Chapter 399: A Place Beneath the Same Sky

Julian had begun arriving early for breakfast.

This might not have concerned anyone if he had arrived hungry. Instead, he inspected the table, selected a chair, changed his mind, and asked whether we expected everyone that morning.

On the third day, Cassia looked up from her tea.

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“An ambitious breakfast.”

He gave her a look that would once have started an argument. Now he merely straightened his cuffs.

Beside me, Adriana pressed her lips together.

The mystery resolved itself when Halric’s children entered.

Prince Tomas headed directly toward the bread. His sister, Princess Elowen, paused beside Julian’s chosen chair.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

“No.” Julian moved the chair so quickly that its legs caught the rug. “I mean, you can.”

“Thank you.”

Both were fourteen, both displaced from homes they could not yet return to, and both had discovered that the other could make an ordinary morning worth anticipating.

Elowen sat down.

Julian finally remembered that breakfast involved food.

He had grown close to both of Halric’s younger children since Caedren’s return.

Tomas enjoyed Julian’s river game, especially when he could persuade him to add rules permitting increasingly unlikely bridge collapses. Elowen preferred the little waterwheel Julian had been building with Garrick Valewood.

She asked questions that required Julian to fetch the wheel rather than simply describe it.

Then she asked questions that required a walk to see the larger one near the workshops.

By the end of the week, they had spent three afternoons together.

“Four,” Adriana corrected when I mentioned it.

“You have been counting?”

“I have been noticing my brother combing his hair twice.”

Evelyn smiled over the baby’s room drawings.

“Perhaps he has developed an interest in grooming.”

Adriana gave her a patient look.

From the courtyard below came Elowen’s laughter.

Julian’s answer followed, too quiet to distinguish, then another laugh.

For a moment, all three of us stopped talking and listened.

The messenger reached Greykeep before noon.

Eliza brought her into the council room still wearing a travel-stained cloak. One sleeve had been cut away from the elbow, and the clean bandage beneath it told me the gate healers had already intercepted her.

“Sergeant Neris,” Eliza said. “Eastern reconnaissance. She has reports from three separate patrols, including her own.”

Neris placed a battered dispatch case on the table.

“Surtr’s columns have changed, Your Majesty.”

Thor leaned forward.

“More dragons?”

“Those too. But we saw giants bringing siege equipment over the ridge roads. They carried pieces that would have needed ox teams.”

She spread a rough drawing beside the map.

A figure stood taller than a watchtower’s gate, one enormous hand closed around the axle of a dismantled engine.

“How many?” Eliza asked.

“Seven in our column. Other scouts saw at least four farther south. We cannot tell whether they belonged to the same force.”

Neris swallowed.

“The giants were the easiest part to count.”

There were vampires among the officers moving after sunset.

Werewolves ran ahead of the night columns, sometimes on two legs, sometimes four. One patrol had watched a man change beneath the trees before joining a hunting pack.

Behind them came the dead.

“Skeletons in old armor,” Neris said. “Some still carrying the shields of the towns they had defended. Zombies pulling carts. Others marching with the infantry.”

Mary’s pen stopped for half a breath before continuing.

“And liches,” the sergeant finished.

Caldris lifted his head.

“What did you see?”

“Two figures in robes beside the supply train. No living flesh on the nearer one’s face. It raised its staff when a cart overturned. The dead stopped together, cleared the road, and began moving again at the same instant.”

She drew a breath.

“Our mage identified the working. The second patrol reported another lich directing bodies into a river until the rest could cross over them.”

The room was very quiet.

Surtr had found soldiers who did not need food, sleep, or encouragement.

He was also making the people he murdered serve him afterward.

Aurelia stood beside the window with her hands clasped before her.

“Where are they going?”

Neris moved a marker away from the nearest city.

Into the forest.

“Here. And toward the high nesting cliffs. They have begun hunting the unicorn herds and the phoenix aeries.”

Aurethar’s expression hardened.

The sergeant took another page from the case.

