do have one question for the citizens of Lutetia. I have a report that cold mages were allowed to enter the city.”

“The old mansa of Two Gourds House is dead, my lord general,” said Bee. “The elders of the Assembly deemed it proper for his people to return him to his mage House so offerings can be made and songs sung over his body.”

“It was not just one old man’s corpse, but a whole troop of living ones. When folk claim to have rebelled against the old order, and yet assist the cold mages who have for so long worked hand in glove with the princes and lords to oppress them, I wonder if they are still only puppets acting in the service of my enemies.”

“Do you think to bully us, General? Do you mean to stand ankle-deep in the blood of our men and women while you proclaim a legal code meant to bring justice and peace? If that is the war you intend to fight, then know you can kill us but never truly defeat us.” Her voice dropped to a more intimate tone. “You know what manner of person I am, General. Do not make an enemy of me. We can still be allies.”

He tipped back the edge of his tricornered hat as in mocking salute. “I see you learned from the Expeditioners how to take advantage of a conflict between two greater swords to allow the small knife its killing thrust. This has truly been a piece of drama worthy of you, Beatrice.”

“My thanks,” she replied with a mockingly pretty courtesy.

He raised his voice. “Citizens of Lutetia, let those of you who can hear my words repeat them to the many too far away to hear. Remember that I am a man who listens. When your revolution discovers itself in internal strife, as it inevitably will, you need only send a messenger. I shall be pleased to help you settle your city in a more orderly fashion. But on this night, obedient to your request, we will withdraw.”

“What about Andevai?” I demanded as he reined his horse around. Grabbing his reins, I tugged him to a halt.

He raised a hand dismissively. “Why, Cat, I am marching on Rome to make her into what she ought to be. The offer we discussed remains open.”

“You said you would help me find him!”

“I expect I am not the only one looking for your cold mage.” As horns sounded the call for an orderly march, he bent close. “Drake is yours, Cat. I commend him to you. If you can find him, for I expect he has already left the field.”

“Noble Ba’al! You goaded Drake to this point, didn’t you? You used him and now you’re discarding him. That’s why you never stopped Drake and me from all our fighting in public. You plan to blame Drake’s death on me, as my personal vengeance. His fire mages will turn their loyalty to you, never guessing you schemed his downfall all along.”

“Surely you guessed I never trusted James Drake. As for you, Cat, I give loyalty where I receive it in return. You have made it clear your loyalties lie elsewhere.”

I held his gaze with my own. “I could run you through right now.”

He leaned so close I could have kissed his cheek as I might have my own father’s. “But you won’t. Not today.”

He eased the reins out of my grip and rode away into the embrace of his army and his imperial dream.

I dismounted and ran forward as Bee hopped down off the table.

“Dearest!” she exclaimed, grabbing my hands. “I was so worried about you and Rory. Are you coming back now?”

I crushed her against me out of relief, but also so I could speak directly into her ear. “Was Vai one of the mages who fled into the city?”

“No. I’m sorry, Cat. I spoke myself to the mansa of Four Moons House, who was carried in among the wounded. He was with the Romans but got through the lines. He is very bitter about losing Andevai, for there was a strutting and unpleasant young mage with him who seemed unsuitably pleased that Andevai has gone missing. Then a young mansa named Viridor claimed that after the storm, Andevai rode away to find Lord Marius. It’s all so confused. Dearest… oh, Cat.”

“He’s still alive,” I said stubbornly.

“We’ll find him.”

As Camjiata’s army withdrew to set up camp, men and women armed with muskets, axes, and looted swords settled in to guard the barricades through the night. Brennan and Kehinde shook my hand, and Rory’s, too, for after all, they had spent a lot more time with Rory even than I had.

“Brennan and I will remain for another month at least,” said Kehinde. “We’ll be assisting the locals as they draw up a charter for the governance of Lutetia. You can find us if you need us.”

“May Fortune smile on you in your search,” added Brennan.

Bee led the way with a lantern. We ventured through the shattered remains of the grand encampment that days ago had been the scene of so much life. A scorched vendor’s cart lay tipped over, wheels broken. A dog nosed through the ashy remains of rounds of cheese. The shine of my candle’s flame surprised a scurry of rats swarming a corpse, burrowing in through eyes and mouth. Thin children knelt beside a soldier, tugging a ring and a watch from the body.

