nodded, unable to speak. Telling him about my magical abilities, I thought, would only get me killed faster.
“Trusting is hard. Knowing who to trust, even harder,” Valek said.
“And my track record has been rather horrendous. A weakness of mine.”
“No, a strength. Look at Ari and Janco. They appointed themselves your protectors long before I assigned them. All because you stood up for them to the Commander, when their own Captain wouldn’t. Think about what you have right now before you give me an answer. You have gained the Commander’s and Maren’s respect, and Ari’s and Janco’s loyalty.”
“What have I earned from you, Valek? Loyalty? Respect? Trust?”
“You have my attention. But give me what I want, and you can have everything.”
The next morning, the Generals prepared to leave. It took four hours for eight retinues to assemble. Four hours of noise and confusion. When everyone had finally passed through the outer gates, it seemed that the castle breathed a sigh of relief. In the wake of this sudden release of tension, servants and guards milled about. They grouped together in small clumps, taking a break before cleaning the eight guest suites. It was during this lull in activity that the Commander informed the rest of the castle staff that the Sitian delegation was scheduled to arrive the next day. His words struck like lightning. A flash of stunned silence was followed by a frenzy of activity as servants dashed off to make the proper preparations.
Although happy to see the backs of Mogkan and Brazell, I wandered listlessly about the castle. I hadn’t given Valek his answer. To live, I had to go south, but without the antidote, I wouldn’t survive. Dread filled my heart as the reality of my inevitable fate filled my mind.
The next day, my presence was required at the special greeting ceremony for the arriving southern delegation. Apprehension about seeing the Sitians unsettled my stomach. I felt as if someone were saying, “Yelena, take a good look at what you can’t have.”
Since the throne room had been converted into an office, the only place in the castle suitable for state affairs was the Commander’s war room. Once again, Valek stood stiffly in his dress uniform on the Commander’s right side, while I waited behind them.
My apprehension turned to awe as I felt the waves of nervous energy pulsing from the high-ranking officials and advisers selected to be a part of the ceremony. When the delegation was announced and invited to enter, I moved to get a better view.
The Sitians floated into the room. Their long, brightly colored, exotic robes draped to the floor, covering their feet. Wearing animal masks trimmed with bright plumes of feathers and fur, they stopped before the Commander and fanned out into a V-shape.
Their leader, wearing a hawk’s face, spoke in formal tones. “We bring you greetings and salutations from your southern neighbors. We hope this meeting will bring our two lands closer together. To show our commitment to this endeavor, we have come prepared to reveal ourselves to you.” The speaker and the four companions removed their masks in one rehearsed movement.
I blinked several times in astonishment, hoping that during the seconds of darkness everything would be set right. Unfortunately, my world had just mutated from bad to wretched. Valek glanced at me with a resigned look as if he, too, couldn’t believe this new turn of events.
The Sitian leader was Irys. A master-level magician stood a mere three feet before Commander Ambrose.
26
“IXIA WELCOMES YOU TO OUR land, and hopes to make a fresh start,” the Commander announced to the southern delegation.
As I waited behind the Commander, I wondered what would happen to the Sitians once Valek informed the Commander that Irys was a magician. Contemplating the mischief she might create before leaving the castle, I tried to envision a best-case scenario. I failed, realizing this was probably only the beginning of the end.
Valek watched thoughtfully as the southerners and the Commander exchanged more formal statements. I guessed from Valek’s demeanor that Irys had not used her magic. After the official greeting ceremony concluded, the delegation was guided to their quarters to rest from their journey and to await the evening’s feast. Protocol decreed that pleasantries and entertainment preceded hard-core negotiations.
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