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Sure enough, the nurses emerged first. Then children were unloaded one by one, some on their feet, others in wheelchairs, but every one of them was greeted by the queen elect, at least in my eyes, Lady Sadira.
Dagny squawked, but when I checked to be sure she wasn’t in trouble, I realized she’d only decided to pretend to be a bird. Her arms flapped as she ran and tried to use the ribbons to take flight. Normally, I would have found some fun in watching her, but my heart wasn’t in it. It was Christmas Eve, and I was thousands of miles from home. Excuse my bah humbug attitude, but if Fitz didn’t need me, why was I still here?
Chantal rolled her eyes at Dagny, then turned back to us. “Esme consulted the leaves this morning. Bad news, I’m afraid.”
“Leaves?” I asked, no understanding.
Gwen came to my rescue. “Esmerey’s grandmother was a fortune teller. She was blessed with The Sight. She taught Esme to read tea leaves in a cup to divine the day’s events.”
I wasn’t one to bank much clout on that sort of thing, but Nolcovia had awakened a new streak in me. Maybe it was all folklore and superstition, but I found myself waiting for her report.
“You make it sound so average, like it’s learning to build a chair.” Chantal frowned. “Esme has the gift as well, and if you knew what she saw, you wouldn’t be so cavalier.”
“Fine.” Gwen’s arms crossed over her chest. “What did she see this time?”
Chantal’s eyes narrowed, annoyed that Gwen wasn’t giving her the respect she seemed to think she deserved. “She saw the Black Crow.”
If she was expecting Gwen to gasp, she was sorely disappointed. Instead, she scoffed, “You sound like the queen, Chantal.”
“It’s ominous.” Chantal’s face stiffened with warning. “It’s all these changes Leo is making. He’s asking for trouble.”
Yet again, I was in the dark because of a cultural divide.
“What’s the Black Crow?” I asked.
Chantal must have appreciated the faint waver of anxiety in my voice because she turned and explained, “It’s a sign that there will be a great upheaval. Everything we know will be turned on its head.” Mischief sparked to life in her eyes. “It’s the doomsday sign.”
My skin pricked with nervous energy. Doomsday? As in apocalypse? Or maybe civil war? Thudding beats of my heart left my mouth dry and my stomach churning. Was she for real?
“Stop scaring her,” Gwen cautioned. She turned to me and took my shoulders, trying to speak some calm into the turmoil Chantal had created. “It’s bits of leaves in a cup, that’s all.”
Chantal set her hand to my arm, stealing my attention back again. “The last time I heard of a Black Crow being read, we had a fire at the lumber mill. Fifty men were trapped inside.” She waited for me to gulp back my nerves. “My grandmother told me about it being read once when she was a little girl. That day, the great rebelling broke out in Princeborough. Twenty-five people died and the king’s sister was kidnapped and murdered.”
My breathing sped to the point that I became lightheaded. She had to be messing with me. Chantal’s fingers fell away from my arm, one at a time. Her attention fell back on Gwen. “Evil follows the reading. You’ll see.”
It didn’t sound like a warning. More like a promise… or a threat.
Though rattled, Gwen pushed it off. “Well, Esmerey doesn’t look too upset, does she?”
I followed where Gwen’s attention had settled, watching Esmerey and Blair talk with a couple of small girls who’d come off the bus. She had a point. For reading an ominous sign like the one Chantal had described, she didn’t look too concerned. Maybe Chantal really was messing with me.
“Right.” Chantal sniffed at the thought. “More like she’s living life to the fullest while there’s still time.” She started to move away from us but paused long enough to turn back. “Who’s to say this isn’t the day?”
“What day?” Gwen’s brow furrowed with deep wrinkles.
Chantal took a couple steps in reverse, a strange smile on her face. “The day when civil war breaks out.” She took a couple more steps with deeper conviction, disappearing a little more into the crowd with every step. “It could happen after all. And I’m not sure I want to be here when it does.”
“What are you…” Gwen took a step to follow Chantal, but glanced at me, eyes wide with worry. Without another word, she jogged after Chantal, determined to get answers.
This kind of talk left me unsettled. I rubbed my palm over my arm, trying to chase away the chill that had settled over me, but you can’t erase nerves so easily. A nearby band started ticking out the beat to a song. The blast of music shook me and I stumbled backward a step, eyes darting around the growing crowd as if an attack waited just outside my peripheral view. Instinct screamed at me to flee. Chantal was right. If civil war was about to break out, this was the last place I wanted to be.
But could I leave Fitz to fight on his own? I reversed one more step but collided with something hard and immovable. Warm hands cupped around my shoulders, startling me forward. I whirled, fists clenched and ready to fight.
Bishop chuckled under his breath. “Easy, bird, you crashed into me, remember?” When I didn’t relax, his eyebrows elevated higher. “Wee bit skittish, are we?”
I dropped my arms to my sides but in no way did my guard actually come down. “Chantal freaked me out.”
“Ah, yes.” He stepped forward, a teasing smile in place. “I can only imagine the harrowing tales her noble snootiness might tell.” He took on a mocking tone and clapped his cheeks with his palms. “And the lip liner didn’t match my lipstick. Ahhhh!”
