Valdemarans just aren’t used to seeing that much magic, Delia thought. Much less something as powerful and uncanny as animating a cloth doll.
Which makes me wonder how they are going to react when hundreds of those things start showing up.
Well, it wasn’t as if they were threatening in any way. And they certainly could be helpful. They wouldn’t need to eat or sleep, and at the very least, they could probably serve as night guards, which would free up a lot of people to work in the daytime. Of course, eventually they’d have to be freed of their imprisoning bodies, because Kordas had promised that, but until the mages figured out how to do that, they would be awfully helpful.
As she stared off after Isla, who seemed merely to be heading for a spot that was still near the Gate—after all, she had to get back to Valdemar to continue the charade of her “affair” with Hakkon—Koto spoke behind her, making her jump.
“Some things you just have to let go, and leave to chance,” he said.
“Yes, but—” she began.
“The people we are leaving behind are either those who are completely out of the Plan because we cannot trust them, or people who know what they are getting themselves into, because they have been repeatedly told,” Koto continued.
“Yes, but—”
“They are responsible for their own actions, too,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but—”
“Would you relieve everyone of consequences?”
She saw she was going to get nowhere, and just shook her head.
“Do what you can, do everything that you can, do it to the best of your ability, and leave the rest to fate. Or the gods. Or random luck. Your choice,” he advised. “By the time you get to be my age, you’ve learned to let a lot go.” He linked arms with her. “Let’s go back to the manor. There’s still a lot to do there, and it’s only two days to the Regatta.”
* * *
—
When Star entered his room, Kordas could tell that the Doll was agitated. How he could tell that, he was not sure; maybe he was becoming more sensitive to the Dolls—maybe that accident had shaken something loose in his mind. But it was very clear to him, at least, that Star badly wanted to talk about something, but was keeping the Valdemar badge on its hand covered.
“The Emperor has decreed a Blind Feast for tomorrow, at the midday meal,” said Star. “After which, the Emperor will issue decrees, then mount his chariot to watch as much of the rest of the Regatta as he cares to.”
“If he’s not there in person,” Kordas asked carefully, “who is? And what is a Blind Feast?”
At this point he had already guessed that the Emperor would be present at the Regatta until he got bored—and he had the idea that the Emperor got bored rather easily. Of course, he could be wrong. But he didn’t think he was.
Nevertheless, he also knew that there were clerks—clerks which were probably Dolls now—that were counting every single boat, and woe betide those who were supposed to come and didn’t show up. He knew for a fact that the Emperor had humans checking over those tallies, and watching for anyone who didn’t come prove their loyalty in his boat-parade. They’d better have good reasons, like being dead, or having the boat sink on the way there.
“The Emperor has a proxy,” Star said. “It’s a statue of himself. He can see through its eyes and hear through its ears. He generally does so, from the comfort of the Palace, because he very much enjoys a spectacle that is meant to glorify him. And a Blind Feast . . . is a meal that is a kind of test. You are fitted with a helmet that will only permit you to look down at your plate, and nowhere else. You are led into the Dining Hall by your Doll, and seated. You cannot see who you are with. The helmets are removed, at intervals, in reverse of rank, starting with Kings, if there are any there. There are no Kings here presently, only Princes.”
So you need to be very careful what you say, because you don’t know who you’ll be seated with. Another version of the Game. You needed to make entertaining conversation, but you had better not misjudge your audience.
Well, he had a way to be entertaining, all right. All he had to do was continue his laments about Isla.
Or maybe I should just rant about Hakkon.
Or perhaps, just perhaps, a new tune. Perhaps he should rant about how Hakkon had betrayed him. Maybe show some paranoia and wonder aloud if Hakkon planned to hire an assassin to kill him, so that he could take over as Duke.
Yes, I think that will do. It certainly would feed into things they themselves might be wondering about . . . if there is someone back home who is plotting to replace them.
“So just another hideous meal to get through,” he sighed, and looked out the window again.
The tower trembled, reminding him once again of the Child Below, and the terrifying Elementals that were searching for it.
“Will you be going down to dinner?” Star asked.
“No. I have no reason to. What is there down there for me? Just another meal I can’t eat, and people who can give me no advice.”
Tomorrow is the Regatta. And I still have no idea how I am going to keep my people who are left behind safe. Or how to free that poor Earth Elemental.
“This one will bring you and your companion food,” Star said; he glanced over at the Doll and saw that it was still covering its hand. Interesting. Why would they be scrying him now? And why for so long?
Maybe the mage assigned to me is just a sadist.
He sighed again, deciding that moping was probably the least entertaining thing he could do. Star waited to see if he would say anything else, then left quietly.
I’m so tired.
No, “tired” wasn’t the right word. He was exhausted, worn thin by all the things he had to do and the new things that kept piling up on him. It was almost as if he had been told to climb a high mountain alone, had gotten to the top, then discovered that it wasn’t the top after all, but merely a ledge on the way to the top, and there was more mountain above that. And more above that. And more above that.
And now it was too late to go anywhere but further up, because an avalanche had fallen behind him, and he couldn’t return.
Well, I could. But the result of that would be very bad.
And then suddenly, an idea did occur to him.
What if I don’t leave during the Regatta?
What if I stay here?
If he stayed, the disappearance of the Dolls, the dissidents, and the hostages wouldn’t be linked to him—and thus, to Valdemar. The Dolls would, in theory, still be beholden to obey the Emperor even at the refuge, but it would be a moot point once they were outside the reach of the Empire, shielded from receiving any orders.