Lights rose and fell as might tiny fire boats atop waves, marking the paths of men and women who also searched. We discovered a half-conscious man with a crushed foot and torn scalp. This nameless soldier Rory and I hauled awkwardly between us as he slipped in and out of awareness, calling for his mother. He was a Lutetian, no taller than me, and very young. I could not bear to leave him, and I was grateful when we found an old man driving a cart with wounded men in it bound for Red Mount. We sat on the tailgate and bumped along, helping the man gather in more wounded until the wagon was full.

On the Cena Road, men with lanterns were pulling corpses off the road to allow traffic through. Bee tied her shawl over her mouth and nose. “Doesn’t the stench trouble you, Cat?”

“I don’t have the leisure to be troubled.” I hopped off the wagon and hailed an older man with an avuncular face. “What happened here, Uncle?”

“The Tarrant lord Marius and his troop made their last stand, is what happened. Too bad, for he fought well.”

“Is the lord dead?”

“How should I know, lass? I heard he was chopped to pieces, and I heard he was wounded and carried off by the Iberians. This is no place for lasses on a night when men are drunk with blood and victory.”

“I’m looking for my husband.”

He sighed. “May the Three Mothers aid you in your search, then. Good fortune.”

As he trudged away, I called after the wagon. “Rory! Bee! Bring the lantern. We’ll know a cold mage is close if the flame dies.”

“I can’t smell anyone in this nasty stench,” muttered Rory as he handed the lantern to Bee. “But maybe I can find him by his clothes.”

“Blessed Tanit! How many dead there are!” Yet Bee gamely brandished the wrought-iron candle lantern over corpses laid in neat ranks like firewood. “Wouldn’t it be easier to go to the manor house and find the cacica?”

A hundred paces away, soldiers were searching through a roadside ditch. “Ah! Curse it! The cursed sword bit me!”

“Here, stand aside, you prickless worm. Let me—Ah! Curse it! It burns!”

With drawn sword I ran to their lamps. “What have you there? Let me see.”

“Oo! What pretty girl assaults us…?”

I bared my teeth at their insolent grimaces. Something in my demeanor made the men retreat. The sword lay grimed by dirt, but I knew it as Vai’s cold steel instantly. I snatched it up with my right hand. Such a black tide of wild anger swept me that for a moment I went blind.

Rory shouldered up beside us. “Cat, best we move out of here before there is trouble.”

“I’ll cause trouble,” I said, taking a step toward the men that made them hurry away.

Bee and Rory pulled me back and led me along the drive to Red Mount. Wounded men lay on the gravel of the two courtyards, packed like fish in a barrel. The awful stink blended with their cries and groans. Surgeons and healers worked by lamplight, assisted by soldiers and by elderly women bringing water for the injured. Mostly men just lay there, awaiting some distant hour when an exhausted doctor would finally take a quick glance at them.

“Cat, what about the cacica?” Bee repeated. “I tried to say this before, but you don’t listen. If you can talk to her in a mirror, perhaps she can see the well of Andevai’s power and lead you to him.”

Blessed Tanit! Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I swayed, leaning on Bee. “Rory, go and fetch our things. We’ll meet by the well. Bee, you look through the sheds. I’m going to see if I can find Lord Marius. I give this sword into your hand, Bee, into your hand only, until we find Vai again.”

Holding her breath she touched the hilt with a finger. When it did not spark or sting, she slipped it out of my hand. “Cold steel! Does this mean I need only draw blood to kill?”

“No. Only if you are a cold mage. But no weapon will shatter this one.”

She tested its balance, then both she and Rory hurried off.

With shadows drawn tight around me, I crept into the stone house to see if I could find Lord Marius. He was still alive, lying on a couch in a sitting room with eight wounded officers. To my surprise Marshal Aualos was seated in a chair beside the couch, joking with Lord Marius as they shared a bottle of whiskey. Lord Marius’s color was sallow, and his eyes glazed with pain, but he could still laugh as the Iberian officer told a lewd story about a man who had mistaken his wife for a sheep. Lord Marius’s left arm had been mangled into a pulp.

Doctor Asante and her attendants entered. She spared only a glance for Marius’s arm before she examined the other wounded officers. “Your arm will have to come off, Lord Marius. Marshal, please leave. I prefer to do my work without an audience.” As the marshal and his aides left, she examined each man. “This one is dead. Take him out. Those two I cannot help and this one…”

Lord Marius had not the strength to heave himself up on his good arm but he watched her with a keen gaze. “Doctor, is there nothing you can do for my aide, young Butu? He’s not sixteen. My cousin’s son.”

