Gideon nodded. “And if saying ‘please’ doesn’t work, we’ll ask again, but with a little lightning and perhaps a few of Sephonie’s arrows.”

“How are you on ammo?”

He pulled away, and night air blew between us, cooling my simmering blood. “We got to Inselgrau nearly three days before you, and we had some of Brahm’s money left. We’ve put it to good use.”

“Did you buy me an army?” In Isolas we’d had barely enough money left to hire a couple of good mercenaries, but perhaps Gideon had worked a miracle.

“We’ve tried to get you something better than an army.” He reached into his back pocket, tugged out a sheet of parchment, and unfolded it.

In the gloom I couldn’t make out the words, so I stepped closer to the hut to catch the light from the windows. In simple black lines Malita had rendered an accurate sketch of my face—I recognized the drawing as her style. But the Evie on the paper looked regal, brave, and confident. She wore a crown of jagged diamonds that resembled lightning. In bold letters beneath my countenance someone had printed the words:

ALL HAIL THE QUEEN

The Lady of Thunder has returned

Let your prayers be set before her like incense

Let your faith in her renew this land.

All believers worship

And your conviction shall restore her,

This Daughter of the Gods of Thunder

This Rightful Heir to the Throne of Inselgrau.

My breath seized in my chest. My mind spun as I tried to grasp the implications of what I was reading. They hadn’t been gathering fighters. They’d been gathering believers.

He cleared his throat and scrubbed his jaw, suddenly bashful. “Brigette helped me with the wording. I’m not very, um... poetic. We’ve distributed them everywhere we’ve been since we got to Inselgrau. Gerda has passed them through the surrounding villages. There are underground networks here, Evie—people still devoted to the Stormbournes. Gerda has been feeding their faith, telling them of your exploits on the Continent.”

“How would she know what I’ve been doing?”

He glanced away. “I... I might have been sending her regular communications.”

All my earlier confidence drained away. Building new worlds was a grand idea in theory, but in reality, every decision I was about to make would affect thousands of people. That was no romantic, heroic gesture, but hard, cold reality. “What if...?”

“What if what?” His brow crinkled. He grasped my arm, gaze scanning my face.

“What if they don’t believe? What if the people don’t want me?”

“I can tell you what the people of Inselgrau don’t want. They don’t want Le Poing Fermé. If you can take the cabal away, the people will be yours.”

“I can’t fail them, Gideon.”

“You won’t.” He brushed a kiss against my temple. “I believe in you too much for you to fail.”

By the time we’d returned to the hut, everyone had slipped off to sleep, even Jackie still sitting upright against the wall. I blew out the lamps, leaving a single flickering candle to light the room as Gideon and I squeezed together onto the rug beside Malita and Niffin and snuggled beneath a blanket from Adaleiz’s saddlebag. He stroked my back, and despite the calming influence of his touch, I couldn’t sleep.

Soon we’d march on Fallstaff.

Soon, win or lose, everything would change.

Dear gods, please don’t let me fail.

They’ve brought you this far, Grandfather said. Have faith that they’ll carry you the rest of the way.

Chapter 28

I awoke to the sounds of distant explosions, not sure, at first, if it was nothing more than the remnants of a dream—fitful visions of sea squalls, fire balls, gunfire, and the weight of an ocean pressing against my lungs, drowning me in deep, black waters. But the lingering cobwebs of my nightmares disappeared the moment I opened my eyes and saw that the space Jackie had formerly occupied was now empty.

I sprang to my feet, cursing. “Where in the Shadowlands has that damned Magician gone?”

“What...?” Brigette said, her voice thick from sleep. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as she glanced around the one-room hut, searching the corners as if Jackie might have hidden himself behind a broom or a chair. “I... it’s possible... perhaps I lost my hold on him in the night. He’d been straining against his bonds all evening. I was too tired—”

I waved my hand, dismissing her apology. “Even you, Brigette, are allowed the occasional moment of weakness.”

Gideon burst through the doorway, and only then did I realize he wasn’t still sleeping under the covers on our floor pallet. “I think it’s safe to say the Council has arrived. Fallstaff’s under attack.”

Another distant detonation punctuated his statement.

“Where were you?” I asked.

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to patrol.”

“What are we going to do?” Brigette asked.

“I am going to go fight for my kingdom.” I squatted on the floor and slipped on my boots. “But the rest of you.... I’m offering you one more chance to leave.” Malita had sat up and was retying her scarf around her hair. I caught her gaze and held it. “A queen has the right to ask, right? Just as you all have the right to accept. Or refuse.” I switched my focus to Niffin, whose face was a bit puffy and slack from sleep, but his violet eyes turned sharp under my attention. “Will you stay and fight with me?” Finally, I turned to Gideon. Warmth had turned his granite eyes to the soft gray of the fogs and mists on the Inselgrish moors. “This country is not your homeland. None of you are natives. This is not your war, and I am not your queen.”

I finished tying up my boots, stood, and clenched my hands together over my heart. “Le Poing Fermé doesn’t take prisoners. According to Gideon, they’ve killed anyone who challenges their authority. If you fight with me, you’re all risking your lives. I’m not sure—” My throat clenched, words catching on my dry tongue. I swallowed. Swallowed again. “If anything happens to any of you, I’m not sure how I’ll live with knowing you died fighting for me. So now’s your chance. If you want to leave...” I motioned to the door. “That you’ve been by my side this long is more than I could have ever hoped for. It’s hard for me to ask any of you for more.”

Gideon answered by snorting and rolling his eyes. Niffin shook his head, pursed his lips, and flopped back to the floor, pulling the covers over his head and pretending to snore. Malita continued arranging her scarf as if I hadn’t just poured out my greatest fears.

Brigette stood and clapped melodramatically. “Nice speech. But you might want to think about hiring a professional for the next one. If you were hoping to talk us into leaving, then you should know your skills of persuasion could use some work.”

I huffed, folding my arms over my chest. “This isn’t a joking matter.”

She chuckled. “Then quit being so funny.”

Before I could protest, the hut door swung open, and Gerda stepped in, bringing a cloud of mouthwatering odors with her. She shoved aside Gideon’s crossbow and bandoliers, plopped a huge basket on the table, and set her hands on her hips. “I heard the commotion. I’ve packed you breakfast for the road.”

Brigette peeked into the hamper, selected a blueberry muffin, and consumed the whole thing in two huge bites. Dread and fear had already filled my stomach, weighting it as though I’d swallowed a boulder.

Gerda frowned at me. “Figured you might not have much of an appetite, my dear, but try your best. You can’t face your enemies on an empty stomach.”

“In the history books it will say...” Brigette waved her second muffin like a baton. “And the ill-fated insurrection against Le Poing Fermé might have succeeded, if the pretender queen had but listened to her nursemaid and eaten a nutritious breakfast. But alas, her empty stomach resulted in her premature defeat.”

“Better than the history books saying I failed because I was too busy throwing up.” Because I could no longer keep my hands from shaking and craved a distraction, I gathered Adaleiz’s tack and went out to saddle her.