“Griffins driven from two nesting grounds. A grove burned after its dryads sheltered people fleeing the road. We heard of winged horses being taken in nets, though none of our patrols witnessed that.”

“The unicorns?” Evelyn asked.

“One herd escaped an encirclement. Another fought to get its young across a stream. Our scouts saw the survivors.”

“Why those places?” I asked.

“They were sheltering refugees,” Neris said. “The unicorns had cleansed wells the army poisoned. The phoenixes were carrying warnings between settlements.”

Thor looked down at the map.

Surtr was attacking the places people ran toward after he destroyed their homes.

We questioned Neris until the shape of the threat became clearer, then sent her to eat and rest.

Eliza began adjusting the patrol orders before the door closed.

High walls would mean something different against giants. Night watches would need relief before exhaustion made them careless. Reports of an abandoned battlefield could no longer be treated as reports of an empty one.

Caldris requested every detail the scouts could remember about the liches’ commands.

“Do not assume breaking one staff ends an entire column,” he warned. “They may divide control. Some of the dead may retain instructions.”

“And the living allies?” Lexander asked.

Aurethar answered him.

“We have seen vampires and werewolves serving Surtr. That tells us whom those particular bands serve. It does not tell us that every hidden clan has joined him.”

I nodded toward Mary.

“Make that clear in the gate orders. We cannot invite frightened people here and then condemn them by resemblance to his soldiers.”

“It will be clear,” she said.

Thor rested one finger on the threatened forest.

“Meanwhile, these people need an answer before his next column arrives.”

The answer was already walking toward our gates.

Castellan spoke while we were still gathered around the map.

“Your Majesty, an escorted delegation has reached the eastern approach. Vaelith identifies them as representatives of the unicorn herds and phoenix aeries.”

Aurethar turned toward me.

“He found them.”

“You knew they were coming?”

“I knew he had gone to look.”

Outside, a clear note rang over the courtyard.

It was not a bell.

Everyone near the windows looked up.

A bird with a tail of copper and gold descended toward the open ground beyond the gate. Sunlight caught its wings, then remained there when a cloud crossed overhead.

Its fire cast no smoke.

I had seen dragons darken the sky.

I had not expected something smaller to make me forget the rest of it.

We received the delegation in the lower garden, where no one had to navigate a stairway or pretend that the council room had been designed for them.

The unicorn envoy came first.

Her coat held the pale gray of dawn beneath an almost white mane. A long, spiraled horn rose from her brow, and a healing wound marked one shoulder.

Two others accompanied her, one dark as rain-soaked slate, the other younger, with a mane tangled by travel.

Vaelith walked beside them in his human shape.

The phoenix settled on the broad stone edge of the empty fountain. Its talons clicked against the rim. A second bird, smaller and darker, perched nearby with one wing held stiffly.

“I am Aelune of the western herds,” the unicorn said.

Her voice was audible, low and clear. Several attendants looked startled before recovering themselves.

“And I am Serevan,” said the phoenix. “I speak for the aeries whose marks Vaelith carries.”

The dragon produced a packet bound with narrow cords and several small feathers.

“They asked me to bring them to you,” he said.

I bowed my head.

“You are welcome in Greykeep.”

We offered water first.

That proved to be the correct decision.

The younger unicorn drank for a long time while Aelune watched without comment. Evelyn knelt beside the fountain to examine the other phoenix’s injured wing after receiving permission.

Serevan’s fire dimmed slightly as he followed her movements.

“Your healer does not fear being burned.”

“Should she?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then she has judged correctly.”

His bright eyes returned to me.

I could not read a bird’s expression well enough to know whether that amused him.

Aelune lowered her head toward Aurelia.

“We have heard what you have made here. We have also heard of the pact between Greykeep and the dragons.”

“Mutual defense,” Vaelith said. “Shared warning, aid when attacked, and refuge where it can be given.”

“We would join it,” Aelune said.

Beside her, the phoenix lifted his head.

“So would we.”

Aelune told us about the stream crossing.

