CHAPTER 7.

"Where is Andrei?" Celestine demanded. She had left Jagu alone with Andrei over the remains of their meal for only a few minutes while she collected a letter from the customs house, and now there was no sign of the prince.

"He went out for a walk along the jetty. Said he needed time to think. He's still cut up over the old man's death."

"How could you let him out of your sight?" Sometimes she did not understand Jagu at all.

Jagu sighed and pointed out of the window. The sun was setting over Haeven and had half sunk beneath the low clouds, illuminating the western horizon with a vivid dazzle of stormy gold. A lone figure stood silhouetted against the evening light. "He's not our prisoner, Celestine. We can't keep him confined."

"But if anyone were to recognize him-"

"Prince Andrei always went clean-shaven. With that fisherman's beard, no one will give him a second look."

"I'll go give this letter to him."

"Better wrap up, then. The air is damp tonight and you don't want to catch a chill before Swanholm."

She stuck out her tongue at him. Why did he have to treat her like a child? "As if I'd be so foolish..."

"What a dramatic sunset," Celestine said as she approached Andrei. "You're an experienced sailor; does such a sky herald another storm?"

"No," he said. He seemed distant, hardly turning to acknowledge her presence. "The weather can prove fickle off these sh.o.r.es, even for the most experienced sailor."

"I have news for you from King Enguerrand." She handed him a sealed letter.

He broke the seal and stared at the strange dashes and symbols, perplexed. "Is this some new Francian alphabet? It means nothing to me."

"It's encrypted," Celestine said, unable to repress a smile at his evident confusion. "Don't worry; Jagu has the key at the tavern." She slipped her hand beneath his arm. "Let's go back now before I catch cold out here and ruin my voice."

To our royal cousin, Andrei Orlov of Muscobar, from Enguerrand of Francia:We are most heartily relieved to hear of your miraculous rescue. Please rest a.s.sured that news of your survival will not be revealed until you judge the time is right to do so.We extend the hand of friendship to you and a.s.sure you of a warm welcome at our royal court. We also have new intelligence of events that took place toward the end of last year, which will both disturb and intrigue you.Our representative in New Rossiya, Amba.s.sador d'Abrissard, has some proposals to make, which we believe will be to our mutual benefit...

Andrei was rowed out through a brisk dawn breeze to meet with Fabien d'Abrissard aboard ship.

"Eugene's agents are everywhere," the amba.s.sador said as he welcomed Andrei into his paneled stateroom in the stern. "Here, at least, we are on Francian territory. Coffee to warm you this chilly morning?"

"Thank you." The square windowpanes afforded a view over the Straits: an expanse of rain-grey sea and pale clouds.

The amba.s.sador clicked his fingers and his butler poured Andrei coffee in a delicate white-and-gold cup. After living so long in a poor fisherman's cottage, Andrei had grown unused to such refinements and handled the flimsy china nervously.

"And our guest might appreciate a dash of brandy." Had Abrissard seen his hands tremble? The amba.s.sador's expression gave nothing away; although his lips smiled at Andrei, his manner was cool and detached. The butler added a measure of brandy to Andrei's cup and discreetly withdrew, closing the door softly behind him. For a moment the only sound was the lapping of the water against the ship as it bobbed gently at anchor.

"Were you aware that the power behind Eugene's empire is one Kaspar Linnaius, a renegade scientist, wanted for crimes in Francia?" Abrissard asked.

Andrei shook his head.

"We have reason to believe that this same Kaspar Linnaius was responsible for the sinking of your ship."

"Sinking the Sirin? Sirin? But how? She went down in a storm." But how? She went down in a storm."

"A storm that came out of nowhere on a calm night? A similar event occurred some years ago in the reign of Prince Karl, when the Francian fleet was wrecked by a disastrous storm."

"But what possible proof could you have?" burst out Andrei.

"The testimonies furnished by two of Linnaius's fellow mages some years back, under torture," said Abrissard smoothly. "They confirmed that this self-styled Magus can command and control the winds."

"But... that's preposterous."

"We have a witness. The night of the storm, one of the grooms at the Palace of Swanholm confirms that he saw Linnaius create a storm that brought down trees in the parkland. I should emphasize that this intelligence is of the highest confidentiality."

Andrei sat back, trying to grasp the full implications of what Abrissard was saying.

"This should not be so difficult for you to accept, Andrei Orlov," said Abrissard in the softest, smoothest of voices. "You, who have been touched by a daemon."

"You're implying that Eugene ordered Linnaius to sink my ship? Doesn't that count as a.s.sa.s.sination?" At first, the news had left him stunned; then anger began to burn through.

Abrissard shrugged eloquently. "In war, such terms do not apply."

"And my sister has married this man!" Andrei could sit still no longer; he rose and strode to the window to gaze out at the sea. A watery sun had begun to show beneath the clouds, catching the tops of the waves with flecks of silvery gold.

"You're an ambitious young man, Andrei Orlov. Do you care about the future of Muscobar?"

"Of course I do!" Andrei said hotly.

"Then come to Francia. King Enguerrand a.s.sures you of the warmest welcome at his court. He has great plans for the future. Those plans will include you, if you wish."

