Second Guard (30 page)

Tali frowned. Good news or bad news? she wondered, though the next thought brought a smile to her face.
Brindl learned to write!
She would have to compliment her friend on the
loveliness of her hand tomorrow. She slipped the note inside the cover of a book and collapsed on the bed in a heap, too tired to undress. It would be light before she knew it, and Tali did not
plan to lose even a moment of sleep.

A few short hours later, Tali scrambled out of bed and slipped on her boots, knocking an elbow against the door in her effort to move faster. It was past dawn and she should have been on the
roof already. She dug quickly through the pack under her bed to retrieve Xiomara’s letter, then rushed into the hallway, down the stairs, and up another set that led to the roof. She raced up
the steps two by two and soon caught up with Zarif and Chey, who trudged upward at a much slower pace. They greeted her with tired faces, though Zarif had taken time to change his clothes and wash
himself, she noticed. Chey looked as bedraggled as she did, and she almost laughed at the sight of him.

Intiq was well and truly master of the sky by the time they reached the pebbly surface of the roof and made their way to the aviary. The morning air was still and silent.

Chey frowned. “I’ve never heard it so quiet up here.”

“Maybe the birds slept late this morning, like the rest of us,” Tali joked, yet a feeling of unease had come over her. Something wasn’t right. Why weren’t the pigeons
cooing? The strong smell of ash permeated the rooftop. A sense of urgency made her pick up her step toward Saavedra’s cottage, the boys fast behind her. The door stood ajar and they rushed
inside. Brindl stood before the fireplace, sweeping the hearth.

“Brindl,” Tali said. “What is it? Where’s Saavedra?”

Brindl moved toward them, her face stained with tears. “Saavedra…the bluejackets…”

“What about them? What happened, Brindl?” Tali asked, clutching a chair post.

“Dead. Saavedra is dead,” Brindl replied, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “And all the birds as well.”

“No!” Tali cried. “He couldn’t be. No. We just saw him before we left. He was fine!”

Zarif stepped across the room and took Brindl’s hands. “Is it true, Brin?”

Brindl nodded. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “I found him at dawn yesterday. Collapsed on the floor of the aviary.”

Zarif pulled Brindl into an embrace and the only sound that filled the small cottage was Brindl’s weeping. Tali lowered herself into the chair in front of Saavedra’s hearth and
stared numbly into the ashes. Chey sat next to her and covered his face with his hands.

After several moments, Brindl stepped out of Zarif’s arms and took a deep breath. “There is something else I must tell you.”

Tali stiffened, awaiting more bad news.

“The doctors believe it was an illness brought by the birds, but…” Brindl paused, her breaths shaky and uneven again.

“But?” Zarif asked, gently.

“I do not believe it. I believe…I believe he was killed.”

“You mean murdered?” Chey asked, rising from his chair.

Brindl bit her lower lip. “I can’t explain how I know, but something is telling me so.”

“We would need evidence,” Zarif said, his voice husky with grief. “Have you any?”

“Well, I am not sick, for one,” Brindl said. “And I took care of the birds, even after they died.”

“But Saavedra was much older than you,” Tali said.

Zarif nodded. “Perhaps your youth saved you, Brin.”

“No, it’s more than that. Something is wrong in here,” Brindl said, looking around the cottage. “I just haven’t figured it out yet.”

Tali followed Brindl’s gaze around the room, which had once been a place of comfort. Everything looked exactly the same to her. Just emptier now. Cold.

“The last time I saw him, the night before I found him, he said he had urgent news for all of us,” Brindl continued. “I asked him to tell me what it was, but he wouldn’t.
He wanted us to know at the same time.”

“Look, Brindl, this has been a shock to all of us,” said Chey. “Why don’t we talk about this later, when we’ve had a bit more time—”

“Someone
killed
him, don’t you understand? We don’t have time to waste. Help me,” Brindl implored. “Help me figure it out before it’s too
late.”

The room grew quiet once again.

“Had he received any messages while we were gone?” Tali finally asked.

“Or sent any?” Zarif added.

“Only two that I know of,” Brindl answered, her voice quavering as she spoke. “He had me deliver messages to both Telendor and Jaden upon their return from the Clash…it
was that same evening, the night before he died.”

“But how did they return a whole day ahead of us?” Tali asked.

“They rode their horses hard and fast,” Zarif said, “while we rode slow and steady with the servants and pack animals.”

Tali ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “Doesn’t Saavedra…” she began, then took a deep breath and began again. “
Didn’t
Saavedra keep a log of
all his messages?”

Brindl walked over to a shelf and pulled a brown leather ledger from the row of books. Climbing onto a stool, she perched the book open on her knees. “The last entry is missing. Look, the
page has been torn out,” she said, sliding a finger along the book’s inner binding.

Tali and the boys drew closer to see for themselves. Someone had been neat about it, certainly, but Brindl was right: a page had been carefully removed from the book. Blessed Gods, what has
happened here? Tali thought.

“There’s something else,” Brindl said, handing the ledger to Zarif and pushing herself off the stool. “Someone has been here. I can feel it,” she said, and the
three of them followed her eyes around the room.

“It looks as it always does,” Chey answered, “at least to me.”

“No,” Brindl answered. “I know Saavedra’s habits as no other. Something is amiss.” Brindl wiped her eyes with the corner of her tunic and surveyed the small
cottage. “It is his cup. Look,” she said, walking over to Saavedra’s favorite chair, pointing at the small table next to it. “He would never set a cup on top of a
book.” She picked up the cup and placed it gently on top of a fabric napkin. A ring of moisture stained the red cover.

