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“You should have a larger guard, too. Grannia, assemble a guard of six hundred. Have them form up in the front courtyard at once.”

Grannia saluted and hurried away.

As Tobin turned to go, however, she caught sight of two familiar, blood-grimed figures approaching out of the haze of the palace gardens. It was Lynx and Una.

“There you are!” Una called out. Walking up to Tobin, she looked closely at her, then looked away blushing. “Lynx tried to tell me, but I couldn’t imagine—”

“I’m sorry,” said Tobin, and meant it. The neck of Una’s tunic was open and Tobin saw she still wore the golden sword pendant she’d made for her. “There was no way to tell you before. I never meant to lead you on.”

Una managed a stiff smile. “I know. I just—Well, never mind.”

“So this is the girl who caused all that uproar with the king?” said Tharin, holding his hand out to her. “It’s good to see you again, Lady Una.”

“It’s Rider Una, now,” she told him proudly. “Tobin and Ki did manage to make a warrior of me, after all.” She paused and looked at the smoke rising from the far end of the Old Palace. “You haven’t heard any word of my family, have you?”

“No,” said Tobin. “Did you come up to look for them?”

Una nodded.

“Good luck, then. And Una? I need more people for my guard. Ask Ahra if she’d be willing, when you go back, and I’ll speak to Jorvai.”

“I will. And thank you.” Una hurried off toward the smoke.

“What happened to you, Lynx?” Ki demanded.

“Nothing,” the other squire replied dully. “After we got separated last night I ended up with Ahra’s riders outside the gates.”

“I’m glad to have you back. I was afraid we’d lost you,” Tobin told him.

Lynx acknowledged this with a nod. “We burned the Harriers’ headquarters.”

“That’s a good night’s work!” Ki exclaimed. “Were any of them in it at the time?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he replied. “We killed all the grey-backs we could find, but the wizards were already gone. Ahra and her people found their money chests and let out the last of the prisoners, then put the place to the torch.”

“Good riddance,” said Ki, as they strode on to the Old Palace.

The corridors and chambers of their former home echoed with the wails of the wounded—cries for help, for water, for death. Tobin and the others had to pick their way carefully so as not to step on them, they lay so thick on the floors. Some rested on mattresses or pallets made of clothing or faded tapestries. Others lay on the bare floor.

An elderly drysian in stained robes knelt before Tobin. “You’re the one the Lightbearer’s priests promised, aren’t you?”

“Yes, old mother, I am,” Tobin replied. The woman’s hands were as bloodstained as her own, she saw, but from healing rather than killing. Suddenly Tobin wanted very much to wash. “The fires may spread. All those who can be moved would be better off outside the city. I’ll have wagons sent.”

“Bless you, Majesty!” the woman said, and hurried off.

“You can’t escape the title,” Ki noted.

“No, but Korin’s already claimed it.”

As they entered the Companions’ wing someone among the wounded called her name. She followed the weak voice and found Nikides lying on a filthy pallet near the messroom door. He’d been stripped to his trousers and his left side was bound with stained rags. His face was white, and his breath came in short, painful gasps.

“Tobin … Is it really you?”

“Nik! I thought we’d lost you.” Tobin knelt and held her water bottle to his cracked lips. “Yes, it’s me. Ki’s here, too, and Lynx.”

Nikides peered up at her for a moment, then closed his eyes. “By the Light, it’s true. We thought old Fox Beard was lying for sure, but look at you! I’d never have guessed …”

She set the bottle aside and clasped his cold hand between hers. “I’m less changed than you think. But how are you? When were you hurt?”

“Korin ordered us …” He paused, gasping. “I was with them as far as the gate, but then we ran into a great …” He broke off again, then whispered, “I never was much of a warrior, was I?”

“You’re alive. That’s all that matters,” Ki said, kneeling to cradle his friend’s head. “Where are Lutha and the others?”

“He and Barieus brought me … I haven’t seen them since. Went with Korin, I expect. He’s gone.”

“We heard,” Tobin told him.

Nikides scowled. “That was Niryn’s doing. Kept at him …” He drew another shuddering breath and grimaced. “Grandfather’s dead. Caught in the New Palace when it burned.” His grip on her hand tightened. “I’m sorry he didn’t live to see … Are you really a girl?” Spots of color rose in his white cheeks. “Really, I mean?”

“Near as I can tell. Now what about you. Can you be moved?”

Nik nodded. “I took an arrow, but it went through clean. The drysians claim I’ll heal.”

“Of course you will. Ki, help me move him to our old room for now.”

The sheets and hangings were gone, but the bed was still usable. They put Nikides on it, and Tharin went for water.

“Prince Tobin?” a soft voice quavered from the shadows of the old dressing room. Baldus peered fearfully around the doorframe, then ran to her and threw himself into her arms, sobbing.

She ran her hands over him but found no sign of a wound. “It’s all right now,” she said, patting him awkwardly. “It’s over. We won.”

Baldus caught a hitching breath and turned his tear-stained face up to her. “Molay—he told me to hide. We let the hawks free and hid your jewels, and then he put me in the big clothes chest and told me not to come out until he came back for me. But he didn’t. No one came. And then I heard you … Where can Molay be?”

“He must have gone to help fight. But it’s over now, so he’ll be back soon,” she said, though she didn’t have much hope of that. “Here, have a drink from my bottle. Good, take it all. You must be thirsty after hiding for so long. You can go look for Molay among the wounded, if you like. As soon as you find him or anyone else we know, come and tell me.”

Baldus wiped his face and squared his shoulders. “Yes, my prince. I’m so glad you’re back safe!”

Ki shook his head as the boy ran off. “He didn’t even notice.”

The sound of a familiar voice woke Iya.

“Iya? Iya, can you hear me?”

Opening her eyes, she saw Arkoniel kneeling over her. It was daylight. She ached all over and was chilled to the bone, but it seemed she was still alive.

With his help she sat up and found herself by the side of the road not far from where they’d stormed the gates the night before. Someone had pulled her from the ditch and wrapped her in cloaks. Saruel and Dylias sat beside her, and she could see more wizards nearby, smiling at her in obvious relief.

“Good morning,” Arkoniel said, but his smile was forced.

“What happened?” There was no sign of the enemy; Skalan soldiers guarded the gate, and people seemed to be coming and going unchallenged.

“What happened?” Saruel laughed. “Well, we were successful, but nearly killed you in the process.”

You shall not enter.

Why did Brother’s words come back to haunt her now? She’d survived. “Tobin? Is she—?”

“Jorvai was by earlier and said she came through with a whole skin again. He’s convinced she’s divinely protected, and from the sound of it, he must be right.”

Iya stood up gingerly. She was sore, but seemed to be whole, otherwise.

A mounted herald came through the gate and galloped down the road, shouting, “Go to the Old Palace throne room. All Skalans are summoned to the Old Palace throne room.”

Dylias took her arm, smiling broadly. “Come, my dear. Your young queen summons us!”

“Never were sweeter words spoken.” She laughed, and all her aches and pains seemed to fall away. “Come, my battered Third Orëska. Let us present ourselves.”