Rozalia said, “Tell your savage sorceress to stand down. I don’t want to fight her.”
“Pole?” Taniel looked around. No sign of her. “Get out of here,” he called. He thought he caught a glimpse of red hair behind one of the display cases.
“Let me leave in peace,” Rozalia said, “and I’ll leave the country tonight. I swear it. I’m done here.”
“As easy as that?” Taniel’s mind raced. Julene had to be dead after being thrown through an entire building. Gothen was a puddle on the floor. What threat could he possibly be to her? Was she that scared of his father?
“Simple as that,” Rozalia said. “I’m leaving this place. Your father has kicked a hornet’s nest and I intend to be gone before the hornets arrive.”
“What do you mean?”
Rozalia shook her head. “You really don’t know, do you? You’re playing with something dangerous—no, more than dangerous. Reckless. But it’s too late now. There’s no chance to restore the monarchy, to undo the damage. Westeven understood, but you others are blind.”
“You’re mad.”
“Ask Privileged Borbador, if you don’t believe me. He’s the last of the royal cabal. He’ll tell you the truth.”
“I will.”
Rozalia lowered her hand. Taniel got to his feet.
“I can’t guarantee that Tamas won’t send someone else after you. But to the pit with this. I’m done.”
“I’ll be on a ship to somewhere far from the Nine within a week,” Rozalia said. “Beyond his reach. Besides, I’ll be the least of his worries.” She turned away.
Taniel kept a wary eye on her as she headed toward the front door of the museum.
“Wait!” He hurried to her side and opened the door. He tried to avoid looking at what was left of Gothen as he passed it.
There were a dozen soldiers within sight. Their rifles were bayoneted and aimed.
“Stand down,” Taniel said. They stared at him. “Stand down, damn it, or we’re all dead men!”
Rifles slowly lowered. Rozalia walked down the steps as if she were a queen with an honor guard. She passed them all and headed toward the front gate of the university. She paused twenty or thirty feet from Taniel and turned back toward him. “Beware Julene,” she said before continuing on.
It was at least an hour later when Taniel caught sight of Julene heading toward him across the quad. This was a different quad, undisturbed, in a quiet corner of the campus. Ka-poel sat cross-legged beside him. He rested with his head against the wall, his hand on his sketchbook. He’d begun drawing Gothen. The man had been brave, and mercenary or not, he deserved to be remembered by someone. Taniel’s head hurt. His body hurt. And the person coming toward him shouldn’t be alive.
Julene looked like she’s been trampled by a herd of warhorses. Her clothing was burned and torn, indecent parts of her bared to the world, though she didn’t seem to care a wit. She strode up to Taniel and paused above him, hands on her hips.
“Where is Gothen?”
“Melted.”
She blanched at this, but recovered quickly enough. “Captain Ajucare said you let her go.”
Taniel nodded. “She’s leaving the country.”
Julene bent over, her face not a hand’s distance from Taniel’s.
“You let that bitch go!” She raised one gloved hand.
Taniel didn’t even remember drawing his pistol. One second his hands were in his lap, folded, the next he held a pistol, the end of the barrel pressing into the soft spot where Julene’s jaw and neck met. Her eyes went wide.
“Go away,” he said.
Chapter 14
The Lighthouse of Gostaun had been dated by most historians back to the Time of Kresimir. Some claimed that it was older still, and Tamas wouldn’t have been surprised. It was certainly the oldest building in Adopest. The stone was carved by the wind, its granite blocks pitted and scored by centuries of exposure to the elements, mercilessly whipped by every type of foul weather to come off the Adsea.
Tamas stood on the balcony of the lantern room, his hands clutching the stone railing. Something was wrong. The royalists were scattered, the granaries opened to the public. Already they had begun reconstruction efforts in the city, employing thousands to clear rubble from the streets and rebuild tenements. He should be concentrating completely on the approaching Kez ambassadors, yet he could not keep from looking to the southwest.
South Pike Mountain smoked. It began as a black sliver on the horizon the day of the earthquake two