“Perhaps he was tired and did so by mistake,” Zarif suggested.

“No. He told me never to misuse a book in this way. Any bit of moisture, even a few drops down the side of a cup might ruin a book…you know that, Zarif.”

“Do you think…could it be possible…” Tali hesitated, “that Saavedra was poisoned?”

“It is a wide leap to think that, Tali,” Zarif said. “The birds are all dead too, remember?”

“This could be Jaden’s hand,” Chey said quietly.

Zarif sighed. “An empty cup on a book does not point to murder, friends. As I said, the most likely cause of death was an infected bird.”

“But the missing page?” Brindl asked. “That is the hand of a man, not a bird.”

“This is still speculation,” Zarif answered. “Chey is right, we’re all upset right now. We’ll talk of this later once we’ve had time to mourn our
friend.”

“Wait,” Tali said, reaching into her pocket for Xiomara’s letter. “What do we do with this?”

“It was meant for Saavedra, no other,” Chey said. “We must return it to the princess with news of Saavedra’s death.”

“But we have no way to send a message to her,” Brindl reminded them. “The birds are all dead.”

“Maybe we should open it,” Tali said, rubbing her thumb across the letter’s wax seal.

“Don’t be stupid, Tali,” Zarif said, putting his hand out for the letter.

Tali relinquished it, though not easily. “But what if it’s important, what if Xiomara was trying to warn Saavedra about someone or something?”

“Then surely she would have sent a message by express courier or bluejacket. It took us two full days to return here from the Clash,” replied Zarif. “It can’t be that
important, Tali. And certainly not worth the risk.”

“Even an Earth Guilder like me knows what happens if the Queen’s seal is cracked upon delivery,” Chey said, taking Zarif’s side. “I prefer my head attached to my
neck.”

“But Xiomara is not the Queen yet,” Tali insisted, “only the princess. And besides, what if she’s in danger, too? She needs to know about this immediately.”

“Tali, reading the letter is not an option. Think of something else,” Zarif said, rubbing a hand across his face.

“What about Ory?” Tali asked. The group looked at her doubtfully. “We can send him to Xiomara with the Queen’s Key.”

The room fell silent. Even Zarif held his tongue.

“I’ll write the letter,” Tali said, taking their silence for agreement.

“Do it quickly,” Zarif said, as the others nodded.

Tali tried to keep her hand from shaking as she drew her pen across the page to write the difficult words. The princess had loved Saavedra, and this news would wound her. Tali could not afford
to take long, so she simply spelled out the truth. Carefully she folded the parchment, then used Saavedra’s own seal and wax to close it. Finally, she bound it together with Xiomara’s
letter to Saavedra, still unopened, and the Queen’s Key.

“I will take it to Ory,” said Brindl, rising from her chair. “My friends in the kitchen will cover for me.”

“Be safe,” Tali said, pressing the letters into her friend’s small hands. Brindl nodded, and Tali could see that her eyes once again had filled with tears.

I
t must be done, Tali,” Zarif said, pulling her away from Saavedra’s body.

“But this isn’t fitting,” Tali said, her voice breaking as she blinked back tears she had willed not to fall. “He was a high counselor to queens, not a common
soldier!”

“Saavedra himself made the decree during the Rose Plague of 1598,” Zarif said, patting Tali on her shoulder. “The sun may set on death only twice.”

“He was a Moon Guilder, a scholar like yourself. How can you defend this?” Tali replied, still unwilling to let go.

“That decree saved lives,” Zarif answered. “It was not a popular decision, I know, but Saavedra understood its importance, just as he’ll understand what we do now. He
would want this, Tali.”

Tali wiped the tears off her cheeks and stepped away from the pyre. Saavedra would be burned on the hill overlooking the Alcazar. Only his heart would be returned to the Moon Pyramid outside the
city of Fugaza and placed inside the holy shrine to Elia. Tali did not know why the funeral pyre angered her so; it had always been the Sun Guild way to end in fire. And after the Plague, it had
become
everyone’s
way, despite the older guild traditions. Before Saavedra’s decree, Moon Guilders would preserve their dead in strips of white cloth and entomb them in
Elia’s chamber. At least he was not shoveled into a hole like the Earth Guilders used to do, Tali thought with a shudder. Feeling bad for her ungenerous thought, Tali reached over and grabbed
the rough hand of her friend Chey. He squeezed her hand in return and laced his fingers through hers.

The group of mourners on the hill numbered only a dozen or so. A Holy Sister officiated the ceremony, standing in the middle of a small half circle made up of those in attendance. Tali was
heartened to see Jessa, Saraky, and Abelino arrive in their formal centurio uniforms, though there was no sign of Commander Telendor or Jaden. The first stars of night had just begun to twinkle as
Elia rose in the east. Now that the Moon Goddess had made her appearance, it was time to begin. The Holy Sister, clad in simple white robes, lifted her hands to pray.

“Elia, accept the soul of Manuel de Saavedra, your servant and soldier.” She took a rolled cone of parchment, lit it from the silver bowl of embers at her feet, and placed it on the
pyre. The mourners turned their backs then, in accordance to Moon Guild tradition, which held that one must turn away from death and look to life instead. Only the Holy Sister would be allowed to
tend the flame of death.