The Tale of Five Heirs

Chapter Twenty-five, in which Yago is even more annoying than is typical

"We lived in a society where corrupt elites were more likely to build a new trebuchet than to make sure children were fed," said Phoebe, eyes shining, pacing back and forth on the stage. "We lived in a society where corrupt priestesses from one of the fake religions would preach good works and then go home to get fat off the sweat of the proletariat."

The crowd roared. It was late in the evening, and most of them were glassy eyed, fixated on the teenager trotting up and down the stage. Most of them, anyway.

"Eating sweat?" hissed a woman to Tamara's left. "Disgusting."

Tamara groaned and rubbed her eyes. The situation was a nightmare. Clearly, Phoebe was impersonating Firanora and had been for some time. How and why were a mystery, but Tamara was pretty sure which cloak-wearing sneaky weasel was responsible.

But the important thing was, many people would be watching Phoebe here. She probably had guards. Why couldn't Tamara's job be easy for once?

Well, there was no way she could talk to Phoebe here. Time to regroup. Tamara stood up and made her way back towards the door.

A woman in a velvet magenta dress glared at her. "You're being incredibly disrespectful," she said. "That woman led the Revolution to kick the capitalist pigs out of Fort Yaron!"

That's what you think, thought Tamara. She doubled over and covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm gonna barf my beef," she said. "Wouldn't want to disrespect the glorious worker's revolution that way. Y'know."

The woman recoiled, and Tamara ran past her.

The guards looked at her in confusion as she burst through the front doors of the building. "You're back quickly," said one.

"I got poison ivy too," said Tamara.

Tamara reached the alley where she and Skeena had been hiding. There was no one there, but a moment later Tamara heard a thump and turned around to see Skeena straightening up beside her.

"Just a little rooftop reconnaissance," said Skeena, dusting off her shoulders. "Why're you back? Is Phoebe in there?"

"We need to make a plan," said Tamara. "You're not gonna believe this. I didn't believe it." She laughed maniacally.

Skeena looked at her in concern. "Are you all right?" she said. "Why aren't you stoic, like you usually are?"

"Phoebe is Firanora."

"What?"

Tamara gestured helplessly. "I don't know how or why, but Phoebe is in there giving a speech right now, and they all believe she's Firanora.'

"Do you think that miserable scumball Yago Elldown is behind this?"

"Of course he's behind it, Skeena," said Tamara, gritting her teeth and clenching her fingers around the hilt of her sword. "Somehow he's gotten Phoebe to impersonate Firanora. But that's not our problem. How are we going to get to her now?"

"We'll wait till after the meeting is over," said Skeena. "Maybe we can shoot some grappling hooks into her window in the middle of the night, then rappel up the side of the building into her bedroom. We'll wear all black, and—"

"Skeena, Yago knows us. He knows you'll want to do something like that.'

"You're no fun."

"I suppose we could always leave and make for the nearest Aranthian army outpost, then return in a few days with enough troops to—"

"No, no." Skeena shuddered. "That could easily turn into a bloodbath that would get too many people killed. We must weigh the odds, Tamara. Better to just risk ourselves. Besides, your plan has no finesse."