“But—But—” Sparrow struggled to refuse.
Yves cut off her protest. “By the time you cross the border, the Viceroy will be dead. No one will lay the blame on you.”
Louise realized she was crying. Alexander was an idea of a perfect older sister and a handful of photographs. Windwolf was much more a real person to her. Louise had watched hours of video of the Viceroy and pored over all the known facts of his life. She knew him better than most of her teachers. How could they talk so casually about killing him?
Yves turned to Ambassador Feng. “We will need Shoji on this. He is the only one we have clever enough to verify that the work we get out of Dufae is correct. You have him on leash now?”
“Firmly. We’ve got the child caged in an obscuring spell at a secret compound. Shoji will not be able to find him.”
“Be sure to keep him well hidden and unharmed. We’ve missed our chance at taking the other children of the Chosen bloodline. Without the others, we’ll lose our hold on the tengu if the child we have is killed or freed.”
“We have Shoji.”
Yves snorted with contempt. “The male would kill himself before being used that way. It’s the dragon influence on the bloodline. If it comes to that, you’ll have to cage him.”
There was the scrape of boots and they all went silent, turning, frightened.
Stormsong stood in the doorway of the Lost Treasures exhibit. She frowned at the three assembled in the hallway. She asked something in High Elvish.
“Good god, tell me that she doesn’t speak French,” the ambassador murmured, although neither his tone nor face betrayed the fear of his words.
Louise muffled a whimper, remembering how Yves had so casually mentioned killing off the holy warriors if they learned too much.
Sparrow snorted. “Not a word.” She switched to English to address the warrior. “Not all humans speak English. We are speaking French.”
Stormsong studied Ambassador Feng for a minute and then asked in fluent Mandarin. “Why aren’t you using the Chinese official language? Would not that be more polite?”
Ambassador Feng went white and took a step back. He caught himself and bowed, stuttering out, “I’m—I’m amazed. I did not know that you spoke my language.”
“We’re not speaking Mandarin because I don’t know it.” Yves returned the conversation to English. His tone was bold and fearless. “This is a common problem with humans. Earth has nearly seven thousand distinct languages. We have a legend that at one time we tried to reach the heavens and one of our gods cursed us so we would fail. He made it so not one man spoke the same language as his neighbor. And in a babbling of voices, the people abandoned their great work and fled in confusion.”
“The tower of Babel. I know the story. I’ve read your Bible.”
“Singing Storm of Wind has helped the Viceroy study human culture since they were doubles. Wolf Who Rules hired tutors to teach them several of Earth’s languages. Together they have read most of the classic works of human literature.”
“But you didn’t teach them French?” Ambassador Feng asked in French but proved that he had been following the English conversation.
Sparrow locked down on a flash of anger, trying to pass it off as thinking carefully before answering the question in French. “I’d been banished to the farthest corner of hell by his father. I did not join Wolf’s household until after the first Startup.”
The elevator dinged and the staff person tumbled out, shuffling through papers. “Yes. Sorry. I should have had these ready.”
They all turned to face him. Yves, however, was the one who addressed him.
“Yes, we’re going to have to prepare claims on three items. You can ship them tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? We were hoping that the elves would allow us to keep the exhibit together until the end of this show.”
“Tomorrow,” Yves said firmly. “Let me point them out.”
Ambassador Feng frowned as Yves swept the staff person back into the exhibit room. “I know your people still see him as our Emperor,” he murmured quietly to Sparrow alone. “But much has changed since the pathways between the worlds were closed. Our goals are no longer strictly the same.”
Sparrow sniffed with distain. “It seems to me that your people are the ones who lost sight of the truth. Playing with your ugly little monsters. We are meant to be gods with angels serving our every whim.”
“We needed an army to take back our world. Monsters were the only way to build one quickly. Once we have what is ours, we’ll go back to making angels.” The ambassador glanced toward Stormsong. “More obedient ones this time.”