Chapter 53

  Of the twenty-four human lords Hitasa managed to visit in her first day of publication, only the twenty-fourth, Minor Lord Omer, attempted to kill her. All of the others had been sufficiently cowed by Dalex’s previous visit. But Omer, upon realizing the definition of the spell Hitasa was trying to make, pulled a publicized flintlock pistol from under his coat and tried to shoot her.

  Luckily for Hitasa, Omer wasn’t an experienced quick-draw shooter. Dalex’s charm of protection over Hitasa shot him before he could fire his weapon. Luckily for Omer, Ring’s projectile missed his heart. Unluckily for him, it still did plenty of damage. He lay on the ground, groaning and bleeding out.

  Despite Ring acting to protect her before any real danger could befall her, Hitasa’s heart beat twice as fast as usual. She stood over Omer, not sure what to do. The all-purpose gel could heal his wound. Ring had told her about its medical capabilities. But should she save this man’s life? He wasn’t the worst of the Batulan-bar humans, and certainly he was no Castreier. But still, he had tried to kill her.

  Ring started rattling off Omer’s condition, informing her how much blood he was losing and which of his internal organs were damaged. The charm of protection was likely simply giving her information, but it felt like Ring was encouraging Hitasa to spare Omer. And the gruesome description of his injury made her feel too sick to watch him die. She instructed the all-purpose gel to heal the most crucial elements of his wound, repairing a major artery and some damage to one of his lungs.

  Ring informed Hitasa that Omer would likely live without any further intervention from her, and so she left him on the ground to let his body and whatever staff he had left take care of the rest. Once the all-purpose gel left him, it formed into Hitasa’s simple flying contraption and carried her away from the minor lord’s small estate.

  It was getting late, and the sun was nearing the horizon. Hitasa had shown “kirtevas writes my script across the sky” to about five hundred people. When she activated the spell, it now displayed the writing she chose in legible black ink in the air over her head, each letter almost as big as she was. It was to the point where she might just passively gain believers if she walked through the streets of Batulan-bar with the definition hanging over her head, but she hadn’t yet used kirtevas to speed up her publication, choosing to rely on the note written on the back of manifesto flier for the moment. When it came time to use kirtevas for real, she wanted it to have as much of an impact as possible.

  Before turning in for the night, Hitasa decided to visit one final human estate. It was inside the city and on her way back to Dava’s home, and belonged to a high lord by the name of Gontaut. When she set down outside his modestly-sized manor, no one was outside to notice her arrival, but, when she walked in the front door without knocking, she discovered that the high lord already had guests.

  Metsa and Staja sat across a dining room table from Gontaut—Hitasa had no trouble identifying the man by the elaborate finery of his attire—engaged in energetic conversation.

  Hitasa stood in the door to the dining room for a full five seconds before they realized she was there. The two elves were facing away from the entry, and Gontaut only had a side view of her. Finally, the human noticed Hitasa out of his peripheral vision. Gontaut’s eyes went wide, and he pushed his chair away from the table, standing and preparing himself to flee. Metsa and Staja quickly turned around but seemed only confused by Hitasa’s presence rather than alarmed.

  “What are you doing here?” Metsa asked. She finally stood up and faced Hitasa. “And where have you been?”

  “I’m working on something,” Hitasa said, not wanting to explain further. She wasn’t sure how Metsa and the others would react to kirtevas. “Why are you two here? What business could you have with this human?”

  Staja, who was still sitting, said, “Ships have stopped coming up the river. Several shipments of grain were supposed to arrive this morning, but the port has been quiet all day. High Lord Gontaut has trade dealings with Ulenbeter, and he has been sympathetic to elves in the past.”

  “Who is this?” Gontaut asked, still weighing fight or flight.

  Staja put out a placating hand. “She is a friend, High Lord Gontaut. You have nothing to fear from her or us.”

  The human relaxed slightly, but still demanded, “Why is she here?”

  “What are you working on?” Metsa pressed.

  Hitasa studied the three of them carefully, debating whether she would continue keeping kirtevas to herself or if she should attempt to continue growing the spell here and now. In the end, she decided to be patient. She could return another time to get Gontaut and his household alone, and she wanted to make as much progress on the spell as possible before revealing it to the resistance.

  “I was following up on a task for our mutual friend,” Hitasa said. Hopefully, that would be enough to satisfy Metsa for now. Hitasa didn’t want to use Dalex’s name yet. When the human lords realized who she was associated with, they tended to panic. “What is happening with the shipments?”

  Metsa did not answer. She held a disapproving gaze on Hitasa, clearly not satisfied, but also apparently uncertain if she wanted to press the issue.

  Her son answered for her. “Unfortunately, High Lord Gontaut does not know either. He hasn’t been in contact with his merchant connections since Dalex’s visit.”

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  “Are you sure he’s not lying to you?” Hitasa asked.

  “I have been nothing but truthful,” Gontaut said, swiping his hand through the air in a gesture of decisive dismissal of Hitasa’s insinuation.

  Staja raised his eyebrows, which Hitasa took to mean he didn’t know for sure whether the human was being honest. Humans were sometimes sympathetic to elves, at least superficially, but Hitasa had never heard of any who would go out of their way to help an elf if it meant danger or disadvantage might come back to bite them.

  “Could the shipments have been attacked by mutts?” Hitasa asked.

  While Dalex and Seventh had said the mutts were all concentrated to the east of the city, some of the beasts might still have found their way around Batulan-bar to the western regions.

  Metsa finally did something other than glare at Hitasa. She closed her eyes and said, “Unlikely. Ulenbeter would have noticed such an attack by now, and would almost certainly have sent word to us. We have heard nothing from the capital, which has me concerned.”

