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“How?”
Another pause, almost undetectable, but Ilse was watching Valara closely. She did not think the woman was lying outright, but she suspected carefully selected gaps in her story.
“He used magic,” Valara said slowly. “Spells locked on the ships, which remained dormant until unleashed by a matching key. It— I am not certain I have the words to describe it, but those spells translated the ships and everything inside them to light.”
“You saw that?” Raul said sharply.
She shook her head. “I heard the soldiers talk about it, after they took me prisoner. One set for all twenty ships bound to Morennioù. Another set for those who returned.”
Ilse let her breath trickle out. So, Dzavek had found the means to break through the magical barrier set by Morennioù’s great mages three hundred years ago. It would require equally great magic to do that, but Leos Dzavek had the knowledge and skill—centuries of it.
Raul refilled his mug with more unpalatable coffee. Such a casual gesture, but Ilse thought she could read great tension underneath, like a panther that has sighted its prey. “Interesting,” he said mildly. “Leos Dzavek achieved what no other mage could these past three hundred years. Are you as skilled as he is?”
Valara’s gaze never wavered. “No.”
“Then how do you propose to return to your homeland? Unless you have Lir’s jewel and can use its magic to support your own.”
“I have no jewel with me,” Valara replied quickly. “It stays hidden in my homeland. The Károvín did not discover its presence, because we gave them a counterfeit wrapped in magic. This is what I told her before.” She nodded toward Ilse. “But with a good ship and crew, it is possible to circle around the barrier. Luxa’s Hand does not extend infinitely. I’ve studied the maps left by the old mages. Far south, near the great ice fields, the barrier ends.”
Raul sipped his coffee, grimaced, and set it aside. “A dangerous voyage.”
“Yes,” Valara said. “But remember, a fleet of ships and their soldiers remain in Morennioù, Lord Kosenmark. I might be queen, but I am a hunted queen, far from home and with the enemy at loose in my lands. That is the reason behind my desperation. So I ask again, will you give me passage home?”
Raul said nothing for a few moments. Ilse didn’t need a magical spell to read his mind. He was casting over what Valara told him, sifting through her words and silences for the truth.
“What about us?” he said at last. “More important, what about the third jewel?”
“What about it?” Valara asked in turn.
“You have one jewel. Leos Dzavek has recovered the second. Do not bother to deny it. I have confirmation from several trusted sources. So far you are well-matched. Veraene has nothing.”
“Not exactly nothing,” Valara replied. “You have tens of thousands of soldiers more than I. You have a mage councillor of great skill—”
“Leave him aside,” Raul said. “One jewel—one creature born of Lir’s breath and love and passion—that can overturn any advantage we have. We need a better assurance.”
“What kind of assurance? Your famous peace? Your word is not enough, Lord Kosenmark. You might say I have nothing to bargain with. But I would gladly bargain my life against my kingdom’s security.”
The firelight gave the other woman’s face a ruddy cast. Her eyes were like dark strokes of ink against a sheet of parchment, aged to the color of honey, her face like the face of stone monuments from ancient times. It was in that moment that Ilse saw why Valara was the heir and now queen. She did not speak empty words.
I have met this woman before, in lives past. Which ones?
She glanced toward Raul. He gave slight nod. My turn, Ilse thought.
“Are you ready for war, then?” she asked Valara. “Are you ready for all your people to die, not just you?”
Valara blinked at the question. “Why should that matter to you?”
“Peace matters to me. Unless we agree, Veraene faces a bloody, unnecessary war. Unless we agree, you face a thousand or more soldiers and mages from Veraene or Károví.”
“More threats,” Valara said. Her voice sounded rougher than before.
“No, merely observations about the risks following your decisions. You might believe that a war between Veraene and Károví protects you. It will, for a time. We haven’t ships or soldiers or mages enough to battle two kingdoms, especially one so far away as yours. Or you might believe that Morennioù could ally itself with either of us—”
“I don’t.”
Ilse tilted her hand to one side. “Then you believe that Lir’s Veil protects you. Also wrong. Morennioù is no longer the lost kingdom. One fleet of ships found a way through the Veil. Others will follow. War here simply means a delay.”
Valara stared at Ilse a long moment. “So what do you propose?” she said at last.
