He shook himself. “That was when I discovered that to be a catch-fire is not just a passive thing, when the fire mage throws the backlash into you and you must endure it. In desperation, hoping to save the Gold Cup mansa’s life, I found out it is possible to pull the backlash out of another person and into myself. Any cold mage can do it if they are strong enough. It was too late for the mansa of Gold Cup House, but working together the mansa and I were able to quench the fire. I am certain I almost got that cursed fire mage to burn himself up. Lord Marius had time to deploy his army on the best ground. It was a bloody battle, but against Camjiata, they say a draw is as good as a victory. Anyway, all that expensive porcelain shattered in just this arrangement when the old mansa toppled over. I remember it exactly.”

“That’s when the mansa named you heir, isn’t it?” I said softly.

“Yes. That’s when he finally believed me.” He let out a breath. “Beatrice, I recognize the trust you have shown by sharing these sketches with me. I thank you.”

“Most never mean anything to me. Yet the general could always find their meaning.”

I shrugged. “So he claims. He could easily have guessed I would try to escape on a Phoenician vessel just as the tide turned that morning in Expedition. I suspect the sketches remind him of connections he then sews together. He doesn’t need dreams for that.”

“You’re the last person who should be such a skeptic, Cat.” She displayed a sketch of three hats: a half-crushed tricorn hat pinned by a badge in the shape of a lion’s head, a fashionable shako like mine that was ornamented with peacock feathers, and a humble cloth cap with a shard of glass caught in its crumpled folds. “What can anyone possibly make of this?”

“The shako is what Camjiata’s Amazons wear,” said Vai. Under the table he hooked his foot around my ankle. “I thought the style would look well on Catherine. The lion’s-head badge is the token of the Numantian League of Iberia, where Camjiata was born. The other is a farmer’s cap.”

“Yes, but what does it mean? Besides something to do with the war?” Bee refilled his cup and poured one for me. “Cat, dearest, do stand up and let me see those clothes. This isn’t what you were wearing yesterday.”

When I rose she examined my split skirt, jacket, and jaunty hat as Vai’s somber expression lightened at her exclamation of delight.