“And the children… He forces them to forge castings, and he controls their minds while they do it. It’s perverse. It isn’t right. And the castings the children make—some are for themselves, and some are designed to fit the beasts, like a set of armor shared between child and monster, and… Your Majesties, I think he means to make an army of them. Elemental children with their minds under his control, them and their beasts armored in bound castings. I don’t understand how, but… These beasts, they can fling fire just as the children that ride them do. The children shake the earth and bend swords, and so do their beasts, same as any elemental. As if child and beast were one creature, split into two bodies.”

“This is impossible,” muttered the Grand Magister of the Baths, wringing her freckled hands. “You saw wrong.”

“I don’t see wrong.” Jazan wiped his eyes with bandaged fingers. The wounds he had sustained were minimal.

And this disturbed Audric most of all.

“Why did he let you live?” Audric asked.

“He wasn’t even there. Not really. Not in body.” Jazan thumped his chest hard. “Not like this. He was off somewhere else in the world, and his generals were running things in his absence. But I heard him.” Jazan nodded, laughing a little. His tears spilled over. “I heard him. I’m his messenger. He wants you to know what is coming for you.”

“What did he say?” Audric leaned forward. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s in Patria,” said Ludivine.

Everyone turned to face her. She sat pale and still, her hands clasped on the table. She met Audric’s gaze and held it. “He brought Rielle to Patria. They’re after the saints’ castings. When they left Celdaria, they had three of them. Now, they have four.”

Audric briefly closed his eyes. Of course Rielle would still be searching for the castings—now, perhaps, to open the Gate instead of repair it.

Several people around the table drew in sharp breaths.

“She has Saint Marzana’s shield,” Audric said quietly, remembering. “Saint Grimvald’s hammer.”

“Saint Tokazi’s staff,” Kamayin added. She did not speak of the Obex Rielle had slaughtered to obtain the staff, but Audric saw the memory on her grim face.

“And now, Saint Ghovan’s arrow,” Ludivine concluded, her expression grave.

“And once she has found all seven,” he added, every word heavy on his tongue, “their power may be enough for her to do with the Gate as she pleases.”

A hush fell over the room.

Queen Fozeyah glared at Ludivine. “How do you know they are in Patria?”

She hesitated. “I tried to speak to Rielle. I reached out to her. I…I saw her.”

Shock jolted Audric. “Is she hurt? Is she well?”

“She’s not hurt,” Ludivine said slowly. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Stop speaking in riddles and tell us the truth,” he snapped.

Ludivine’s calm was maddening. “Her connection to the empirium is much stronger now than it was weeks ago. I was stunned to sense the change in her. It was as though I’d been thrust into some raging golden fire.”

Then, a pause. A tiny flinch that Audric was viciously glad to see. He hoped it meant she was hurting in some way that would never heal, just as he was.

“Her power is rising fast,” Ludivine finished, “and I don’t know how much longer she will be able to control it.”

The silence was terrible. Audric leaned heavily against the table, ran his hands through his hair.

For the first time in weeks, he reached out to Ludivine’s mind, clumsy and desperate. Is she afraid?

Yes. Ludivine’s voice was a mere whisper of thought. And she aches for home.

Audric pushed back from the table and went to the nearest window. He shut his eyes against the cheerful morning, the lush palace grounds, and tried not to imagine Rielle alone in an unfamiliar country, Corien whispering promises in her ear and the empirium burning her alive from the inside out.

Unfortunately, his imagination had always been spectacular.

“Besides the dragons and the children and whatever unholy beasts they’ve made,” said Sloane, her voice brimming with anger, “how many troops does he have at his disposal?”

“By my last count, five hundred angelic soldiers,” Jazan replied, his voice hollow.

“More will come,” said Ludivine quietly. “When Rielle opens the Gate, there will be millions.”

“If she opens the Gate,” the Grand Magister of the Pyre pointed out.

“But there are others,” Jazan continued. He pulled restlessly at the hems of his sleeves. “Thousands of humans. The angels control them.”

Audric turned back to the table, his heart sinking as he began to understand. “He did that to the Sauvillier soldiers the day of the fire trial. He controlled them, turned them against their own people.”

“Their eyes were gray,” Sloane breathed, her gaze distant. She was remembering, just as Audric was. “Gray and empty, like a fog had fallen inside them.”

“The angels call them adatrox,” Jazan said. “His generals travel the world collecting them. Thousands of them. They slip inside their minds and remake them as they see fit. They tell them what to do, and the adatrox must do it. I don’t think they even know what they’re doing. I hope they don’t know.” Jazan’s face fell, lined with shadows. “The things the angels made them do to each other…the things the angels made them do to us…”

He collapsed into sobs, and after Kamayin called for her handmaidens to escort him to the palace’s hospital wing, Queen Bazati turned to her and spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

“I have many questions for you, my daughter,” she said, her voice low.

“Three years ago, I recruited two dozen spies,” Kamayin said, facing her mothers with a defiant gleam in her eyes. “The Starlings. They’re very good. Better than your spies, Mama. Don’t worry. I fund them myself.”

Queen Fozeyah’s mouth twitched, but the smile did not meet her eyes. “How enterprising of you.”

“Every princess deserves her own private order of spies,” Kamayin said, bristling. “When I heard of the missing children in Kirvaya, I had to send out my birds. And it’s a good thing I did. Now we know what we’re facing.”

General Rakallo, the decorated commander who had greeted Audric on the beach, scowled in her chair. “Yes, now we know, and now everything is changed.”