“An-Eskatha, you say? No, I’m afraid I don’t recognize the term.” There was a pregnant pause as he wavered over his next words. I could see them hanging on his lips, reeling back and forth like some dangerous fish. “And yet it does strike me that I’ve come across it before. Perhaps something from the Epic of Eldrunna or one of those other blasphemous Eldric epics. Honestly, Lady Daired, Quaternary was so long ago and my eyes aren’t what they used to be. It’s been a while since I read up on any theological lore. You think these creatures are behind the unrest across the kingdom?”
“One of them, at least, and it’s been recruiting allies from among our enemies for a while.”
“It would have to be something very powerful to rouse the sleeping lindworms.”
I glanced again at the writhing water. And to trouble a god. “That’s what I’m afraid of. It’s one reason we need your help. Lady Catriona hasn’t been able to secure an audience with the king to warn him about what’s coming.”
“She hasn’t? He won’t see Catriona? That’s . . . but that’s—”
“I know,” I said. “There may be someone making sure we can’t get through. We’re trying everything we can think of, but in the meantime, we need allies. You could help us. Lady Catriona says King Harrold will listen to you.”
The High Cantor passed a hand over his brow and heaved a sigh. “Well, yes, of course I will help you, but this troubles me greatly. Someone in the palace—”
A deep, reverberating sound shook the hall, echoing like the heartbeat of a giant. The High Cantor broke off sharply.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The Great Bell from the Tower of Nan,” he said. “Something’s amiss. The Great Bell does not ring common chimes.”
“My lord!” came Pennaret’s voice from the staircase, but the High Cantor was already heading for the gate as fast as his ancient legs would carry him.
I was nearly winded by the time we reached the topmost gate, but the High Cantor refused to stop for a rest. He charged down the gallery, sending acolytes and worshippers alike scurrying out of his way. Pennaret, Teo, and I followed. The peals of the Great Bell were louder now, the air trembling with their echoes.
“I don’t understand,” Pennaret whispered to me. “It’s not yet midday. They shouldn’t be ringing like this. They shouldn’t be ringing at all!”
Teo gripped his spear and moved closer to me. The vague sense of dread that had been hanging over me since we entered Hallowhall began to condense, focusing into a point of cold horror in the pit of my stomach as we reached the main nave.
The sanctuary was awash with confusion. Some people continued in their prayers, or tried to. Others had given up and were whispering among themselves or looking toward the bell tower in bewilderment. The cantors not trailing the huffing High Cantor attempted to reassure the congregants, with limited success.
Without warning, the bells stopped. The silence left in their wake was deafening, and my ears rang with it as we emerged from the Abbey into the high portico overlooking the Court of Four and beyond, the city and the sea. The knot of cantors behind us shaded their eyes to see the bell tower above and, just visible on the outer balustrade, the dark figure of the ringer. He or she waved frantically in the direction of the docks. I turned to look.
Riding high at the mouth of the harbor was a small fleet of ships, black against the bright blue of the water. A great golden sphinx rippled on their sails, mouth open as if to swallow all of Edonarle in one bite. My stomach dropped.
“Is that the Elsian ambassador, Lady Daired?” Teo whispered.
I started to nod, but the High Cantor shook his head, pointing to the pennants waving from the ropes on the foremost ship. They shimmered gold, silver, and bloodred in the sunlight.
“No, young man. An ambassador’s ship would not warrant the royal colors,” he said. “That is the ship of the Silent King.”
Chapter 18
Drums from the Deep Desert
As the echoes of the Great Bell died away, other bells took up the call, cascading from the highest point of the city to the lowest in a waterfall of welcome. A shadow fell over the portico and I looked up. Herreki’s red-gold scales shimmered in the sun as she swooped low over the Court of Four, heading for the docks. I caught Teo’s eye.
“We should get back.”
“And I will request an audience with the king immediately,” the High Cantor said.
“Thank you,” I said. “Send word to the Daired townhouse when you hear from him and we’ll join you at the palace.”
He touched his forehead, lips, and heart. “Fourfold blessings on you and yours, and may Mikla himself be a shield to your house.” He paused, then clasped my hand and added in an undertone, “The gods do not often deal in blind fortune, but perhaps this time they will grant a foolish old man’s prayer. Good luck, my lady.”
The streets were less crowded than they had been that morning, the few people we passed all hurrying in the general direction of the lower city, no doubt eager to witness the historic landfall in person. I wondered how many of them realized it was the Silent King they were going to see and not some petty ambassador, and if they did, whether it would make them more or less eager to get a good view. Why should it not? I reminded myself that few people outside of Family Daired suspected anything of the arrival beyond a colorful procession and perhaps a change in our trading policies. No one in our kingdom is ready for war. The corollary chilled me to the core. Including us.
The street outside the townhouse was empty of people, save for the old door warden still standing alert at his post, crossbow in hand. He received Teo back with a tacit nod and a hint of a smile that suggested, or I hoped suggested, that this tale would make it back to his father.
“Master Teo’s a natural guardsman, sir,” I said on impulse, and the warden grinned. Teo flushed a little as he took up his position on the other side of the door.
Steward Caldero met me in the front hall and informed me that the rest of the family was still out. My heart sank. Unsurprising given their respective tasks, but disheartening all the same. My head was full of thoughts I did not want to process alone.
I climbed the stairs to our chambers slowly, weighing out every possible course of action and cursing the poisonous seeds Wydrick and Tully had planted. It was true what Alastair had told the Vehryshi at An-Edannathair. The ghastradi had delivered their warnings to taunt us, to make us afraid, to mire us in indecision as we awaited an enemy we did not yet understand, and I wondered if all of this had been a wild pixie chase: hopeless and distracting from the true task at hand. I flung open the doors to the balcony overlooking the courtyard trying not to think about the fact that Family Daired was, at this moment, scattered throughout Edonarle. A divided force was a defeated one. I folded my arms tightly across my chest and faced the sea.
The city stretched beneath me in a maze of tiered streets and irregular spires, the haze of woodsmoke and rising dust the only thing that obscured the harbor from view. Slate-blue water churned white beneath the swell of the first ship, its silver, gold, and red pennants whipping back and forth. The rest of the ships followed at a safe distance. Only three, and even with my limited knowledge I could see that none of them were ships of war. A fraction of the weight lifted as the sight effaced a possibility I’d not allowed myself to admit aloud. No invasion, then.