Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(49)

“Surely, you do not suppose that those miserable creatures could be spies? I’m told they practically kiss Elsiran soil when they arrive,” Nirall replied.

“Never forget their witchcraft,” said Calladeen. “This Earthsong they possess is dangerous. What is to stop them from bringing down a violent storm or a rockslide or a fire? We cannot afford to let our guard down.”

Jack simmered just below a full boil. He’d never understood what Alariq saw in Calladeen. “Earthsong also healed me. On more than one occasion. And the number of refugees who even have their Songs is small. The True Father has drained many of his populace of their power. Is there a chance that there are spies among them? Yes. But does that mean we turn our backs on those seeking aid?” Jack shook his head. “A Lagrimari man is the only reason the coming attack is not a surprise. Instead of treating the refugees as enemy agents, we should be trying to learn from them, gaining additional intelligence, and working together to find a way to stop the True Father.”

“That is a naive way of looking at things, Your Grace,” Calladeen said haughtily. “The Lagrimari are not tacticians. Additional intelligence has never defeated them. Superior force, training, and discipline have done that for nearly five hundred years.”

“Things are changing, Minister Calladeen. My time embedded with the enemy showed me that. We are on the cusp of something different.”

“Perhaps your time with the enemy has changed you, Your Grace,” Pugeros said. Every head turned to him. “The Lagrimari girl staying in the palace?”

Heads swiveled back to Jack, who gritted his teeth. “She is Elsiran-born. She has Elsiran kin, and in this city.”

“Perhaps it would be better for her to reside with them instead of here. She may be as you say, but the appearance of the situation is less than ideal,” said Pugeros.

“The situation is not up for discussion.” Jack shot to his feet. “Order the voluntary evacuation of the borderlands. Stevenot, review my request for wartime funds and find the money. Both for the army and the refugees. No excuses. Minister Nirall, as there are many children in the camps, begin plans for educating them and teaching them our language. Gentleman, these are war refugees fleeing the most brutal dictator our world has ever seen. We are honorable Elsirans. Let’s start behaving as such.”

He slammed out of the room amidst a chorus of grumbles and stalked down the hall.




Jack slipped into the side corridor and over to the unused back passageways. A steep staircase, coated in dust, took him up to the roof of the palace. He’d come here often as a child to escape the tense misery unfolding between his parents and to take in the spectacular view.

The palace sat at Rosira’s highest point, backing up to the steep rise of jagged mountains separating the capital from the rest of the country. In the distance, the ocean sparkled in the afternoon light. Beyond the endless waves lay worlds he couldn’t fathom. Then again, he was having enough trouble understanding his home country.

The formal jacket he’d worn to the Council meeting chafed at his neck; he pulled on the collar. How was he going to do this for the rest of his life?

He stood there regarding the city for so long that the sun began its evening journey home. A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his musings.

“Found my hiding place, did you, old man?” he said, turning around.

Usher smiled. “Not very difficult since it hasn’t changed in fifteen years.”

“What can I say, I’m a man of habit.” Jack shrugged then sighed, leaning back against the railing. “Why am I called a prince if I can make no moves without the assent of the Council? And why do they oppose me at every turn?” He dropped his head into his hand.

“They will come around,” Usher said, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

Jack snorted. “They treat me like a child. I’m four years older than Alariq was when he took office.”

“And I’m sure they treated him the same.”

“I doubt it. I’m almost certain he never had to threaten to use Prince’s Right to get the Council to take action. Those old men are so stubborn and callous—”

Usher straightened. “I don’t recall Alariq doing quite this much whining.”

Jack frowned.

“If you’re quite done with your tantrum, young sir, you have dinner with General Verados in an hour.”

He had neither been whining nor having a tantrum, but the old man was right: he’d never seen Alariq moping about. Duty was duty, and there was little he could do now but square his shoulders and steel himself to step back into his role. Perhaps he could get some advice from the retired general on his strategy for dealing with Lagrimar.

He followed Usher to the far side of the roof, where the proper entrance was, though he missed a step, stumbling when he saw a massive shape covered in a tarp.

Usher followed his line of sight and sighed.

“I thought it was destroyed,” Jack said through gritted teeth.

“Only the front of the craft sustained any damage. The day after the crash, technicians arrived from Yaly to repair it.”

Jack approached the contraption and began pulling the tarp down.

“It’s been fully inspected. You don’t have to—”

“I just want to see it.” With a final tug, the tarp fell away, revealing the airship his brother had died in.