Nobles from all over Lunette were in attendance at the new royal advisor's appointment ceremony. Each had their own motivations, but Cricket couldn't help but think a number of them were there to see a spectacle. He knew that his uncle was. Anstice was the youngest advisor appointed in centuries, and she was a quarter of the king's age. But that made no difference, Cricket knew she could do the job well. She'd serve Lunette just as well as her mother had.
A hush settled over the hall as Anstice made her way across the dais. Her train dragging behind her, fan tucked behind her back, and a serene look of surety on her face. It was the most grown-up Cricket had ever seen her, and he nearly cried at the sight.
"Please repeat after me. I, Anstice Naveen Dresden, do swear," the master of ceremonies was droning. Honestly, if they could get a new master of ceremonies that'd make things a little more interesting. Cricket leaned back in his chair, and then sat up again when Uncle Sunil cut him a look.
Anstice stood up straighter looking for all the world like a queen about to make a declaration for her people. Cricket couldn't fight the grin that took over his face. If it weren't for Uncle Sunil to the right of him, he may have leaned over to the lord on his left, nudged him and told the man that that was his best friend up there. But he was sure Uncle Sunil would have something to say about that.
"I, Anstice Naveen Dresd—"
A clattering of noise from the hall drew everyone's eyes, including Anstice. A messenger, hair disheveled, eyes wild, ran down the center of the room. His feet slapped against the stone, echoing in the now silent space. Cricket heard more than one nobleman gasp as he climbed the steps of the dais.
"Excuse me. Excuse me. I'm so sorry to intrude. Excuse me." The man panted, falling to his knees before Father. "I'm sorry, your highness, I didn't...I couldn't... This is too important."
Father reached for the man, pulling him to his feet. "What is it? What's happened?"
The man whispered something to Father that Cricket couldn't hear. Father glanced to Anstice, and she nodded quickly.
"Is there a way to hurry this along? It seems I have a duty to fill already?" Anstice asked the master of ceremonies.
His long white beard quivered, looking thoroughly put out by the whole affair, but he rushed through what was left of it. Cricket had never heard the man speak so fast in his life, and he was sure he never would again. But it didn't matter, because not ten minutes later they were all dismissed, the guests ushered to the dining hall for refreshments on Anstice's orders, and Cricket trailed behind Uncle Sunil into Father's private study.
The messenger had been provided with tea, and a comfortable chair. He looked less harried now than he had fifteen minutes ago, but no less worried. His fingers trembled around the porcelain teacup.
"Please. Tell the others what you have told me," Father said from where he stood looking out the large circular window that overlooked the city below. The only sign of his distress, the clenched hands behind his back. Cricket had known him long enough to recognize it, though he'd rarely seen it. That was the most worrying thing, Father didn't get distressed. He remained calm, and upright, always. But Cricket could see a curving about his shoulders, exhaustion maybe. It had been a long couple of weeks.
"There's been an outbreak!" The man's hands shook violently, splattering tea on his fingers.
"Let me," Antice said softly, taking the cup from him and setting it on one of the tables stacked in books. "Slow down, start from the beginning."
"An outbreak of what?" Uncle Sunil demanded, making the messenger wilt in on himself a little more.
"Don't scare him, Sunil." Anstice frowned, taking one of the man's shoulders to give it a gentle squeeze. "Go on, Theo. Tell them exactly as you told the king."
Theo nodded, a loud gulp coming from his throat before he started over. "For the last few weeks, we've seen a rise in magic all over the kingdom. At first it was little stuff; it could be shrugged off as that time of year. You know how it swells when the seasons change, and with all the rain we've had...well...it only made sense that nature would be a little off kilter. And none of the magic seemed malevolent, so it seemed normal."
"Which villages were these?" Anstice asked, moving to the big table in the middle of the room that Father had sprawled a great map across.
"It's all over," Theo breathed.
"Keep going," Father said, still not turning to face the room.
"Two days ago, the magic turned dark. Destructive." Theo reached for the tea again, seeming to need something to hold onto to steady himself. "There are reports from all over the kingdom of dragon attacks, whole villages disappearing, witches running amok, fairies stealing children. It's chaos."
"Do you have the reports?" Anstice was clenching the table, her knuckles turning white. Theo looked up at her confused. "I need exact locations."
"We should send out the army," Uncle Sunil said. "I'll send word to general Eytan. We can start planning the attack—"
"No," Anstice stopped him. She took the scroll of reports from Theo, reading over them quickly and waving a hand across the map. When Cricket moved to her side little lights glowed in the places that had been attacked. Cricket frowned down at the map. Anstice's eyes had gone sharp, she was seeing something he wasn't.
"No?" Uncle Sunil asked, sounding irritated. "I beg your pardon, Anstice, but you've been the royal advisor for a grand total of two minutes. You don't get to make that decision. Jaxith. We must send out the army at once. If this is some kind of magical warfare, we have to get ahead of it."
"Your Highness, you need to see this." Anstice rolled the scroll back up, setting it aside. Her hands clasped and unclasped around her fan. Cricket took a step towards her, tilting his head to see it from a different angle. But it didn't make sense. None of it made sense.
"What is it?" Father asked, leaving his place at the window to join them at the table.
"Jaxith!" Uncle Sunil argued, but Father waved him away.
"It just doesn't make sense," Anstice muttered, tapping her fan on the table. "None of it makes sense."
Father leaned over, a growing tightness between his brows as he looked over the dots. They glittered like jewels on the pale paper. Flickering with the magic Anstice had embedded in them.
"This doesn't look like a war strategy." Anstice shook her head. "They're scattered too much. And look, they're not even hitting any of the cities close to the capital."
