“Evumeimei’s power is not with green things,” Luvo said from his spot of observation near Briar.
Briar started to explain how he could keep the plants growing as Evvy watched and harvested. Rosethorn hurried down the hall, searching for Dokyi.
“I did understand correctly?” she asked the First Dedicate when she found him. “Barley is the most popular grain crop in Gyongxe?”
“It is the hardiest of the grains,” he said. “Others do not fare as well. Why do you ask?”
“I know a way to replace some of the grain that’s been lost to Weishu’s army.”
Dokyi’s face lit. “That would be an incredible blessing to our people if you can manage it. Do you need anything from me?”
She nodded and began to explain. The First Dedicate listened to her idea, thought it over, and led her to a storeroom. He helped her carry a number of flat, shallow planting boxes back to the workroom, and appointed two strong young novices to haul in more sacks of earth.
She set out a row of the planting boxes and dug her hands into a bag of soil, feeling better than she had in days. This was what she needed to do, not killing. Not seeing visions. Moreover, the strength she still held after her stewardship of the Four Treasures surged forward as she worked, pouring into the dark earth in the boxes and the barley seed that she scattered over it. Of course the Treasures would lend themselves to crops.
She had to grip that power to keep her new plants a simple two feet in height. As it was, a quarter of them was heavy with seed. Swiftly she harvested and planted it all for a new crop. She remembered to teach them only to grow under an open sky when their farmers gave them a particular word. It would do no one any good if the new crop grew only to be trampled by armies again.
She also arranged her magic so the plants would grow to maturity in the field in four weeks. With luck, even if the war ran another couple of months, the people of Gyongxe would still be able to gather at least one crop, perhaps two, from these plants.
Dokyi brought their midday meal. He remained to help Briar, Evvy, and Rosethorn as they packed the seed that was ready to plant and sprouted more. Luvo had gotten bored and wandered off. Jimut and Riverdancer, who came by in the midafternoon, told them he was replacing entire walls by humming at the debris in the street until it rose and packed itself in place where the walls had been.
“He offered to teach some dedicates to do it, but they could not sing so low,” Jimut said with a grin.
“I don’t think this city is going to recover from Luvo’s visit any time soon,” Rosethorn observed. She looked at her hands and grimaced. Barley plants and constant hand digging had not been kind to her skin.
“I think it confuses him,” Evvy says. “Not all the temples, but why so many people would want to live in such a small place.”
Since the God-King had invited them to supper that night, they bathed in the temple’s newly repaired bathing room and dressed in clean garments for the evening.
Luvo joined them at the God-King’s table, as did Parahan, Souda, Sayrugo, and the First Dedicates of the Fire, Air, Water, and Earth temples of the First Circle. Rosethorn had feared that with so many adults present, Evvy might go quiet or find an excuse to leave. She had not reckoned on the girl’s friendship with the God-King. He was even able to startle a laugh out of Evvy. The other First Dedicates, who might have been stiff in such an unconventional group, relaxed considerably when Dokyi told them about the work they had been able to do toward proper barley harvests, war or no. Rosethorn was delighted to see Briar grin at them when he saw how happy they were. He, too, needed something better than combat to take away from his time here.
They had finished their meal and were simply lazing when a Gyongxin man in gold-trimmed armor and one of Sayrugo’s soldiers came to see them. Both communicated in whispers, the gold-trimmed man with the God-King. They left as soon as they had delivered their messages. The God-King and Sayrugo frowned as the others continued to talk.
Finally the God-King looked at his companions and smiled, though it was a smaller smile than usual. “There’s no reason not to tell you. General Norbu at the Lake of Birds reports that his scouts to the northwest are late to return, that’s all.”
Sayrugo said, “As are mine to the east.”
“We have been preparing for a fresh attack,” the God-King said. “The emperor will not catch us unawares. I think we should get a proper night’s sleep.”
Evvy stood. “We should all stay here in Gyongxe. Me, Rosethorn, and Briar. Till it’s over. Till he’s beaten.” She turned and fled the room.
Rosethorn took a breath. Evvy’s courage hurt her heart. “Wait a moment, Briar, Luvo. Don’t let her think we’re chasing her,” she said.
When Parahan spoke, his voice was cracking. “I wish I had the bravery of that little girl.”
Souda rose. “We will find such bravery for our own, or not, God-King, but we will fight for you. You will never regret taking us in.”
The boy looked up at her. “Make no mistake, Princess, Prince, it was the gods of Gyongxe who wanted you here.” He looked closely at each of them, and then at Rosethorn and Briar. “All of you. I am grateful, don’t think I am not, but the gods brought you here for a reason. It may take a long time or a short one, but sooner or later the gods of this land always have their way.”
When Briar and Rosethorn returned to their room, Evvy had brewed a pot of calming tea and was drinking some. She poured out cups for them. One corner of the room was crowded with the products of their day’s work: kegs upon kegs containing one or two thorn balls each, ready for the catapult, and bags of barley seed, ready to sow. Briar was thinking of burying some thorn balls in choice places before the gate as a way to welcome the imperial army when he felt the overwhelming need to sleep. Evvy and Rosethorn were already abed. Rosethorn’s light snore sounded from the other side of the barrier that gave them all privacy.
He could barely keep his eyes open. “Luvo, do you sleep?”
“Not as you do,” he heard the rock creature say. “Were I to sleep, it would be for centuries, and I would be reluctant to wake.”
“Oh. I s’pose this is different.” Briar had a jaw-splitting yawn overtake him. He curled up in his blanket. “G’night, Luvo.”
He didn’t hear Luvo’s reply. He slept deeply.
The big cats of the Temple of the Tigers nudged Briar, holding him up as the priestess’s cub tried to nibble his hair. He saw Discipline Cottage, his home. Lark was throwing his belongings out into the dirt. Rosethorn and Evvy floated downriver among other bodies, their eyes missing. Briar struggled to wake up, but he couldn’t. The emperor’s young mage, Jia Jui, stood in the air, a glowing set of beads in her hands. Briar fell, landing in a field full of the dead. Sandry, Tris, and Daja were standing on its edge, but when he pleaded for them to help him find Rosethorn and Evvy, they turned and walked away.
No matter how he struggled to wake, the nightmares went on and on. He called up dream plants and wove them into screens to shut out the view of ugly things, but they withered in his hands or collapsed when he held them up.
Just as he thought he might go mad, a rude hand poked his shoulder. A real rude hand. A voice shouted, “Wake up! No tricks! You’re a prisoner of our glorious emperor, and if you try anything, we’ll cut the girl or the woman!” The same rude hand pulled him from his bed onto the floor.
23
THE GOD-KING’S PALACE
GARMASHING, CAPITAL OF GYONGXE