Elban’s breath rattled. Then, as they all waited, it stopped altogether. In the silence left by its absence, nobody else seemed to breathe, either. For a bizarre moment, Judah found herself nearly panicking. That couldn’t be it. That couldn’t be the end of him. It was too simple, too quick.
Moving slowly, as if through heavy liquid, the magus leaned over and touched the long, pale neck. When he looked up, his eyes practically glowed. For some reason, they were fixed on Judah. “He’s dead.”
The Seneschal stepped forward, his eyes darting from the magus to the guards to the four young people. “You’re witnesses,” he said. “I did everything I could. I spared no effort. Is that true? Magus?”
The magus looked faintly puzzled, but said, “It’s true.”
The Seneschal turned to Gavin. “Lord Gavin? Lady Eleanor?”
“Yes,” Gavin said. For all Judah knew, this was some formality that had to be dispensed with.
Next to him, Elly nodded mutely. Then she seemed to gather herself. “Of course, Seneschal. Nobody would doubt your dedication.”
The Seneschal looked at the guards, who nodded.
“I’m Lord of the City,” Gavin said softly. Something new was filling his face, just as the light from the oil lamps was filling the room. A warmth, a flush. He was smiling, faintly.
Transfixed by the changes in Gavin—the subtle squaring of his shoulders, the relaxation of something tight that had been there so long it had become natural to him—Judah barely noticed the Seneschal motioning to the guards.
“No.” His voice was clear and firm and oddly gentle. “I’m sorry, Lord Gavin, but there will be no more Lords of the City. No more courtiers. In time, maybe no more House.”
The world froze. Receded. Judah could not have moved even if she’d known where to go, and she didn’t. Gavin and Elly, too, seemed locked into place, shock breaking over them.
But it was the magus who broke the silence with a strangled sound from deep in his throat. As if this were all normal, Theron said, “I told you, wrong colors,” and tapped his chest.
And it was true: all the guards in the room wore House white. She could not remember seeing a red badge since Elban’s return. If they’d bothered to ask Theron what he’d meant—if they hadn’t grown so used to ignoring him—
Then they probably still wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Judah was not at all sure how she felt. Gavin stood stock-still, naked with disbelief. Elly looked—hurt. The Seneschal’s expression was one of pity, even sympathy. “Take them to their rooms,” he said.
Two guards stepped forward and took Gavin in hand, one at each arm. He stared numbly at them and she wondered if they were men he’d trained with, men he knew. The room was suddenly full of guards and Judah found herself similarly surrounded, although the guards didn’t quite seem to want to touch her. Theron looked at the guards who held him as though not entirely sure where they’d come from.
Then they tried to take Elly. She shook them off. Her hurt feelings had evidently morphed into anger. “What happens next?” she asked, furious. “Are you going to kill us?”
The Seneschal did not answer. The guards did take Judah’s arms, then, and Elly’s, and all of them were dragged away.
Part II
Chapter Thirteen
The first night was chaos. Nate, bewildered, didn’t even try to sleep as Limley Square filled with the sounds of panic. The courtiers had been given twenty-four hours to leave the city with whatever they could carry, but based on snatches of conversation Nate overheard through the drafty windows, most of the servants dispatched to fetch horses from the city stables were returning empty-handed or not at all. Those courtiers who actually managed to find their horses didn’t fare much better. Near midnight Nate heard cries; peering through the front window, he saw a man in fine clothes lying in the street near a stopped carriage, being kicked by a guard. Other guards were emptying the carriage, while the man’s wife and daughters stood by and wailed. When the goods were gone, the carriage itself was driven away; the wife and daughters fled into the night. The man’s body lay where he had fallen. When all was silent, Nate took his satchel and opened the front door.
Two guards stood on his front step, well-armed and wearing the Seneschal’s white badge. They nodded politely at him. “Best you go back inside, magus,” one said. “Bit risky out here tonight.”