The werewolves had driven fleeing people toward the shallows, where the unicorns had gathered their young. Skeleton archers waited beyond the opposite bank. Giants came through the trees behind them, breaking a path wide enough for wagons.

“They knew we would not leave the people,” she said.

Her injured shoulder shifted beneath her mane.

“We broke through before their lines closed. Others could not.”

Serevan spoke of hooks mounted on long poles and cages lined with workings that smothered flame.

“They have learned something of us,” he said. “Enough to make carelessness costly.”

“Can Surtr kill a phoenix?” Thor asked.

The garden stilled.

“Rebirth is not invulnerability,” Serevan replied. “There are ways to imprison what should rise. Ways to scatter what must remain whole.”

He looked toward his companion’s wounded wing.

“And while we return, others can die waiting for us.”

Evelyn kept working, her expression grave.

I thought of Fenrir hearing another prisoner’s voice go silent through a wall.

“You would have our protection,” I said. “But I cannot promise an army at every grove and cliff by tomorrow.”

“We have not asked for that,” Aelune replied.

Serevan spread his wings enough to show the deep red beneath the gold.

“Nor have we come merely to hide behind yours.”

Vaelith inclined his head in approval.

The unicorns knew paths through forests where mounted patrols would become hopelessly lost. They could cleanse certain poisons and detect corruption in springs before whole settlements sickened.

The phoenixes could carry warnings over roads already lost to us. Their fire could destroy some of the workings animating the dead, though Serevan was careful to distinguish that from defeating the liches themselves.

“We cannot burn an army with a passing wingbeat,” he said. “If we could, we would not be here.”

“No one here expects you to,” I answered.

Thor glanced at me.

I suspected she was remembering several occasions on which I had needed that same reminder.

Mary brought copies of the defense agreement into the garden.

Before the afternoon ended, Lexander had summoned Concordia’s representatives, and Vaelith had confirmed which provisions he could approve on behalf of the dragon signatories.

We worked through the practical matters together.

Forest refuges needed surrounding land, clean water, and passage that would not be fenced shut as the city grew. Phoenixes needed high, quiet roosts where frightened guards would not mistake a late arrival for an attack.

Neither delegation wished to surrender its authority over its own people.

Neither would be asked to.

The immediate agreement added the represented herds and aeries to our mutual defense pact. Others could join through their own envoys. We would share intelligence, help evacuate threatened sanctuaries, and coordinate strikes against the forces hunting them.

Aelune pressed the tip of her horn to the seal prepared for her.

A silver branching mark appeared in the wax.

Serevan touched his with one talon, leaving a small golden impression without burning the parchment.

Mary inspected it.

“Thank you for that.”

This time, I was certain the phoenix was amused.

The children waited until the formal meeting ended before approaching.

Julian brought Tomas and Elowen with him. Garrick and Carol followed at a pace that suggested considerable effort had gone into remembering not to run.

Elowen stopped several steps from Aelune.

“May we greet you?”

“You may.”

Carol looked up at the long horn, then at her own empty hands.

“We didn’t bring anything.”

“Were you required to?” Aelune asked.

“No. But people bring things when they visit.”

“Then you have brought yourselves.”

Garrick considered that answer seriously.

Nearby, Julian was explaining the fountain to Elowen, although she had walked past it with him the day before.

She listened anyway.

When Serevan shook out his feathers, she reached instinctively for Julian’s sleeve.

He went very still.

She did not immediately let go.

Mirelle, standing beside Helena, watched her son with an expression so tender that I looked away before he noticed us noticing.

We learned that evening that Fenrir wanted to see the envoys.

Aelune went to the pavilion with Aurelia. Serevan perched in the open doorway, folding his light until it warmed the room without dazzling the recovering wolf.

Fenrir studied them both.

“So he has reached your groves.”

“Some,” Aelune said.

Fenrir’s claws pressed against the bedding.

“He always hated places that could heal without his permission.”

“Surtr commands the attacks,” I said.

“And Othellos makes use of them.”

It was a suspicion we shared, not proof we yet possessed.

Serevan turned toward the tables where Caldris had laid drawings of the removed restraints.

