He wasn’t wrong, but frankly, it was a lot less of a ridiculous request than asking both queens to abdicate in favor of Merecot. And less horrific than poisoning them. “The key part is that these spiritsdon’tbelong to any land. They’re linked to the queen only, and only barely, which should make the transfer smooth. It would have to be done in the grove, of course.”
“But it can be done?” Naelin asked.
“Yes,” Hanna said. And then amended: “Theoretically, at least.”
Ven clasped Naelin’s hands in his. “It’s too great a risk—”
“To save my children, Aratay,andSemo? I don’t think it is.” Naelin turned to Merecot. “I’ll do it.”
Merecot opened and shut her mouth twice before finding the words she wanted to say. “You should want assurances from me as well, before you so blithely agree,” Merecot said at last. “Once you abdicate, you will be vulnerable. You’ll need to rely on me to protect you.” She still looked dazed.She’s a planner,Hanna thought,and this idea wasn’t in any of her calculations.
Ven spoke up. “I’ll be there to protect her as well—and terminate you, if you violate the agreement.” Out of the corner of her eye, Merecot saw her guards tense. She held up a hand to calm them. Hanna wished she could do the same to Ven.
“You won’t be permitted into the grove,” Merecot said as if he were an idiot.He’s not,Hanna thought. Nothing like this had ever been attempted before, at least as far as she knew. He was right to worry. Just wrong to try to stop this.It’s our best chance to help everyone.“The Semoian spirits, at least the older ones, are protective of their grove and fond of their traditions,” Merecot continued. “Only the worthy can enter. The spirits, not to mention the people of Semo, would... object if the sacred ground were violated. Really wouldn’t be a good idea to rile them up right before we attempt such a dangerous transition.”
Ven was shaking his head, but Queen Naelin laid her hand over his. “It’s in her interest to protect me. If this works, she’ll save her land. And that’s what she wants.”
“Isit?” Ven asked without bothering to lower her voice. “We don’t know her true motives. She’s deceived us before.”
Hanna winced. Couldn’t he at leasttryto be diplomatic? “She’s not deceiving you as to the danger to this land. And I should point out that this plan ismyidea. You trust me, don’t you?” She looked first at Ven, then at Naelin, then at Merecot.
All of them, in their own way, do trust me.
And by trusting me, they’ll save everyone.
Hanna couldn’t help feeling a bit smug.
Naelin didn’t care if it was a good plan or not. She only cared that Merecot had said yes. Yes to Hanna’s solution. And yes to Naelin being reunited with her children.
Not permanently. Not yet. Not until the transfer was complete and Naelin had released the Aratayian spirits and claimed the excess Semoian spirits.
But it was a start.
She felt spirits watching her: two stone giants that lurked between statues, fire spirits that smoldered on the stone rafters above, an ice spirit in the window frosting the glass. She knew that Merecot had positioned another line of earth spirits just beyond them. The air quivered with them and made Naelin’s head feel thick, but she didn’t care.
All her attention was focused on one innocuous door, the one Erian and Llor would be coming through.
Ven was talking to her. She didn’t hear him. Reaching out with her mind, she tried to see through the eyes of the foreign spirits, to see if they were approaching, but it was like pushing through muck.
A hand touched her elbow lightly, and she jumped.
“I’m here for you,” Ven said quietly. “Whatever you need. I love you.”
That was the only thing he could have said that had the power to distract her from staring at the door. Even a hurricane would have been a mere nuisance, pushed away with an order to a few spirits. But at Ven’s words, she turned to him. “I love you too.”
It was surprisingly easy to say. She’d expected it to be a trumpets-blaring kind of moment, but instead it simply feltright. Like putting on a warm coat on a cold day.
Glancing over her shoulder, Ven nodded at the door. “They’re coming.”
As if his words summoned them, the door flew open, and Erian and Llor tumbled inside. “Mama!” And Naelin was running toward them, arms outstretched. She dropped to her knees, and they barreled into her, throwing their arms around her.
Both of them were babbling at once, and she heard only snippets: “So happy you’re here!” “Thought you wouldn’t come!” “Missed you so much!” And she was talking too: “I missed you both so very, very much.”
She pulled back so she could see them.
Erian, her cheeks rosy from playing outside in the courtyard, her hair braided too expertly for her to have done it herself, and a smudge of sugar in the corner of her smile from whatever pastry she ate for breakfast.
Llor, with a smile so wide that he looked like he had chipmunk cheeks. He smelled faintly of warm cinnamon and that odor little boys seemed to acquire from a bit too long between baths.