“My apologies, Lord Marius, but his belly has been opened. I have no way to heal such an injury. However, with some luck and a little cooperation, you may recover.”

“But never fight again.”

“Men battle with their minds far more than with swords. Do you mean to retreat to your country estate and never again involve yourself in politics?”

“Are you an Amazon, Doctor? Why else would a woman walk the battlefield?”

“I was an Amazon for many years, but now I am chief of the general’s medical corps.”

“He has placed a woman in charge?”

“I am a woman,” she agreed with the raised eyebrows of a person who has heard the comment once too often to be amused by the necessity of explaining one more time. “I also am a doctor. If you have some objection to my expertise, I can send another person to tend to you.”

“No, no.” He chuckled although it hurt him. “I am sure you will treat me as tenderly as would my mother, were she still with us. The folk in our villages would come to her for lotions and compresses and such healing craft. I do not fear your touch. I am just surprised by the presence of women in the army. Women give life. It is not their place in the world to kill.”

“Only to be killed? I do not like the sound of that conundrum, my lord. So I will ask you this: Does the she-wolf not hunt the same as her mate?” She spoke the words while staring straight at me, then crossed the room to the hearth where I stood out of the way. Setting her bag on a table, she pretended to look through it while speaking in a whisper. “What creature are you, that carries a spirit blade and waits in the shadows?”

“You’re a fire mage,” I breathed. “Only trolls and fire mages can see my sword when I’m hidden.”

“Sharp Diana! It is you, little cat!”

“Why do you call me that?”

“It is what Daniel called you after I had washed you and placed you yowling in his arms. Know this, Catherine. He loved you the moment he saw you. We all did.”

“What happened? Who are you?” I whispered. “What is your place in all this?”

She smiled affectionately, allowing me to glimpse pieces of a story Camjiata had never known and I had never suspected. “I loved your mother, and she loved me. But under the law you could only be claimed and protected by male guardianship, and we had to get Tara out of the prison quickly, for she was to be executed at dawn. Fortunately she loved Daniel also, and I trusted him. The general has promised me the new code will change the law so that women may stand equally in guardianship to men.”

For the space of several breaths I had no words. But at length I murmured what abruptly seemed clear. “After Camjiata’s defeat and capture, they were coming to find you, weren’t they? When they died.”

Truth is written in the face. Hers had measured suffering, others and her own, and she had kept walking to do the work she felt called to do even though she, too, had lost the ones she loved.

“Yet why are you here, child?” she asked gently. “I sense you are come in some desperation. You may always apply to me for aid, little cat.”

My heart beat so hard. “Some day, Doctor, I pray we will have time to speak at length. But right now I’m looking for my husband.”

She nodded. “The cold mage whom James Drake hates so very much.”

“Doctor! Why do you mumble? What am I seeing there, a sword and a shadow…” In his grievously wounded state, Lord Marius had slipped partway into the threads that bind the worlds. “Camulos’s Balls! It is Cat Barahal! Have you crept in to kill me? Is this what became of Amadou?”

Doctor Asante’s two assistants were busy preparing the table for the surgery. I unwrapped the shadows and crossed to kneel beside the couch. “I told you the truth about Amadou Barry.”

“He was ever a fool about that girl,” he murmured, eyes rolling back at a stab of pain.

The doctor said, “We need to operate.”

Desperate, I grasped Lord Marius’s uninjured hand. “Please. I’m looking for my husband. I heard he was last seen going to aid some cold mages seconded to your battalion.”

“Ah!” Was that a wince of physical agony, or had he seen a sight he dreaded to tell me of?

My heart pinched until I could not breathe and thought I might faint. “Tell me!”

“He never once drew his sword although I know cold steel in the hand of a cold mage need only draw blood to cut life from the body. His one concern was to kill fire, to save as many lives as he could. I think he must have spared twenty cold mages who would otherwise have been burned like torches by the enemy’s fire mages. He could have escaped into Lutetia, but he came after us because there were three young cold mages seconded to my troop, and he knew they would be killed or enslaved.” He winced. “He bore the brunt of magical attacks whose impact I could neither see nor understand. As we were surrounded and made our last stand, the truth is that he collapsed.”

A tear seared my cheek. “Dead?”

“He was never hit by any physical weapon. More like he collapsed from exhaustion.”

