‘Lord Smedry, I’ve been talking to the other nobility,’ Sing said. ‘It . . . doesn’t look good. They’re all so tired of war. They want it to end.’
‘I’ll agree the war is terrible,’ Grandpa Smedry said. ‘But, Clustering Campbells, surrendering Mokia isn’t the answer! We need to show them that.’
Nobody responded. The five of us sat in the room for a time, thinking. Grandpa Smedry, Sing, and Folsom enjoyed the cookies, but I held off. Himalaya wasn’t eating them either. If they were poisoned, then she would know.
A short time later, a servant entered. ‘Lord Smedry,’ the young boy said, ‘Crystallia is requesting a Swap Time.’
‘Approved,’ Grandpa Smedry said.
Himalaya took a cookie and finally ate one. So much for that theory, I thought with a sigh. A short time later, Bastille walked in.
I stood up, shocked. ‘Bastille! you’re here!’
She appeared dazed, like she’d just suffered a repeated beating to the face. She looked at me and seemed to have trouble focusing. ‘I . . .’ she said. ‘Yes, I am.’
That gave me chills. Whatever they’d done to her in Crystallia must have been horrible if it left her unable to make sarcastic responses to my dumb comments. Sing rushed to pull over a chair for her. Bastille sat, hands in her lap. She was no longer wearing the uniform of a squire of Crystallia – she had on a generic brown tunic and trousers, like a lot of the people I’d seen in the city.
‘Child,’ Grandpa Smedry said, ‘how do you feel?’
‘Cold,’ she whispered.
‘We’re trying to think of a way to stop the Librarians from conquering Mokia, Bastille,’ I said. ‘Maybe . . . maybe you can help.’
She nodded absently. How were we going to involve her in helping expose the Librarian plot – and thereby get her knighthood back – if she could barely talk?
Grandpa Smedry glanced at me. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think I’m going to go break some crystal swords,’ I snapped.
‘Not about Bastille, lad,’ Grandpa said. ‘I can assure you, we’re all in agreement about how she’s been treated. We’ve got larger problems right now.’
I shrugged. ‘Grandpa, I don’t know anything about politics back in the Hushlands, let alone the politics here in Nalhalla! I have no idea what to do.’
‘We can’t just sit here!’ Sing said. ‘My people are dying as we speak. If the other Free Kingdoms remove their support, Mokia won’t have the supplies to keep fighting.’
‘Maybe . . . maybe I could look at the treaty?’ Himalaya said. ‘If I read it over, perhaps I would see something that you Nalhallans haven’t. Some trick the Librarians are pulling that we could show to the monarchs?’
‘Excellent!’ Grandpa Smedry said. ‘Folsom?’
‘I’ll take her to the palace,’ he said. ‘There’s a public copy there we can read.’
‘Lord Smedry,’ Sing said, ‘I think that you should speak to the kings again.’
‘I’ve tried that, Sing!’
‘Yes,’ the Mokian said, ‘but maybe you could address them formally in session. Maybe . . . I don’t know maybe that will embarrass them in front of the crowds.’
Grandpa Smedry frowned. ‘Well, yes. I’d rather do a daring infiltration, though!’
‘There . . . aren’t many places to infiltrate,’ Sing said. ‘The entire city is friendly toward us.’
‘Except that Librarian embassy,’ Grandpa Smedry said, eyes twinkling.
We sat for a moment, then glanced at Bastille. She was supposed to be the voice of reason, telling us to avoid doing things that were . . . well, stupid.
She just stared forward, though, stunned from what had been done to her.
‘Blast,’ Grandpa Smedry said. ‘Somebody tell me that infiltrating the embassy is a terrible idea!’