Shadow Scale: A Companion to Seraphina(132)

Jannoula’s lips parted; she looked convincingly innocent. “What was it?”

“The dragons claim you work for them, that you devised the Old Ard’s strategies and advised their generals. They nicknamed you General Lady,” I said, surreptitiously observing the room. The half-dragons did not react to the news, but many council members were whispering among themselves, looking disturbed. Glisselda remained impassive.

I held my breath, imagining Kiggs holding his, too. Would Queen and council question Jannoula about this alarming information? Were they so besotted with her that they’d excuse her every transgression?

“Blessed Jannoula,” said the Queen, her high voice piercing the councilors’ growing grumble. “Seraphina implies that you’re the Tanamoot’s spy.”

For the briefest instant, Jannoula met my gaze with steely coldness, but then her green eyes widened. “Your Majesty,” she said warmly, “it pains me to say that Seraphina’s charge is true, if incomplete and imperfectly understood. Dragons held me prisoner my entire life. My mother, the dragon Abind, returned pregnant to the Tanamoot and died in childbirth. My uncle, General Palonn, donated me to Lab Four as an infant.”

I expected her to show her scarred forearms again, the way she had in Samsam, but she was unlacing her bodice, baring the middle of her torso. The council gasped in horror; she turned to face the Queen, who neither flinched nor looked away. A long, purpled scar ran down Jannoula’s body, from her breastbone to somewhere below her navel.

“They opened me up,” she said, her eyes locked on me, as she refastened her gown. “They filled my blood with poisons, taught me physics and languages, ran me through mazes, determined how long I can last without food or warmth. I died twice; they brought me back to life with lightning.

“When my mother birthed me, I wept. When I was reborn, I raged. My third awakening made me realize I was meant to be in this world. I could not leave until I had discovered my purpose and fulfilled it.”

She turned with a graceful whirl of skirts, like a dancer, clasped her hands to her heart, and continued: “One day, one of my kind—our own St. Seraphina—found me and gave me hope. I learned I had a people.”

I glanced out at the ityasaari: Dame Okra, Phloxia, Lars, Ingar, Od Fredricka, Brasidas, the twins. They smiled; I couldn’t bear to look.

“From that day forth,” Jannoula was saying, “all my energies focused on escape. If that meant convincing my uncle to trust me by devising strategies for the Old Ard, then that’s what I did. I won them victories, yes, but each came at terrible cost. I saw to that.”

I had noted this before. I hoped Kiggs was paying attention.

“My only purpose, my single-minded goal,” said Jannoula, her voice high and clear, “was to come to Goredd, the home of my dearest sister. I would have moved Heaven to do it.”

There wasn’t a dry eye among the councilors, old and young alike. The Queen dabbed subtly at her own with a lace-edged handkerchief; the ityasaari wept openly. Jannoula stepped toward me, took my hand in her cold fingers, and raised it triumphantly, as if we were dear friends reunited at last; only I could feel how hard she clenched my hand.

“O brethren!” she cried. “Let this be a day of rejoicing.”


And with that, still clamping my hand like a crab, she strode up the carpet toward the far end of the chamber, dragging me with her. Behind us the council broke out in heartfelt applause. Jannoula waved without turning around and said nothing more until we were out in the corridor, walking swiftly through the palace.

She flung my hand away. “What was that?” she said through her teeth. “An attempt to discredit me? A little something you thought everyone should know?”

“I really do want to help you,” I said. I meant it, though probably not the way she hoped. “I saw your old cell at Lab Four, your fur suit on the peg behind the door. I know what they did to you.” The thought of the place made my throat tighten. “The dragons told me you were still theirs, though.”

She stopped short. “I am not theirs. I have never been theirs,” she snarled. “The unbearable arrogance of dragons! They will learn soon enough.”

“Will they, indeed?” I said. “How do you intend to teach them?”

She spread her arms. “Look around you. Find one thing I’ve sabotaged. The Goreddi war effort is the stronger for my presence, I promise you. Lars and Blanche are perfecting the war engines; Mina is teaching new sword techniques; my artists are inspiring the people. St. Abaster’s Trap was full of holes; I’ve fixed it. Goredd needed me, and I am here.”

“And Orma?” I said. “I was promised he’d be here.”

Her expression darkened. “You’ll see him when I decide you may.”

“You underestimate my stubbornness,” I said.

Jannoula leaned into my face, lowering her voice to a vicious whisper: “You overestimate my patience. Let me make one thing clear: I could dismantle you before the whole world. I could persuade any of those simpering courtiers to knife you, or each other, or themselves. Bear that in mind.”

I raised my hands, conceding, and she nodded grimly. “Come on,” she said, not reaching for my hand again. “I’ll show you the Garden of the Blessed.”



The Ard Tower, where Glisselda and I had waited for Eskar, was now home to the collected ityasaari. It loomed, dramatically tall, at the western end of the palace complex; the belfry at its top, bellfree for many years, had once warned the citizens of Lavondaville that it was time to take to the tunnels under the city.