  The elf matron paused and eyed Gontaut suspiciously. She apparently trusted him as little as her son did. But she continued, saying, “I fear we might be seeing the next stroke of the Wolf Brigade’s retaliation.”

  “I’ve flown back and forth over the city and countryside almost thirty times today,” Hitasa said. “I didn’t see any signs of Wolf Brigade soldiers.” But she had noticed the lack of traffic on the river even before Staja had brought up the issue, and Hitasa hadn’t been sure what to make of it. The roads into and out of the city had seemed quiet as well.

  Metsa went on, “If Castreier and his cronies don’t think they can defeat Dalex in a straight up fight, they wouldn’t need to approach the city to blockade it. As long as they told the surrounding cities and towns to stop trading with us, we would be cut off. He could simply starve Dalex out.”

  Hitasa shook her head. “That wouldn’t do anything to Dalex.”

  “It would affect us,” Staja interjected. “And Dalex has staked a claim to Batulan-bar. They know he cares about what happens to us.”

  “How would we know for sure that it’s blockade?” Hitasa asked. “What if it is just conditions on the river today?”

  Metsa shifted her suspicious eye toward Hitasa. The two elves stared each other down for several seconds, though Hitasa wasn’t sure what the elf matron’s problem was now. Was she about to come back around to the Perhethion family name and using it for recruitment against Hitasa’s wishes?

  Before his mother could say anything, Staja suggested, “We could check at the city gates and see what the status of the roads has been. If river conditions are dangerous, the land routes shouldn’t be affected, but the Wolf Brigade would certainly shut down both ways into the city.

  For the moment, Metsa seemed to forget whatever issue she had with Hitasa. She agreed with her son’s plan and the two of them left Gontaut’s house to pay a visit to the west gate. Most travelers and merchants from Ulenbeter by road would use that gate to enter Batulan-bar. At first, Hitasa stayed behind with Gontaut, debating whether to show him kirtevas now or later.

  But her continued presence made him uncomfortable. In the end, she decided to deal with him later. Hitasa jogged out of his home, chasing after Metsa and Staja. They hadn’t gone far, and she caught up quickly.

  Hitasa matched their stride and announced, “I’m going with you.”

  Staja looked at his mother, expecting some kind of response, but the elf matron only gave a dismissive shrug and kept walking.

  They traveled together in awkward silence. Metsa and Staja didn’t say anything, so Hitasa kept her mouth shut as well. She used the time to organize her thoughts and plan what she would do after finishing her rounds to all the human lords.

  Finally, when they were almost to the west gate after walking in silence for fifteen minutes, Metsa asked, “What did you mean when you said you flew back and forth over the city?”

  “Dalex lent me some of his all-purpose gel,” Hitasa said. “It allows me to use a bit of his power.”

  She didn’t mind sharing this part. It was something she could use to aid the resistance, and, unlike kirtevas, it did not break any taboos.

  “What game are you playing, girl?” Metsa said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you think you know better than I how to fight the dragons?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but yes, maybe a little.”

  Metsa stopped in the middle of the street and faced Hitasa. “Where did you get all of this confidence? You were a scared little girl two days ago.”

  “Mother, please,” Staja tried to break in.

  She waved a hand at him to be quiet. “Hitasa, you know the power of your name. While you wander about the city, playing with Dalex of the Expedition Seven’s toys, you leave thousands of your kin in darkness. You could lead them to the light.”

  “You have no idea what my name means, Metsa. You don’t know where it will lead people. I don’t either, but it certainly isn’t anywhere nice as ‘the light.’ And I’ll remind you, this scared little girl is the reason you and your hunting party aren’t mutt dung in that deep dark den. I brought Dalex to you, and I fought alongside you.”

  “She has a point, Mother,” Staja said.

  Metsa glared at him. “I recognize her contributions.” She turned back to Hitasa. “I also know what more you have to contribute. Do you trust so little that I know what I am doing?”

  Hitasa took a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ve been in this fight a long time. You’ve probably been resisting the humans and dragons far longer than I have been alive. But it is still true that my entire life has been the war. It was bred into me by my mother and father and taught to me by my brother. I can only do what I believe is best to ensure our victory. Yes, Metsa. On the matter of my name, I know better than you.”

  Hitasa left her behind and continued toward the gate. Staja hesitated for a moment, giving his mother a critical look, before jogging to catch up with Hitasa. Eventually, Metsa joined them again.

  When they arrived at the east gate, it was as they had feared. None of the expected merchant trains or peddlers had arrived all day, and traffic from independent travelers was far below normal. The managers of the gate informed Metsa that it was the same at the other gates as well. No one knew what was going on.

  “It can only be a blockade,” Metsa concluded. “They hope to make us suffer for abiding Dalex’s presence.”

  “What supplies does the city have?” Hitasa asked. “How long can we weather containment?”

  Metsa turned to her son for an answer.

  “Not long,” he said. “Batulan-bar relies on a continuous stream of goods from our neighbors. All of the food we grow goes to Ulenbeter and then on to Gaia Zeta. We only eat what comes down the river from the east.” He paused to think. “I only know a little about the city’s stores, but I’d guess we might last a week before we start to go hungry. Maybe twice that with strict rationing. Most people have eaten through their winter stores already.”

  Metsa let out a low growl. “I had hoped for a fight. Dalex can’t help us if we can’t get food into the city.”

  Hitasa was about to agree with her, but she stopped herself. Why wouldn’t Dalex be able to help? Sure, the resistance had asked for his help because of his military power, but Hitasa had seen the breadth of his tools. He didn’t carry around only weapons of war. She had seen him summon water from the sky. What else could he conjure?

  “Hold on,” Hitasa said. “Maybe Dalex can help us.”

  “How?” Staja asked.

  “Why don’t we ask him.”

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