“They do indeed,” Aunt Lissa said. “Quite large ones, if my memory serves me right.” I turned to her hopefully, but she waved a hand. “No, dearest. I can’t say I’ve been there personally, but I’ve known my share of servants who’ve worked at the palace throughout the years. They’ve mentioned it. There’s an entrance from the kitchen garden on the west side, but the whole thing’s gated.”
My heart sank, then rose again at a sudden thought. Unless . . .
I shoved back my chair and ran to the window. The sash went up easily, sending a stiff breeze through the kitchen. Clouds hid the moon now, transforming Uncle’s garden into masses of shadow. If ever you had to eavesdrop, let it be tonight.
“Tobble?”
There was a rustle from the ivy near my elbow. “Whatever Gregory says I did, I didn’t!”
I swept up my friend and hugged him tightly. “I was afraid you’d gone.”
He gave a little grunt of surprise but returned my embrace with a pat on the arm. I set him down on the sill and sat back so the others could see him. He waved cheerily to my uncle and aunt, only to freeze at the sight of Silverwing, who dipped his head in greeting. Tobble responded by sticking out his tongue.
“Really?” I whispered in Low Gnomic.
“You brought him, not me!” he said.
I put two fingers on his little shoulders and turned him to face me. His grin fell away when he saw my expression. “Tobble, listen. Silverwing is our friend, and right now we need all the friends we can get. Something terrible is happening and we need your help. How much have you heard?”
He looked guilty. “Well . . . most of it. Er, all of it.”
“Good. Can the garden-folk get into the palace cellars?”
He brightened. “It’s not for nothing that a group of hobgoblins is called an inconvenience, you know! We can get anywhere.”
Brysney leapt up and strode over to the windowsill. “How far does the local Underburrow extend, Master Tobble?”
“Anywhere the city is,” he said in Arlean. “Garden-folk here hardly had to do any of their own digging. You big-folk did most of it for us. We’ve got tunnels and cellars, sewers and passages all the way down to the sea!”
“We just need to get into the palace without being seen,” I said. “Can you spread word on the Underburrow? Tell them what’s going on, what we need?”
“Of course!”
“How quickly?”
Tobble straightened and saluted. “Give me an hour and you’ll have all the garden-folk of Edonarle on your side. You can count on me!” He leapt down from the sill and vanished.
Fresh peals from bells of the Tower of Nan drowned out the rustle of leaves. Aunt Lissa murmured something under her breath as Uncle Gregory and Brysney moved to the door and peered out, Brysney’s hand on his sword hilt.
I felt a cool touch on my hand and nearly yelped before I saw Tobble again, leaning on the edge of the window with a concerned expression, so very different from his usual mischievousness. “Aliza,” he said softly, “is your dragonrider really in danger?”
The tears came burning to my eyes, but I willed them away. “Aye.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll bring him back to you.”
With that he was gone.
“What is it?” Anjey asked the men at the door.
“Hard to tell,” Brysney said. “There’s a glow over the First Circle. Looks brighter than before, but—”
“Oh gods,” Uncle Gregory breathed. “The House of Beeches. They’ve set it on fire!”
Anjey drew in a sharp breath and Julienna swore. Edonarle’s houses of healing, dedicated to Janna, now blazed with the Elementar’s borrowed wrath. Uncle Gregory signed himself and touched the beech-leaf sigil hanging over the lintel before closing the door.
Silverwing hooted softly and spoke, for the first time since I’d met him, in Arlean. “Our time is shorter than we feared. Rest and arm yourselves, my friends, and gather your strength. I will find Herreki and the others and tell them what you intend.”
Brysney touched his forehead to his wyvern’s snout. “Thank you, my friend.”
“Glad hearts and good hunting, Cedric, and gods go with you.” Silverwing murmured the standard of Family Brysney and made his way to the door, which Uncle Gregory opened for him with a passable Vernish farewell.
Brysney rubbed his forehead as he watched Silverwing disappear into the smoky night.
“They’ll be all right,” Julienna said and gently pulled the door shut. “Now, what weapons do we have?”
Anjey and Brysney unslung their sword-belts and laid them on the table, followed by a dagger each from sheaths strapped to their calves. At the sight Uncle Gregory gave a little exclamation and hurried out of the kitchen, returning a minute later with a dusty crossbow and a quiver full of iron-tipped quarrels. “Never had to use it, and thankful for that,” he said, laying it carefully on the table. “But I thought it’d be wise to have on hand.”
We all murmured our thanks. I eyed the offerings, ranging the odds in my head. Two full Riders, one Rider-in-training, one wyvern, an inconvenience of hobgoblins, and a nakla who can’t stand the sight of blood, armed with two longswords, three short swords, two daggers, and a crossbow. Us against all the forces of an ancient, elemental evil, hungry for the lifeblood of its enemies, teeth sharpened on six hundred years’ hate.
I studied the faces around the table. Brysney, grim but not despairing. This was not the first battle he’d faced where victory was slim. But this slim? Anjey, chewing her lip as she considered the weapons before her, clearly torn between her sword and the crossbow. She ran one finger over the sleek walnut stock with a smile. If there was fear behind that smile, she hid it well. Julienna shared all of Brysney’s grimness, but there was none of his hope. Her face was lined in a way that belied her sixteen years, and her movements as she tested the weight of her twin swords, while smooth and practiced, were heavy.
Aunt Lissa must have noticed it too. “Master Brysney, your wyvern was right,” she said. “You’ve only a little time before Tobble returns, and you need to rest while you can. Our home is yours. Gregory, fetch the extra quilts from the closet, will you?” She took Julienna’s arm in a very motherly fashion. “Come, dear. And Anjey, you too. There’s a couch through here.”
Either from exhaustion or because she had no power left to resist, Julienna set the sword down and went with her. After squeezing my hand, Anjey followed, and Brysney after her. The curtains fluttered out over the empty table. It was darker outside; the clouds had thickened and the breeze off the water was stiff and cold, promising rain before the night’s end. I leaned forward and shut the window, but the chill of the wind lingered on my lips. I stuffed the oakstone box into my pocket, ducked into the pantry, and slipped out through the garden door.
Dead leaves rustled underfoot and bare branches scratched at the sky, now flickering red and orange over the highest point of the city. I willed myself not to look up, to search the silhouettes of towers for some sign that Alastair and the others had retaken the palace and that we would be going, not as rescuers, but as reinforcements. I did anyway. Black against the Tower of Torches, a winged shape circled, tearing at the stone with ineffectual claws each time she rounded the tower. Akarra was too far away for me to hear the anguish in her roar, but I didn’t need to. I felt it in my bones. I turned away.