The energy from the archmage’s message faded and Damien fled. When he glanced back he found Imogen watching him with one hand on her hip and a hungry gleam in her eyes. He seriously doubted anything he said had made an impression on her. Maybe his master had a mission for him. Something that would send him out of the capital until the wedding. Fat chance of that.

He walked around to the front of the keep, his mouth dry and his throat scratchy. At least she could have let him get a drink. He had almost reached the steps when he spotted Jen coming from the opposite direction. She had on her slashed uniform and the hilt of the sword he made her jutted up over her shoulder. Even out on a work crew the weapon never moved far from her hand. That was one of the first lessons Dad had taught them. Damien paused at the bottom to let Jen join him.

“She called you too?” Damien asked.

“Uncle Andy sent a guard for me. You know what’s going on?”

“No clue. I just got a message from the archmage calling me to the throne room.”

They walked up the stairs, past the guards, and down the armor-lined hall The usual two guards stood on duty and opened the door for them. Damien nodded to them in passing. They refused to meet his gaze, which was weird. Usually the guards were friendly. There must be something serious going on to put them in such a bad mood.

They entered the all-but-empty throne room. No messengers waited for instructions. No one was lined up to ask for a favor. Even Uncle Andy’s guards had gone off somewhere. The only people in the room were the king on his throne and the archmage standing at his right hand. Whatever they had to say must be dire. Uncle Andy looked even more wan than usual.

They bowed and Damien said, “You called us, Master?”

The archmage looked to the king who nodded. “I’m afraid I have bad news. Your father has fallen in battle.”

Damien’s knees wobbled and beside him Jen gasped. He reached out and grabbed her hand. She squeezed back with unconscious and desperate strength. Only his shield kept her from crushing his hand.

He tried to speak, but no words would come out. He glanced at his sister. Jen stared at the archmage then the king then back to his master. She didn’t seem to understand. Damien was having trouble with it himself.

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After a third try he managed to gasp, “What happened?”

“We’re not exactly sure,” Uncle Andy said. “We know a farmer came to The Citadel two days ago and claimed to have seen a demon. Your father went to investigate. Sometime that night the demon sword returned on its own to the armory. The master of arms discovered it yesterday morning.”

Beside him Jen’s whole body was shaking. Damien conjured a sofa and the two of them sat, protocol be damned. She started crying and buried her head in his shoulder. Damien put his arm around her and rubbed her back. She’d always been closer to Dad. Damien had just started to turn their relationship into something more than awkward silences and shouting. Now he’d never finish that process.

“Has anyone spoken to Lizzy?” Damien asked. “She’d know everything that happened.”

“Tradition holds that no one can touch the demon sword until the four generals select a new bearer for it,” Uncle Andy said. “That could take a while.”

“I need to talk to her.” Lizzy would be upset after Dad died and she didn’t have anyone to talk to all alone in the armory.

“The generals will all come to your father’s memorial.” Uncle Andy massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’ll encourage them to decide quickly.”

Jen sniffed and looked up. “When will the memorial be?”

“It will take a few weeks for everyone to arrive. Mid-July at the earliest,” the king said.

Damien clenched his fist. He couldn’t wait two weeks to see Lizzy. She’d think he had abandoned her. Damien frowned and considered the layout of The Citadel. The healer’s quarters shared a wall with the armory. Maybe if he visited Miss Ella he could get close enough to connect with Lizzy. As long as he didn’t touch her it wouldn’t break any stupid traditions.

“Since there’s no body—” Uncle Andy’s voice broke. He cleared his throat and continued. “We’ll put a plaque in the royal mausoleum. He’ll have a place of honor for all time.”

“I think Dad would have liked that,” Jen said.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to go to The Citadel and carve his name below Mom’s on the family headstone. Jen and I can fly there and be back in a day.”

The archmage nodded. “We can manage without you for a while. Take as long as you need.”

They stood up. “If there’s nothing else…” Damien looked from one to the other.

The king and the archmage both shook their heads. Damien and Jen walked out of the throne room, leaning on each other for support. When they reached the courtyard Damien asked, “Are you ready or do you need to pack?”

“Most of my stuff is still in my room back home. I guess I’ll need to gather everything up to make room for the new commandant.”

“I don’t think they’ll kick you out in the next day or two.” Damien conjured a platform under their feet and they flew up over the wall.

“I didn’t even think about putting his name on Mom’s headstone. That was sweet of you to suggest.”

Damien winced. “It was more of an excuse to visit The Citadel. I need to talk to Lizzy.”

“We both need to talk to her. She’s the only one that can tell us what happened to Dad.”