Empire of Night (Age of Legends 2)

There was much still to be done, and the responsibility for organizing it fell to Tyrus. He could have abdicated it to the major counselor. The emperor would not expect his young son to handle a disaster of this magnitude. Yet Tyrus expected it of himself.

First, two warriors had to be dispatched to tell the emperor what had happened. Then Tyrus needed to interrogate Guin before planning their next move. While Moria assisted him with that, Ashyn went back into Fairview, to cast the proper rituals to put the spirits at rest.

Tyrus and Moria briefly asked Guin about her past, but she refused to speak of it, and it wasn't important. Whatever had happened to her in life, it had turned her into a spirit bent on revenge, wandering the world lost and confused, and likely causing trouble among the living. Now that she had a form, though, she was mortal again, and she understood that whoever had wronged her was no longer alive. She was no more danger to the group than any stranger.

About the children of Fairview, all Guin could say was that they'd been gathered and taken. As for the children of Edgewood, she'd seen their camp before the shadow stalkers came, while she was still wandering as a spirit. They would have moved by now, but the site might yield clues.

More important was what Guin had overheard as she'd flitted about. Alvar Kitsune planned to strike more border towns, amassing a larger army of the dead.

SEVENTEEN

Was it possible to grow accustomed to the sight of death? Ashyn thought it must be. If you were a healer or a midwife or a warrior, you would see so many lives pass that you would steel yourself against it, remind yourself that they'd gone to join the ancestors and were happy. That's what Ashyn tried to do as she put Fairview's spirits to rest. It didn't help. With each body, she saw a life lost, horribly and tragically, and the weight grew, like stones tied to her cloak.

"Is there anything I can do?" Simeon asked. He'd accompanied her, along with two guards. The warriors stayed back to give her room. Simeon hovered. While she could be annoyed with that, she took comfort in it, too.

"Turn the lantern up a little, please," she said. "The night grows dark."

He hesitated. "I thought perhaps, as long as you can see the way, there is no need to see more."

She smiled over at him. He was kind. Awkward and lacking in social graces, but kind and thoughtful. He had a blazing intelligence--that was a given, or he'd not have been apprenticed to the famed scholar Katsumoto--but he also had a way of understanding more beyond his books than she'd expected from their first encounter. She'd come to appreciate that and, perhaps, at times, to regret that there was no spark between them.

"I should bear witness," she said. "It is only respectful."

He turned up the lantern.

"But I appreciate the thought," she added.

He flushed and lowered his gaze. There might be no spark for her. But for him? Ashyn tried not to think of that. To presume a young man's feelings seemed like conceit. And if he did have such feelings and she did not? That felt unkind. Better to think she was misinterpreting. She'd certainly done it before.

She continued saying the ritual words, soothing the spirits. They deserved her full attention.

"Ashyn?"

Her sister's voice, accompanied by running footfalls. She smiled. Moria was here. That reassured and soothed her better than Simeon's anxious hovering or Ronan's silent vigil.

"Are you almost done?" Moria asked.

"Almost."

"They'll be starting the meeting soon," her sister said to Simeon. "You should join them. Give me the lantern, and I'll stay with Ashyn."

By the time they joined the meeting, it was rancorous enough that Ashyn found herself giving thanks they weren't all armed warriors, or there might have been more spirits for her to soothe. The counselors thought the next move was clear. They brought in their map, laid it out, pointed to the nearest border town, and said, "There."

"That's exactly where Alvar Kitsune would expect us to go," Tyrus said. "Which is why he will not be there. He will go there." Tyrus pointed to the next border town.

"While I mean no offense to the young prince," the major counselor said, "may I point out that I worked closely with the former marshal for many summers?"

"You may," Tyrus said. "But my father knew him best, and it is my father's insights I am relying on."

"The young prince is correct," the scholar Katsumoto said. "My study of the marshal's tactics suggests he would not choose the most obvious target. However, as well as the emperor knew the marshal, so, too, the marshal knew the emperor. He could foresee that we would know he'd not choose that town . . . and target it because we will not go there."

Tyrus groaned. "Or he could foresee that, too . . . and so target it anyway. We'll tie ourselves in knots if we follow this logic. What of the towns themselves? The geography, the defensibility, the number of guards . . ."

A fine idea, except neither town seemed the obvious choice. As they argued, Ashyn could see Tyrus growing more frustrated, Moria with him.

"There is no clear answer," Moria said finally. She paused, catching Ashyn's eye and dipping her gaze. "I mean no disrespect, your highness."

Tyrus passed her sister a tired but affectionate smile. "If I didn't want you speaking your mind, I'd have asked you to stay outside. Go on, my lady."