Andrei turned and stared at Abrissard. He heard what the amba.s.sador was saying, yet not putting into words. Francia had old scores to settle with Tielen.

"And Astasia?"

Abrissard's proud gaze grew colder. "Your sister has committed herself to Eugene. It may be difficult to persuade her to change her allegiance."

"Your amba.s.sador asked me to give you this." Andrei handed a sealed letter to Celestine.

"Thank you." Celestine felt a little shiver of excitement as she took it from him, recognizing from the firm handwriting that it came from Ruaud de Lanvaux. If the Maistre had given his blessing to her plan, then she would need all her courage and ingenuity to try to entrap the Magus. She was desperately eager to open it straightaway, but because of the sensitive nature of its subject matter, she retired to her room to read the Maistre's instructions.

Yet when she broke the seal, she found the message inside was frustratingly brief: "Do whatever you judge is necessary to achieve your goal; but be discreet-and above all, be very careful. Extra funds will follow to cover any necessary expenses."

"So here you are at last!" A ginger-haired man came into the room, shaking the raindrops from his greatcoat.

"Kilian!" Jagu rose and hurried over to give him a welcoming hug. "What brings you to Tielen?"

"I've been chasing across half the quadrant to catch up with you two. Don't you ever stay more than a couple of days in one place?"

"And now you've found us," said Celestine, a little tartly. She had never entirely warmed to Kilian Guyomard's joshing manner. Yet because he and Jagu had been friends since their schooldays, she forced herself to put up with his banter.

"What brings me to this G.o.dforsaken country?" Kilian threw his wet coat down. "Since you failed so spectacularly in your mission to persuade the monks of Kerjhenezh to part with their sacred treasure, I'm here to ensure that the Staff is safely returned to the Forteresse."

Celestine opened her mouth to make a sharp retort but then thought better of it; she sensed that Kilian would have liked nothing better than to revel in her discomfort.

"Any chance of a drop of aquavit? I'm frozen." Kilian went over to the grate to warm his hands at the blaze. She poured a gla.s.s and handed it to him. He took a sip and nodded. "Ahh; that's better. Did you know that our agents have just learned of an intriguing turn of events? Lord Nagarian has escaped from Arnskammar Asylum." He took another slow sip.

Celestine caught Jagu's startled glance. "Does that mean that the Drakhaoul of Azhkendir has returned to protect its first master?" she said. "Was that where it was going when we saw it in the Straits?"

"Who knows?" replied Kilian with a wry smile. "Except that Arnskammar is supposed to be impregnable. No one has ever escaped from there before-and lived to tell the tale. Imagine the Emperor's expression when he was told the news..."

She left the two old school friends to reminisce and went to check on their royal guest, who was receiving the attentions of the local barber.

The barber had washed and cut Andrei's wild, salt-stiffened tangle of dark hair and was tr.i.m.m.i.n.g his beard to an elegant style suitable for a man-about-town.

"The barber's done a good job," she said as Andrei looked critically at his reflection in a hand gla.s.s. "You look quite respectable now."

"Though I hear the n.o.bles of the imperial court are going cleanshaven these days, like the Emperor."

"But the beard helps to preserve your anonymity," she reminded him.

He suddenly put the mirror down and got up, pacing the room like a caged animal. "All this waiting around is making me restless."

"Jagu's still occupied with the amba.s.sador's business," she said. "Perhaps you could escort me about town?" It was important to keep Andrei busy in case, in his frustration, he did something rash and spoiled their plans. "With all these foreign sailors in port, I confess I'm a little nervous to venture out alone." How odd that false declaration sounded to her ears; hadn't she just traveled to Azhkendir and back disguised as a boy? She was glad that Jagu was not present to hear her play the role of the defenseless woman.

"I'm glad to be of use," Andrei said eagerly.

*#x00A0;*#x00A0;*#x00A0; "Spring comes so much later in the north," Celestine said to Andrei, as the cherry blossom petals came fluttering down, blanketing the street with a covering of delicate pink snow. The squall had finally blown away and thin, misty clouds were parting to reveal blue sky behind.

A stroll was just the excuse she needed to draw more information from Andrei. Something in his story had been troubling her. "That spirit we saw. It was terrifying. A daemon." She chose her words with care; at present he knew her only as a singer, not as a member of an elite team of exorcists. "Yet you say it healed you of your injuries and restored your memory. That doesn't seem like the action of an evil spirit."

"It gave me courage. Confidence in myself." He stopped, gazing up into the clearing sky as if unconsciously searching for a lingering trace of its presence. "When it made itself a... a part of me, I felt so strong. As if I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. Now that it's gone, I feel... empty."

He could almost be describing what she had experienced when the Faie had left her body to return to the book. She looked at him with fresh sympathy. He had been possessed by the Drakhaoul, a daemon spirit that had wreaked unimaginable destruction, and yet it had used him kindly. Was there some kinship between the Faie and the Drakhaouls?

"Forgive me for unburdening myself to you. I've had so much on my mind since..." Andrei glanced at her, with the hint of an intimate smile.