“Blessed Tanit!” I murmured. “Too much cold magic for too long with no rest.”

“Then I was wounded,” mumbled Lord Marius in a fevered recollection. “The red-haired fire mage took him. Threw his limp body over a horse and rode off with his company.”

My heart stopped.

“Where?” I cried.

“I did not see…” He passed out.

“If I do not amputate the arm, he will die.” Doctor Asante took my arm, then kissed me on the forehead, as a mother might. Finally she released me and turned to her patient.

In a daze I walked to the door. In the passageway I leaned against the wall. My legs had stopped working. Out of the sitting room issued the grinding scrape of a saw punctuated by the grunts and gasps of a man trying not to scream. Driven on as if lashed by a whip, I staggered back to the north courtyard and there sagged against the well in utter despair and confusion. Despite everything, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep.

Bee tugged me awake. “You can’t believe who I found.”

I bolted up. “Vai!”

“No. Juba!”

“Juba? Haübey!” The spark of hope dimmed, then flared. “Has Rory returned yet? What if he couldn’t find the basket?”

“Calm down, dearest.” She pressed her forehead against mine and bent her will to soothe my heart as her gaze pinned mine with bitter intensity. “Calm down.”

She led me into the barn. Rory was sitting in a quiet corner, holding the hand of a dying man. He smiled, indicating the basket and satchel at his side. Bee grabbed them and made me follow her farther in.

Haübey worked by lamplight in a stall carpeted with straw. An oil lamp held by a Taino soldier made a shimmering splendor of the trickling streams of blood oozing across the chest of a wounded man. With a precise stitch Haübey was sewing up a frightful gash that ran from the man’s shoulder to below his breastbone. Despite the urgency that nipped at my heels like wolves, I had the decency to wait.

The Taino prince Haübey, called Juba by Europans, resembled his brother Caonabo in every particular except that his black hair fell only to his shoulders rather than halfway down his back. His air of intensity sat in marked contrast to Caonabo’s reserved demeanor. Also, Haübey had a fresh scar over his right eye. I had forgotten he was a healer. Although not a fire mage like his brother, he had been trained in a behique’s knowledge even if he had not the full store of a behique’s power.

Bee’s gaze was fixed on Haübey as if judging where to aim her axe blow the best to split his head in two. “I haven’t shown myself to him yet. I felt no fear in confronting the general, yet I hesitate now.” Her fingers crushed my hand until I grunted in pain.

Finishing, he rose as he wiped blood off his hands. He nodded curtly, if absently, at me, then looked again. “The fire bane’s lost woman! I had heard you walked with the general.” His gaze tracked past me, and his eyes widened. “Beatrice!” He uttered her name so throbbingly that, had I not been heartless, exhausted, and desperately in search of my beloved, I should have blushed. “Why are you not in Sharagua with my brother?”

An incandescent anger transformed Bee’s lovely features. “Did you plot it between you?”

He wiped his bloody forehead with the back of a hand. “I do not understand you.”

“You understand me perfectly well. I have had a lot of time to think. Was Caonabo looking for a pretext to divorce me? One that all of you hoped would force me to return to Europa with the general? Would he have crafted some other reason for me to leave if this one had not come to hand? From the moment you discovered I walk the dreams of dragons, you’ve been plotting to use me, haven’t you? You, your brother, your mother, your uncle: all of you. I thought you were better, that you cherished dreamers, but the Taino court connives no differently from the rest. You want cold mages for whatever war is brewing between you and your rivals. If the general won—with my help, of course!—he agreed to dismantle the mage Houses and give you first pick of the captive cold mages, didn’t he?”

“First pick!” I exclaimed. “Was he intending all along to hand Vai over to you?”

Haübey took the lantern and dismissed his attendant, leaving us three alone with unconscious men. “You cannot think the Taino offer aid to the general in exchange for nothing?”

“He’s trading you cold mages in return for your support?” I repeated stupidly.

“Why do you think I came to Europa in the first place two years ago?” Haübey asked. “Your wars and rivalries do not interest us. I came at the behest of my uncle to learn about cold mages. Instead I saw people living in unpleasant squalor. Children suffer hunger while others throw away food they cannot eat and will not share. People die of diseases any decently trained behique could cure. The streets run with filth, and there is no decent night lighting. The food is awful. And it’s cold. But the music and drumming is good, and many of the women are beautiful.” His gaze lifted to capture Bee’s. He trembled as on the edge of a kiss.

