He reached into his coat and brought out a small crystal, edges dulled, a faint, dead milkiness in its heart. "This thing died on me when I was at Solania…"
"A communication crystal?" Sigurd leaned in despite herself. "That's hella old. The new issues are much better…"
"My master gifted it to me." He turned it over, as if warmth from his palm might coax a ghost of light. "Still, I can't contact him."
"I can give you mine?" offered the youth with the too-big gauntlet, eagerness and the need to be useful stumbling over mistrust in his voice.
"I don't know his frequency." Ludwig shook his head. "Still." He looked up. "Tell me, what happened after the fight in Tulmud?"
Gehrman exhaled "Well… the imperial army marched in. Killed off the remaining monsters. Took control of Tulmud."
"What about the royal family?"