His eyes are so warm when he smiles. "You must have been so lonely, all those long months after your memories returned." It was difficult not to feel sympathy for his current predicament. "You must have been so lonely, all those long months after your memories returned." It was difficult not to feel sympathy for his current predicament.

"Not so lonely as when I returned to Mirom and walked the streets of my home as a stranger. It's a very peculiar sensation to stand in front of your own memorial and see your name engraved there with the dates of your short, insignificant life beside those of your dead friends and crewmates..." The haunted look had clouded his eyes again. "I felt like a ghost."

"Well, will you look over there!" Kilian nudged Jagu, pointing across the square. "Isn't that your charming partner?" Jagu looked and saw Celestine walking along the gravel path beneath the cherry trees with Andrei Orlov, one hand resting on his arm. The two seemed absorbed in their conversation, Celestine's golden head raised so that she could gaze attentively up at him.

"They seem to be getting on rather well, wouldn't you say?" There was an all-too-familiar hint of malice in Kilian's words. Jagu decided to ignore the sly dig, designed, he knew, to provoke him.

"Our orders are to gain as much information from him as possible. Celestine has a talent for putting people at their ease..." How lame it sounded. He couldn't even convince himself. "I'm content just to be with her. Near her. I don't ask for more."

"Such admirable self-restraint. Such a n.o.ble lack of self-interest. Most people would say that you're deluding yourself."

What possible satisfaction could Kilian get out of goading him, like this? Jagu wondered. "Must you always see things from your own peculiarly warped perspective?" Jagu wondered. "Must you always see things from your own peculiarly warped perspective?"

"Only a d.a.m.ned fool would let himself be tormented day after day by a love that can never be fulfilled."

Was there more of an edge to Kilian's words than usual? Or did they seem sharper because of the raw wind off the Straits that suddenly stirred the cherry branches, dislodging the last tender blossoms?

"What, precisely, do you mean by-" Jagu began, but Kilian interrupted him.

"My ship leaves tomorrow on the dawn tide. I need those reports for the Maistre from you both-even if you have to stay up into the small hours to complete them."

Jagu went down to the docks in the dark before dawn to see Kilian off. It seemed odd to be handing Sergius's Staff into his care after so many months. It had made him feel strangely secure, as if the saint's presence had been protecting and guiding them.

"I fear the Maistre will be disappointed," Jagu said as they approached the harbor.

"Did you really think those old monks would give up their sacred treasure to a rival order?"

Jagu shook his head.

"It was a valuable reconnaissance mission. You mapped the coastline. You found the pilgrim trails through the forest to the monastery. Now we know what we're up against." There was no hint of jesting in Kilian's tone anymore.

"So we're not giving up?"

"It's the king's will," Kilian said. "Enguerrand has some grand project in mind. You may find yourself on the way back to Azhkendir very soon."

Jagu groaned. "I don't think I could endure the smell of herring again."

As they walked on, a crowd of Tielen sailors went hurrying past, moving in the direction of the naval dockyards.

"Something's up," said Kilian.

"Kilian! Jagu!" Celestine came running after them. "Have you heard the news? There's been a big sea battle off the coast of Smarna. It sounds as if Eugene's Southern Fleet has suffered a significant defeat."

"But the Smarnans have only a handful of warships," said Jagu. "How could so few overcome such a powerful navy?"

"Who knows?" said Kilian. "As long as they don't fire on my ship home, I couldn't give a d.a.m.n. And here she is, the Azenor." Azenor." He stopped alongside the three-master, which was bustling with crewmen, making ready for the crossing to Francia. He stopped alongside the three-master, which was bustling with crewmen, making ready for the crossing to Francia.

"G.o.dspeed, then, and an uneventful voyage." Jagu gave Kilian a hug and placed the metal Staff in his hands. "And take good care of the Staff."

"You know you can rely on me," said Kilian.

"Tell the Maistre," added Celestine, "that we're going after the big fish, big fish, as he instructed; we may need extra support." as he instructed; we may need extra support."

"By all the saints, you're formidable when you set your mind on something, Celestine. I'd hate to be on the opposing side!" Kilian feigned a shudder, a teasing light glinting in his green eyes.

"My Southern Fleet has been attacked by the Drakhaoul of Azh kendir." Eugene paced the Magus's laboratory, his hands clasped behind his back. Linnaius said nothing; it was best, he had learned from experience, to let the Emperor vent his rage first before offering any kind of counsel. "What will Lord Gavril attack next? Swanholm? We must make our move now, Linnaius." Eugene stopped and stabbed his finger at the chart that lay open on the table. "We must go to Ty Nagar and find this legendary Serpent Gate. I will summon a Drakhaoul of my own."

"Are you certain this is the only solution?" Bringing a second Drakhaoul into the world seemed to Linnaius too drastic a response.

"Why wait any longer? I have the key, the Eye of Nagar." "But if you succeed in opening the Serpent Gate, can you be certain that only one Drakhaoul will come to your call?"

Eugene looked up at him, a gleam in his eyes. "I can't. But should such a thing happen, I shall be relying on you, Kaspar, to close the Serpent Gate before the others can escape."