She cut him with an angry frown. “Can it be that even to Caonabo I was nothing more than a tool to be used? Although I grant you that I was well handled and lovingly polished.”

Haübey closed his hands to fists, although I could not be sure if it was her accusations or her insinuation of the intimacies she had shared with Caonabo, ones he had been denied, that upset him. “You see only the shadows that churn the Great Smoke, dreamer. You do not know what thoughts trouble a man.”

Elsewhere a man groaned, begging for water. Rain began to fall with a steady drumming, and water dripped through the many scars in the burned roof to splash onto the wounded, who could not even cover themselves. In the stall next to us I heard Rory humming softly.

“Blessed Tanit!” Bee said. “How is it come to this, that I think only of my injured heart?”

I pulled the cacica’s skull out of the basket. Startled, Haübey took a step away.

“Your Highness, at the request of your uncle and your brother, I deliver your mother’s head to you. With this cemi, Prince Haübey, your kinsmen give you permission to return home. They want you back to lead the Taino army.”

He stared, looking first confounded and then pleased. “So I am answered!”

“Just one thing first.”

Digging into the satchel, I pulled out the sewing kit Vai had so thoughtfully given me. Of course it included a hand mirror, since I could not imagine that Vai could imagine existence without a mirror. I caught the skull in the reflection as I pulled the shadows around me. Haübey gasped gratifyingly when I vanished. Spun in my shadow, the skull shifted to the texture and weight of a living head and met my gaze in the mirror.

“Honored Cacica, my greetings,” I said.

“My greetings, Niece. You have returned me to my son.”

“So I have, honored one. As I promised.”

She blinked to show her approval. “Your debt is paid, even if I cannot approve how my brother went about getting his way. We maintain righteousness because we hold to the law.”

“The world changes,” muttered Haübey. “The old ways no longer protect us. My uncle understands that, even if you did not, honored mother.”

The cacica had not struck me as an impulsive, emotional woman, but judging by her glare, she and her impatient, headstrong son had more in common than I had thought. “Those who cast aside the law will wither like maize under drought. And so will the land!”

Haübey’s brooding expression was sharpened by lips pressed so tight I wondered he did not cut himself. “I have something to say about how you treated Caonabo all those years, favoring me and neglecting him! I always resented it! He will make a noble cacique, even if you never thought so!”

This was really too much! I broke in. “The cacica is a wise and perspicacious woman! Do not speak to her so disrespectfully.”

“How can Juba hear and speak to her when I cannot, except in the spirit world?” Bee asked.

The cacica turned her gaze from her son to me. “To the dreamer give my greetings, Niece. We who have ears can speak to our ancestors, that is why. A pity my brother connived with my sons to send her away. She was a proper influence. Yet what troubles you, Catherine Barahal? For I see a shadow in your heart.”

“I beg your pardon for my abrupt manner. James Drake has stolen my husband. Can you tell me in which direction they have gone?”

“When a rot grows within the crop, it must be cut out quickly before it spreads its taint. Let me see.” A thread spun away into the darkness of the mirror. She first whispered words that sounded like the drizzle of rain and the moan of wind, then spoke again in the language I could understand. “North they ride. Straight north.”

North. Drake was going to use Vai to sow terror and death through his Ordovici homeland. Dread opened a gash in me through which all my fears poured. But I remembered my manners.

“My thanks to you, honored queen,” I said, even if my voice shook. “Have you any other words you wish to say before I release you to your son?”

“Let my dead son know that I understand the tide has already washed this shore. What is done cannot be undone.”

“As I am reminded when I look on you, honored one,” I said politely.

“May the Good Great Spirit walk with you, Niece.”

“Taino-ti’, honored queen. May the Good Great Spirit walk with you.”

I lowered the mirror, tucked the skull into the basket, and offered it to Haübey. He took it gravely, but it was Bee he looked at.

“Come back with me, dreamer. You will live in a better place than this, honored among the Taino as a noblewoman. And if not for my sake, then for my brother’s. I happen to know he feels true affection for you although he is not a man to say so.”

“No.” Her hand clasped mine firmly, even if her voice trembled. “My home is with Cat.”

“We have to go,” I said. And so we did, gathering Rory as we left.

“Where are the cold mages being held prisoner?” I asked an orderly, who directed me to a sergeant, who informed me they were being held in custody at the rear hospital. It was too far away; we didn’t have time; we couldn’t save everyone.