"Do we have dates for them?" Cricket asked, tilting his head the other way.
Anstice nodded. "Let's do them in order of brightness. The brightest the first, the dimmest the most recent."
Another tap of her fan on the table and some of the lights dimmed while others grew near blinding. Cricket huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. That made even less sense. "There's no order to it."
"No. It doesn't even look like they're moving in a straight line," Anstice agreed.
"If anything, they're moving away from the palace and towards the mountains that border Helio." Father's finger stroked a path from the brightest to dimmest of them, showing what he meant.
"Yes, but in a zig zag. How does that make any sense?" Anstice shook her head.
"Since when has terrorism made sense?!" Uncle Sunil barked from too close to Anstice's ear. Anstice winced, rubbing at it with a frown.
"No need to shout." Anstice glared at him.
Cricket's brows drew together. He took a step back from the map, tilting his head one way and then the other. When that didn't help make sense of what he was seeing he walked around the table. Doing a full three laps while Anstice and Uncle Sunil bickered. Anstice was right, it didn't make sense. Not even for a terrorist attack. No. This was something else. It was strategic, but made to look random it was—
"A distraction," Cricket muttered.
Anstice and Uncle Sunil stopped growling at one another to look at him.
"What was that Cricket?" Father asked.
"It's a distraction. It's not a terrorist attack, it's not any kind of attack. It's a distraction. To draw the army away from the palace, and leave us defenseless." He nodded to himself, surer of it now than before. "If you send the army out, we will be attacked, and we will be overtaken."
"Then what would you suggest we do?" Uncle Sunil crossed his arms over his chest, his expression every part smug and self-satisfied. As if he knew better than anyone else. Than Father. Than Anstice. Than Cricket. But he didn't. Cricket had never been more sure of it.
"A small envoy, to break up the disturbances. Don't you think Anstice?"
Anstice nodded. "Yes, something that won't leave the palace defenseless, but will ensure to our people that they're being cared for. Most of these will probably resolve themselves in time, but someone should be sent. A representative."
"Me." Cricket smiled. "I'll go."
There was a clatter from where Theo had dropped his teacup, and every head in the room turned to look at Cricket. Each wearing a slightly different worried expression.
"Cricket. Son. No." Father shook his head.
"That's insanity." Ignacia glared at him. He wasn't sure when she had gotten there, but she'd heard enough of the conversation apparently to make the assessment that he'd lost his mind.
"No, it makes sense. We want our people to know that we care about their suffering. That we want to see this resolved. We want to make sure they feel heard. The best way to do that is to send one of our own." It was reasonable, he thought. And why shouldn't he go? Father couldn't, neither could Uncle or Anstice. He was the best qualified.
"We should send one of the higher-ranking soldiers," Ignacia said. "Someone with enough clout to make them feel safe, but who isn't the heir."
"The people don't know any of the soldiers," Cricket argued.
"So?"
"No. He has a point," Anstice said, tapping her fan to Cricket's shoulder. "They don't know any of the soldiers. Our army tends to work as a faceless unit with the king at the head. It's not that none of them could handle this, they all could. But the people don't know them. They don't know their names."
"This is a stupid idea." Ignacia frowned.
"I agree with Ignacia, we can't take this chance." Uncle Sunil moved to stand beside her, and Ignacia took a not-so-subtle step away from him.
"In the end, this is your choice, Son." Father sighed, his shoulders sagging. He looked tired. Defeated. Heartbroken. Cricket hated it. He hated that he was the one making Father look like that. But what other option was there? None.
"His choice?!" Uncle Sunil shouted, turning pink, but before he could move further into the red family Father shook his head.
"Yes, his choice. Whether we approve or not, Cricket is going to do what he thinks best, as any good king would. And we cannot stop him."
"This is...Jaxith... He could..." Uncle Sunil was floundering for words.
Cricket met Anstice's eyes, saw her nod. There was a twinkle there in her eyes, a reminder of what they'd said not but a fortnight ago in the bunny pen. Whatever Uncle Sunil said, Cricket should do the opposite.
"I'll go."
"Then he should take one of the soldiers." Uncle Sunil sounded defeated, like he was being beaten at some game he didn't know he was playing. "I'll appoint you a—"
"Uncle," Cricket laughed, shaking his head. "I don't need a bodyguard. I'll take my sword, and I'll take Iggy. That will be enough. Have a little faith in your nephew, yeah?"
"Unless you don't think he's capable?" Anstice asked, but it didn't sound like a question. It sounded like a challenge.
"I never said that." Uncle Sunil huffed, deflating.
"Then you can leave in the morning." Father nodded. "Sunil, have a servant prepare a room for Theo. He deserves a rest after riding all this way. Ignacia, I trust you can handle the horses. Anstice, I'd like a map made up for Cricket, he ought to head to the places where the magic is at its most dangerous."
"Yes, Your Highness." Anstice and Ignacia nodded. Then they, Uncle Sunil, and Theo all left to complete their respective tasks.
It was quieter than Cricket would have liked once they were all gone. Father still had his hands folded behind his back; his eyes fixed on the map.
"Father—" Cricket started but then stopped, unsure of what he was going to say. Was he going to apologize? Was he going to say thank you? What? He didn't know.
Father sighed, leaning heavily against the table. "You must be careful, Cricket. And come back to me in one piece."
"I will." Cricket nodded. "I'll make you proud."
"Of that, I have no doubt." Father smiled, shaking his head. "Just try not to get into too much trouble along the way, yes?"
"I don't make any promises."
Father laughed, the worry leaving his features. "Go to bed. You have an early start ahead of you, and I know how you hate mornings."
"Yes, Father."
Comments (0)
See all