Shadow Scale: A Companion to Seraphina(123)

“The knights and dracomachists were visited by ‘a living Saint,’ ” said Cuthberte bitterly. “Sir Karal told me—joyfully!—that he’d seen the light of Heaven in her, that it was lucky he hadn’t escaped with the rest of us, or he’d have missed his higher purpose.”

“And what is that higher purpose?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“To kill dragons,” said Sir Cuthberte, glaring under his brows like a formidable owl. “All dragons, even Goredd’s allies.”


I tried to make sense of this. If Jannoula was General Laedi, working for the Old Ard, why would she raise an army of Samsamese to fight against the dragons? Did she think they’d kill more Loyalists than Old Ard dragons, or that they’d fight Goredd, too, and weaken us? It reminded me of the Old Ard victories she’d plotted, where so many dragons had died on both sides that victory was hardly the word for it. Did she consider those losses worth it?

The Old Ard seemed to, with their new logic. I felt like I had all the pieces in front of me and couldn’t put them together.

“Anders saw the light of Heaven, too,” Kiggs was saying. “Phina should hear his story.”

Maurizio unfolded his lanky frame and left the tent. He soon returned, leading a callow young dracomachist with a shock of straw-like hair. The fellow had been apprehended in the middle of breakfast; his upper lip was foamy with goat’s milk. He wiped it on his sleeve.

“Squire Anders,” said Sir Cuthberte sternly, drawing his frosty brows down. “This is Seraphina. She wishes to hear about your meeting with the Queen.”

“I delivered your missive, as per your command,” said young Anders, standing stiffly at attention. “An’ I made sure the Queen read it and all. She threw it in the fire and said under no circumstances is Prince Lucian to set foot in the city, and that he could obey his Queen for once in his life, the villain.” The squire paled and nodded courtesy at the prince. “Begging your pardon, Your Highness.”

Kiggs gave a desultory nod and gestured for him to continue.

“What happened as you were leaving?” Sir Cuthberte prompted.

Anders’s expression softened and his gaze grew distant. “Ah, that’s when I saw the living Saint, sir, coming in as I were leaving. She knew my name an’ touched my chin an’ said, ‘Count yourself among the blessed, and take my word to your squadmates.’ And then she … she …”

“Tell the rest,” said Sir Cuthberte.

Anders kicked at the ground with his toe. “No one believes me. If you’ve brought me in so this maidy can laugh at me, I don’t—”

“No, no,” said Sir Maurizio gently, clapping the squire’s shoulder. “She’s well brought up; she’ll wait until you’ve gone.”

“Well,” said Anders, peeking shyly at me, “then I saw the light of Heaven. I swear by St. Prue, it were all around her, glowing like a Speculus lantern, or the moon, or … or like the heart of the whole world.”

I didn’t laugh. I felt a terrible sadness, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Jannoula was preying on the gullible; maybe because even the gullible could see this light that I could not.

“Thank you, Anders, that’s all,” Sir Maurizio said, letting the lad out. The tent flap swung behind him, and Maurizio sat back down.

Kiggs met my eyes, a quiet outrage in his. “How are people taken in by this?” He didn’t say it out loud, but I suspected there was another question behind the first: Do you think Glisselda has been fooled as well?

“I warned the Queen about it,” I said, trying to reassure him. “It’s the ityasaari mind-fire, the stuff they weave St. Abaster’s Trap with.” I waved a hand around my head, as if I had this unseen corona. “Jannoula can make hers visible to humans. That’s how she could influence Josef even though he hates and fears half-dragons.”

Kiggs slapped his thigh. “I knew there had to be a trick to it! She’s no more Saint than you are.”

His words hit me hard; he was right in more senses than he knew, but I couldn’t tell him about Orma’s theory, St. Yirtrudis’s testament, or the Great Mistake. Not now, in front of everyone. I didn’t know how the knights would take it.

I wasn’t sure how Kiggs would take it, either. He’d be interested, I had no doubt, but he was more religious than I was. Would it also be upsetting?

Kiggs, who was studying my expression, said gently, “There was something you needed to tell Selda. What was it?”

I took a deep breath and dove in. “I learned some things about Jannoula at Lab Four. Her uncle, General Palonn—is that a name you’re familiar with?”

Sir Cuthberte nodded solemnly. “He’s the Old Ard’s most aggressive general. Likely to be the next Ardmagar, if and when they finish the current one off.”

I grimaced. “Palonn gave Jannoula to the Censors as an infant, and they experimented on her.” There was a sharp intake of breath around the tent. I continued: “The Old Ard learned she was a talented strategist. They nicknamed her General Laedi.”

“The butcher of Homand-Eynn?” said Sir Cuthberte incredulously.

“And she’s in the palace with Selda!” cried Kiggs, who seemed ready to leap up and storm the gates of Lavondaville himself.