We walked north along the Cena Road to Lutetia. Bee’s honey voice talked us through the barricade because they recognized her from her work with the radicals. How long ago it seemed that I had fled Two Gourds House and Vai had come to the inn looking for me. What if we had separated in anger, and had never spoken again?

“Cat, dearest, let me help you.” Bee steadied me as I stumbled.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bee.”

“I’ll always be with you, dearest.”

We reached the forecourt gates of Two Gourds House at daybreak. The compound was surrounded by armed citizenry, not hostile but definitely vigilant. In the forecourt mage troops stood guard. Their captain made us wait on the entry steps in the morning sun. The mansa of Four Moons House himself appeared with his djeli at his side and his repugnant nephew dogging his heels as if hoping for a scrap of meat. The mansa had sustained a gash on his chin. His left arm was in a sling. Yet he looked imposing in a formal indigo robe whose sleeves swept the ground as he strode down the forecourt steps and grasped my hand, speaking to me with his own voice.

“Catherine! Explain yourself!”

“I told you the village boy meant all along to betray us,” broke in the nephew, in a sour tone. “He is probably dining with General Camjiata right now.”

“People do not sit down to dinner in the morning,” I snapped.

“Silence, boy!” said the mansa to his nephew before turning to me. “Catherine, please disabuse yourself of any belief that I am angry at Andevai. He saved many lives yesterday. If the tide of fire magic grew too strong for one of the others, Andevai would pull it into himself by the craft he learned from the Taino. He risked more than anyone else.”

The nephew hunkered down as if enduring a rancid smell, his mouth shut for once.

“Was it Andevai’s storm that quenched the fire that would have burned the city?” I asked.

The mansa’s voice was hard, his manner impatient and proud. How like Vai he seemed, although I could not tell what emotions surged beneath the garment of his arrogance. “Andevai is not the only powerful cold mage. That was my storm, in concert with Mansa Viridor. But I must ask, was it all a ruse? Did you plan this victory with General Camjiata? I regret I could not recognize Andevai’s worth until it was too late to bring him to trust me.”

“You still don’t understand him, Mansa. He respects you more than he will ever express to you. He was able to look past the scorn and contempt he endured and admire your strength and consistency in your rule over Four Moons House. Not every mansa would have educated the village boy with the sons of the mage House. You didn’t do what you ought to have done to stop their cruel bullying, but you did not force him to stand at the end of the line when he had earned the right to stand at the head. That is why he fought for the mage House as well as for the sake of his village. And, I admit, for his own pride, which as we both know is as vast as the heavens. Will you help me get him back?”

His gaze no longer frightened me because I understood him better now: He was a man who saw the world purely through the lens of his birth and his House.

“Where do you think he is?”

“James Drake has deserted General Camjiata’s army and taken Vai prisoner. I believe Drake is going home to the Ordovici Confederation to get revenge on his family. Vai’s cold magic makes Vai a powerful catch-fire. Imagine how powerful he will make Drake’s fire magic.”

Bee took hold of my hand. “Do you really suppose Drake can defeat Andevai? Were I a betting woman, I would put my money on Andevai.”

“So would I, were it a duel between the two of them. But Drake has surely taken the most loyal of his fire mages with him to do his bidding. If I were Drake, I would have fire mages pouring backlash into Vai day and night to keep him incapacitated. Even Vai can’t fight all of them. And he’ll try to protect whatever other catch-fires Drake may have in his keeping.”

The mansa gestured toward his steward. “I am not willing to sit idly by while Four Moons House is insulted in this egregious manner! But we have only a handful of horses left in this compound and they are either wounded or broken down from being overworked yesterday. I am told that General Camjiata has taken every able-bodied horse off the field. And since we magisters are trapped here, the citizens of Lutetia have no doubt rounded up the rest.” He laughed in a manner that annoyed me. “There is your revolution for you. Trapped in our own House and yet not one word of thanks from the local citizens for the death and injury we took on ourselves that spared the city of Lutetia from being burned to the ground and ravaged. Rather, they treat us as if we are the ones who assaulted them and started this war!”

Bee glanced toward the compound gate. “I can negotiate with the citizens’ council…”

A full-length mirror hung opposite the main doors in the entry hall.

“I have a better idea,” I said. “But first, may we change out of these clothes and wash and eat something? Before we depart?”