“May I look at those?”

Caldris brought one closer.

The phoenix studied it for a long time.

“This turn in the working. We have seen something similar on the cages brought into the nesting cliffs.”

Caldris immediately reached for fresh paper.

We had gained allies that afternoon.

We might also have gained a way to understand how our enemies were sharing their weapons.

Mirelle spoke to Julian after supper.

I was in the family sitting room with Garrick Valewood, trying to persuade a stubborn drawer to accept the runners Eleanor had sent. Julian had come to retrieve a book when his mother called him over.

“You and Elowen seem to be getting along.”

His fingers tightened around the book.

“Yes.”

“And Tomas.”

“Yes.”

Mirelle waited.

Julian looked toward the door, perhaps calculating whether he could reach it without appearing to flee.

“She likes the workshops,” he offered.

“So I understand.”

“And she knows about orchards. They had them near the summer house.”

He stopped, realizing that he had volunteered information no one had requested.

Mirelle smiled.

“Do you like her, Julian?”

The color rose from his collar to his ears.

Garrick became intensely interested in the drawer.

I attempted to follow his example.

“Yes,” Julian said at last.

The word was quiet, but there was no mistaking it.

Mirelle’s smile softened.

“Would you like me to speak with her father? With Halric, about the possibility of a betrothal?”

Julian stared at her.

His mouth opened.

No answer emerged.

He looked down at the book, then at the window, then at his mother again. Whatever courage had carried him through his first admission had plainly been insufficient preparation for the second question.

“I—”

Mirelle reached for his hand.

“You needn’t answer this evening.”

He nodded with visible relief, though his face remained scarlet.

“There would be time,” she added. “And Elowen would have to tell her parents what she wanted too.”

Another nod.

Then he remembered something urgently necessary elsewhere and escaped with his book held upside down.

We allowed him to reach the corridor before Garrick cleared his throat.

“I believe you surprised him.”

Mirelle looked toward the empty doorway.

“I believe he surprised himself first.”

Later, I found her standing beside Roderic’s portrait.

For a moment I considered leaving her alone, but she heard me stop.

“He would have teased him,” she said.

I joined her.

“Gently?”

“He would have intended to.”

Her smile trembled before settling.

“Then he would have spent an hour telling me how extraordinary it was that Julian had grown old enough to notice anyone.”

“Fourteen does seem to have arrived suddenly.”

“It did not feel sudden while he was outgrowing every pair of shoes we owned.”

We stood together in comfortable silence.

At last she said, “I won’t speak to Halric about a betrothal unless Julian asks me to. I only wanted him to know he could.”

“I think he knows.”

“I hope so.”

Her gaze lifted toward her husband’s painted face.

“There should still be things for them to look forward to, Uriah.”

“There will be.”

I could not promise her when we would reclaim Lyradon.

I could help make room for a boy to fall in love.

By morning, the first joint patrol was ready.

Vaelith would escort a phoenix messenger toward the threatened aeries. Eliza’s scouts would accompany one of Aelune’s companions to establish contact with the surviving herds. Thor and Lexander prepared a relief force that could move once those scouts identified a route.

Avarn found me watching them depart.

“Giants,” he said.

“Among other things.”

“Then this afternoon we practice against opponents whose reach you cannot safely guess.”

I looked at him.

“You sound pleased.”

“I would be pleased if none of this were necessary.” He handed me my practice sword. “Until then, I prefer you difficult to kill.”

Above the gate, the phoenix opened its wings.

Gold light spilled across the courtyard, catching the wet stones and every upturned face.

Across the garden, Elowen waited beside Julian’s little waterwheel. He had apparently recovered enough from the previous evening to bring it outside.

She said something that made him laugh.

Then she held out her hand.

He hesitated only a moment before taking it.

Beyond our walls, Surtr was teaching the dead to march.

Inside them, my brother-in-law stood beside a girl beneath a sky full of phoenix fire, smiling as though the morning had been made especially for him.

I took the sword from Avarn.

“Let’s begin.”