That was a blow beyond any I could have imagined. “Only five hundred left in London?” I whispered.
“You misunderstand.” He looked to the ceiling, as if reading his lines off it. “The Ancients and Familiars took full advantage of the Faerie roads, striking every city and town with a strong sorcerer presence. There are five hundred commended sorcerers left in the whole of England.”
Extermination. R’hlem had shown no mercy.
“Women and children?” I whispered. My strength gave out, and I slid back to lie on the floor. Blackwood gave me his hand.
“We’re not certain yet,” he said gently. “Come. I must address our Order.” Our Order was an odd thing to say. “Can you walk?” With help, I got to my feet, and he called Maria and Lilly inside. Between them, they escorted me into the courtyard, but they had to let sorcerers take hold of me at the entrance to the obsidian cathedral, since only the commended could enter that hallowed space.
Wait until they find out what Maria is, I thought darkly, letting myself be led inside.
The numbers barely filled the first two rows. Some men, the younger ones, stared blankly ahead or were rocking back and forth. Others were hard at work sweeping up the shattered obsidian with small gusts of wind. I didn’t see any blood left in this place; they must have washed it away. Glancing at the room, I noted something disturbing: most were either very young or old. R’hlem had swallowed up the majority of our best warriors in one go. I saw a few in their twenties, like Valens, who was among those cleaning. But most were either sixteen or sixty.
Simply being back here made the pain in my shoulder flourish, and I crumpled. The men holding me tried to pull me up rather roughly.
“Howel!” Magnus was there in an instant, breaking through the men to hold me himself. Wolff and Lambe came to greet me as well.
They were alive. My wound screamed, as if furious that I’d ignored it for half a moment. Wolff carried me to a seat, settling me in between the boys.
Lambe whispered, “You took the belladonna. You saw.” He smiled.
“Yes. I saw.”
Wolff patted my arm. Somehow we’d all come together again. Damn everything that had happened, I was luckier than most.
The room quieted as Blackwood climbed the dais. There was no throne for him to sit upon. Its remains lay piled in a corner, a broken reminder of all we had lost. Tension rose as Blackwood took his now rightful place. Sorcerers waited to pounce on the boy Imperator. Why on earth had the queen assigned such a crucial role to someone so very young?
Then again, as I’d noticed a moment before, we did not have a large selection from which to choose.
“I know we have suffered a great deal.” Blackwood’s voice rang out. “I know many do not approve of Her Majesty’s choice of Imperator.” Dead silence met this statement. At least one person had the decency to cough. “Let me explain, then. Much of Her Majesty’s government was slaughtered in the ambush. What’s left of the army and navy is scattered about the country. The prime minister is alive but badly wounded. All of our old safeguards have been ripped away.” He scanned the room, clearly watching everyone’s reaction to his words. “The queen requires sorcerer counsel, and I made Her Majesty an offer of safety that I could ensure only if I held the position of Imperator.” I could sense him slotting everyone into the columns of ally or enemy. “My estate in Sorrow-Fell is the best safehold we have left, besides the Dombrey Priory, and Dombrey has neither the space nor the resources to house the rest of sorcererkind.”
Murmuring began. One man in the back called out, “What are you suggesting, sir?” His tone was harsh. Enemy. Blackwood didn’t falter.
“We go north to Sorrow-Fell and stay behind the faerie protections.”
There was instant and explosive arguing about the faeries. I tried to piece together how he intended for this to work. Blackwood held up his hand until order was gradually restored.
“Sorrow-Fell was a gift from one of Queen Titania’s nobles, of the light court. Mab’s army cannot cross those boundaries any more than Titania’s can. It is physically impossible without an invitation from me. Thus, the estate becomes the one place in our kingdom where we are completely safe from both Ancients and faeries.”
He was right. I heard people reluctantly agreeing.
“What about the survivors in London?” Magnus asked, standing up.
“Yes.” Blackwood sounded regretful. “We can take only those who are most essential. Therefore, all survivors who are non-sorcerer must be left behind.”
At that, there was full-throated shouting, and if I hadn’t been so weak, I’d have joined in. Leaning against Wolff, I recalled a night at Agrippa’s where Blackwood and I had hotly debated protecting the strong over the weak. I couldn’t have heard him right just now. He had once said no innocent life is worth more than another, and now this? Abandon the people we were sworn to protect?
Her Majesty commended you.
“It is the only way to ensure survival.” Blackwood waited until everyone was calm enough for him to continue, though there was still angry buzzing at the back. He looked blank, as though he’d anticipated our reaction, anticipated every reaction. It dawned on me that he was fully in his element. “Those innocents who die in the coming months will be a hard burden to bear, but the generations that come after will exist because of what we do today. There is hope ahead. We have the weapons. We know that R’hlem has been severely wounded.” His eyes found mine. “If we rely solely upon one another, victory could be mere weeks away.”
Some were not prepared to move on, however. Valens stood, livid with anger.
“This goes against everything in our commendation vows!” he cried, and I quite agreed. A hush gathered as he kicked aside a pile of broken obsidian. “We cannot leave these people to slaughter!”
“We hid beneath the ward for years.” Blackwood’s voice was icy. “I’m asking for months.”
“Monstrous,” Valens snapped. Blackwood closed his eyes, and a cold wind sprang up, chilling me to the bone. The men cried out in surprise. Blackwood looked at every one of us in turn, power surging from him and out to us, just as it had with Whitechurch.
But Whitechurch had never used his power to silence us. When Blackwood ceased his warning, no one spoke.
“United, we will survive. Divided,” he said, looking quickly at Valens, “we won’t last the winter. We will be safe, but not complacent. Palehook performed monstrous acts to keep us sheltered from reality, but I will have none of that.” His eyes blazed as he reached out to us. “We will work tirelessly until the Ancients have been destroyed. Who in this room has not lost a friend in this attack? A brother? God forbid, a son?” Some of the older men placed hands over hearts. Blackwood had them now—he had them in his very palm. “I lost a father to these monsters long ago. I will be damned if I lose another member of my family.” He beat his breast. “And the Order is my family, now and always.”
He was lying. He didn’t grieve his father; he had no great love for the Order. But right now, the boy who hated artifice above all else was reveling in it, because they were all turning to him. Following him. Believing in him. Cursing, Valens returned to his seat. He knew he’d lost.
“Give me your trust this one time. Let us work together to end this war. Then, when peace has been restored, I will step down as Imperator.” He bowed his head. “You’ve my word.”
He burned with sincerity, and the crowd broke into applause. In a matter of minutes, he’d won them all over, desperate as they were for someone to take charge. The boys and I, however, were silent.
“As I say, we shall provide a united front, and I must have the best possible advisors by my side. Which brings me to another, more joyous announcement.” He held out a hand to me. “Henrietta Howel is to become my wife.”