Emily nodded, leading the way into the bedroom. “Do you think we can win?”
“I believe the raw material for a strong army is there,” Cat said. He came up behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist. “They’ll need seasoning, of course. It’s easy to talk about going to war when you’ve never heard the sound of the drums, never seen men returning with mutilated bodies…if they return at all. Some of them will break and run the moment they smell gunpowder or see their comrades falling…”
He pressed himself into her. “I can’t promise anything,” he said, as he nuzzled the back of her neck. She shivered at the raw sensation as she stroked his arms, feeling his muscles holding her tightly. His hands slid upwards until they were touching the underside of her breasts. “All I can really say is that we do have a chance. Anything after that is up to the gods.”
Emily turned, shifting in his arms until she was facing him. “I know,” she said. She wanted to talk about the future, to ask if there was a chance to be something more, but she knew better. They might be dead in the next few months. “But at least we have a chance.”
And then she kissed him.
Chapter Forty
THE HILL, EMILY CONSIDERED, WOULD HAVE been a good place for a picnic.
She sat on the grass, a rug underneath her, and watched the soldiers go through their paces under the burning sun. They seemed to be getting the hang of marching in line, she thought, although they were still too rusty on more detailed commands. Cat and his subordinates–he’d given practically every veteran who signed up an immediate promotion to sergeant–were running around sorting out tangles, pushing men back into line and offering a mixture of encouragement and threats to keep everyone moving. Emily couldn’t help wondering, as she saw the women on the far side of the field, just how many men had signed up because their girlfriends had encouraged them. The thought of being branded a coward had been making men do stupid things ever since the dawn of time.
And soldiers are not highly regarded in Zangaria, Emily thought. It must be the first time anyone was actually encouraged to enlist.
She shivered as she caught sight of one young man who was desperately trying to keep up with his bigger peers. The man had grit, she had to admit, although he was clearly unfit for duty. He’d need to work hard to fit in with the crowd. And yet, he was working hard. Cat would have kicked him out if he hadn’t been trying to qualify…
“Well,” a voice said, from behind her. “The country goes to war.”
Emily turned and saw Void, standing behind her. He looked…younger than before, with dark hair falling down over strong cheekbones and a muscular frame. His eyes were dark…and old, reflecting his true age. She had to remind herself that Void was in his second century. He might look young, but he was old enough to be her great-grandfather.
“Void,” she said, suddenly unsure of herself. Void had offered her an apprenticeship, but she’d barely taken the time to write him a letter before hurrying off to save her friends from the Tower. “I was hoping I’d see you soon.”
Void looked disapproving as he peered past her, his eyes taking in the men on the training field. “You do realize that this is none of your concern?”
Emily shook her head. “Alassa is my friend.”
“And you got her out of her prison,” Void told her. “I’d say you did all you needed to do.”
He waved a hand towards the men. “This war–their war–is none of your concern. It doesn’t matter to you who sits on the throne, let alone what they do to their people. Your concern–your sole concern–is developing your power and facing the necromancers. Not using tricks that reveal far too much to help one side in a petty little power struggle.”
“This isn’t a petty little struggle,” Emily said. “The future is at stake.”
“Cockatrice is a small barony in a relatively small country, one of many,” Void reminded her, coldly. “Whatever happens here will not affect us, Emily. Nor will it affect the enemies of everything. The necromancers will not care who wins this conflict. They will look, instead, for ways to break through the chokepoints and overrun the Allied Lands.”
And I might have shown them how, Emily thought. A full-fledged necromancer, perhaps one who duplicated Dua Kepala’s trick to keep himself relatively sane, wouldn’t need a battery to open a freestanding portal. If they ever learn to work together, or one of them comes out on top, they could open portals into the rear of the Allied Lands and invade.
“It doesn’t matter who sits on the throne,” Void repeated. “Our concern is elsewhere.”
“Randor has to be stopped,” Emily said.
“But not by us,” Void said. “There are reasons we senior magicians are not supposed to interfere. The Compact binds us. You may not have broken the letter of the law, Emily, but you have certainly evaded the spirit. Your status as a baroness may give you a legitimate reason to meddle, yet…”
He shook his head. “I believe I offered you an apprenticeship,” he said. “It’s time we began.”
Emily felt her heart sink. She wanted the apprenticeship, she wanted to learn what Void could teach her, but she couldn’t leave her friends in the lurch. Alassa, Jade and the others might be able to prevail without her, yet she couldn’t take that for granted. Cockatrice would fight for her, perhaps, but not for Cat or Imaiqah. She didn’t dare leave.
Void held out a hand. “Come,” he said. “Leave them to their scrabble.”
“No,” Emily said. Her heart started to pound. “Are you…are you saying that it’s now or never?”
“You shouldn’t be involved in this, Emily,” Void said. His face was very firm. “At best, it is nothing more than a distraction from your true purpose.”
Emily forced herself to meet his dark eyes. “And if I refuse to come now, will you take me when I do come?”
Void looked back at her for a long moment. “If I choose to wait for you, it will not be forever.”
“I understand,” Emily said.
“No, you don’t,” Void told her, bluntly.
“I can’t leave my friends in the lurch,” Emily said. It was growing harder to hold his gaze. “I…they need me.”
“Maybe,” Void said.
He stepped back, breaking eye contact. When he spoke, his voice was so toneless that she couldn’t even begin to read his emotions. “You have a year, no more. And when I call you a second time, there will be no third chance. Come then or don’t come at all.”
Emily bowed her head, wondering if she’d made a mistake even as she knew there was no choice at all. She didn’t want to abandon her friends. She couldn’t abandon her friends, even if it meant giving up the apprenticeship. She’d made a commitment to help Alassa and she would see it through.
“I understand.” Her throat was dry. “When this is over, I will come to you.”
Void’s lips twitched into something that might–charitably–be called a smile. “I don’t think you do,” he said. “And I think you will have to pay a price for your involvement in their affairs. And, even if there is no obvious price, it will earn you more enemies. I understand why you want to stay, Emily, but people like us cannot afford to be ruled by our hearts.”
He lifted one hand in salute, then vanished in a flash of light.
Emily stared at the spot where he’d been, unsure what had happened…unsure, even, if she was making a mistake. Void was old enough, she thought, to recall the days of chaos that followed the Faerie War. He’d seen kingdoms rise and fall. To him, perhaps, Zangaria was just another country that had risen to power and was now on the verge of sinking again…
…But to her, it was a land of real people. People she’d met, people she knew…people who didn’t deserve to have their world torn apart by kings and noblemen fighting for power. The common folk didn’t deserve to have their homes destroyed, their men slaughtered or conscripted, their women and children raped or murdered…they deserved a chance to live for themselves. Alassa was their only hope. And Emily was doing the right thing.
Wasn’t she?
Epilogue