Though in mourning, the residents of Two Gourds House treated us with every courtesy and were expeditious in bringing wash water and food. I did not inform them that I was the person who had killed their master. I didn’t want Bee to know. I almost wept when a steward brought me the spruce-green skirt and resewn cuirassier’s jacket, cleaned and ironed. I demanded provisions be brought. Back in the entrance hall the mansa and his attendants and soldiers had gotten into their riding clothes and uniforms, for they believed we would be traveling on horseback.

“If you will, Mansa, can you give me a tiny bit of cold magic?”

He raised an eyebrow interrogatively, but he obeyed with alacrity, plucking a spark of cold fire out of the air. My sword woke; I drew the blade into daylight. Folk did gasp and murmur, but the mansa frowned as he glanced toward the mirror and then back at me.

“Can you walk after him through the spirit world? Surely not, Catherine. You might vanish for weeks or months…” He trailed off.

In a silence weighted by every gaze following me, I approached the mirror. With so many cold mages in the entry hall, magic rippled in its depths. Rory’s reflection shifted back and forth from cat to man. Bee stared fixedly, her dreaming eye alight on her forehead. As for me, my own reflection glared back at me. Was this the face Andevai had seen and fallen in love with the day I had walked down the stairs and he up them to where we had first met on the landing? Hard to imagine! I looked as if I meant to bite someone.

I would find him! And I would make James Drake pay!

I nicked my skin to draw blood, its smear bright on the blade. I thrust my sword into the mirror, up to the hilt. The cold steel cut a gateway between the mortal world and the spirit world. I parted the lips of the gate as I might part a curtain. A murky night hid the spirit world from my eyes. But I still had my voice.

“Let those who are bound to me as kin come to my aid!”

An icy wind kissed my nose. Like distant thunder my sire’s voice laughed mockingly. A bee sting flamed as an ember on my hand, then faded. Wet noses prodded my arm and a rough tongue licked my face as the breath of cats warmed me. The creatures of the spirit world could not cross into the mortal world except on Hallows’ Night… or in my wake, as Rory had.

“May blessings bring quiet sleep and plump deer to you and yours, Aunt,” I said politely, “and let me assure you that your son is well and behaving himself as much as he can. But I seek my cousin eru and the one she travels with. If they will cross with me.”

An eerie arc of day broke over the land. In its wake rolled a coach and four. The coachman drove right for my outstretched arm, and I grabbed at the harness and flung myself backward to draw them with me.

The coach rolled into the entry hall as people shouted and scattered. It kept on through the open front doors and glided a hand’s span above the steps before settling to earth on the graveled forecourt. The horses stamped, a mist steaming off their pearlescent skin. The coachman tipped his hat to me. His blue eyes tightened with a smile that did not touch his lips. The footman jumped as lightly down from the back as if she had hidden wings. She flipped down the stairs and opened the door.

“What is your wish, Cousin?” the eru asked. In the eyes of everyone else she appeared as a man. Perhaps I just found her more comfortable to talk to as a woman.

“If you will convey us, I would be glad of it. Bee, Rory, get in.”

The eru swung the bags of provisions up onto the roof.

“What means this, that those who served us now serve you?” The mansa looked ready to ignite.

“They do not serve me, nor did they ever serve you,” I retorted. “But if you wish, Mansa, you can come with us. We could use a powerful cold mage.”

“So it has come to this,” he muttered. “I am being led by two girls.”

His irritation brought a smile to my lips for the first time in days. I made an elegant courtesy. “Yet you must admit, Mansa, that my dearest cousin Bee and I are two exceedingly fine young women, with quite unexpected depths.”

Only a man of his stature and birth could manage an expression that so purely combined a censorious frown shaded by a wrinkle of amusement at his eyes, for as much as he disapproved of my bold way of speaking, it was equally obvious a part of him found it appealing.

“That is one way to describe it, Catherine. We have not the leisure for me to explain the other. My predecessor could not have imagined that the bargain Four Moons House forced onto the Hassi Barahal clan sixteen years ago would lead to this peculiar end.”

But he wanted Vai back as much as I did, so he dismissed his djeli and gave orders to his nephew to follow with the surviving Four Moons soldiers and mages as soon as they could get horses. Then he got in.

The door was shut. The squinty gremlin eyes of the latch stared at me in what I thought might be surprise to find me back again. The coach jostled as the footman swung up onto the riding board in back. On the whip’s snap we rolled, on our way at last.