by L. Penelope
Stunned faces peered back at him.
“In fact,” he said, soldiering on, “I think all those who have been convicted in absentia, and thus denied a defense, should be retried only when they are located. No one should be sentenced to death without having had the chance to have their say.”
“You’re referring, I take it, to the Poison Flame?” Aggar asked, unmoved.
Darvyn met his hard eyes. “Why should she not get the opportunity to speak up for herself?”
Aggar scoffed.
“What could she possibly have to say?” Rozyl asked. “What defense is there for crimes such as hers?”
“Blood magic.” Darvyn’s words were met with silence and bewilderment. He continued. “When Kyara was only a child, the Cantor carved a spell into her skin that made it so she could not disobey the commands she was given. She could not even raise a hand against herself to take her own life and escape her bondage. Her life was not her own.”
He curled his hand into a fist, staring at nothing as he relayed Kyara’s tale. “She was forced to become an assassin. Yes, she killed for the True Father, but it was not by choice. Even the pay-rollers had free will. What they did, they did of their own volition. The soldiers were trained from childhood but still chose to embody the brutality they were taught. It was not so with her.”
“You seem to know quite a lot about her,” Turwig said, sitting up straight.
Darvyn looked over at the old man, pleading with him. “She saved my life. More than once.” His gaze went to everyone around the table. “At the least, she deserves a new trial so that she can tell you all this herself. If we’re creating a new way forward, we must embrace justice, not just revenge. You all can petition the tribunal.”
The silence stretched on and on. Darvyn waited, his heart beating faster, his body taut with anticipation.
Aggar snorted. “This changes nothing. It does not take away the lives she’s stolen. You speak of justice for her, but what about justice for them?”
“A dog that’s been trained to kill must still be put down,” Lyngar said.
“She’s not a dog,” Darvyn gritted out.
“I don’t think we can go back on this,” Hanko said, his voice kind. “The True Father manipulated with many methods, some magical, some not. But the victims still deserve to see the perpetrators held accountable.”
“She saved my life,” Darvyn plead. “At her own peril, she saved me.”
Rozyl spoke quietly from his side. “I’m sorry, but the others are right. If the Poison Flame is allowed to walk the streets free, imagine how the people would react. We need to show a united front and prove that the old regime is gone. Forever.”
“Then exile her,” Darvyn said. “Send her somewhere far away where no one will ever see her again.”
“She’s too dangerous,” Turwig said in a low voice.
Not him, too. Darvyn wanted to scream at them all. If they knew how dangerous Kyara truly was, how much restraint she practiced every day, they would never get a night’s sleep. What they knew about her could fill a thimble.
“None of you will listen?”
“I’m sorry, oli,” Turwig said, resting a hand on his arm.
Hanko looked down, pursing his lips. Lyngar scowled, and Aggar closed his eyes before shaking his head.
On his other side, Rozyl inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, Darvyn. We wouldn’t be safe with her on the loose.”
He jerked out of Turwig’s grip. Anger burned through him, throwing a haze across his vision. Briefly, he considered using Earthsong on them and trying to change their emotions, but he knew that wouldn’t work. They were firmly entrenched in their bids for vengeance.
He had done everything he could within the system. Now he would just have to go outside of it.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The child’s family gathered, coming back from their fields and crops. “Is the young one in danger?” Ayal cried.
“There is no danger,” the father replied. “The water is as much our home as the land. Sit and share our meal.”
But when she saw their paltry supply of food, she balked as there was not enough to go around.
—THE AYALYA
Ella stepped out of the taxi, anticipation wrapping thick fingers around her middle. She brushed the wrinkles out of her best dress and patted her cloche hat, ensuring it was in place. Benn straightened beside her, and helped Ulani and Tana out of the car. The girls’ hair was freshly plaited, with ribbons on the ends. Each wore new dresses, Ulani’s in a soft pink and Tana’s in seafoam green.
The Eastern temple loomed before them, majestic and serene. The street and sidewalk were crowded this afternoon. Other families were climbing the steps, Elsiran parents with their Lagrimari children in tow. The Sisterhood had put together a special ceremony to celebrate the first wave of adoptions.
The last to exit the car was Vera, who had insisted on accompanying them. Ella had warily agreed, vowing to watch her interaction with the girls carefully. So far, she had praised their outfits and hair, much to Ella’s surprise.
As the taxi sped away, Ella scanned the busy street. The sight of the Lagrimari children was raising eyebrows from passersby. A trio of women walked by swiftly, putting a wide berth between themselves and the girls. Tana and Ulani, staring up in awe at the temple, had yet to notice, but Vera did. She sniffed, squared her shoulders, and took Ulani’s hand. “Come on girls, we don’t want to be late.”
Ella blinked and shared a bemused glance with Benn. He lifted a shoulder and followed his mother up the steps, with Tana close beside him.
Shaking her head, Ella started after them, only to be nearly plowed down by a man rushing down the sidewalk. She stumbled to right herself after the force of the collision.
“Excuse me,” she said, shaking off the blow and taking a good look at him before he hurried away. His face was obscured by a newsboy cap and he wore brown coveralls with heavy work boots. The outfit was common enough, but an inner voice told her this was one of Zann Biddel’s guards.
She turned to stare at the man’s retreating back. He hadn’t said a word to her, hadn’t acknowledged her at all. Déjà vu rippled over her. Another day, another sidewalk, another young man dressed in the same way who had nearly run her down.
Or maybe the same one, they were all so interchangeable—probably by design. That man and a companion had been fleeing the warehouse belonging to Hak Floodhammer. The two had likely killed him. What little investigation there’d been into Floodhammer’s death had yielded nothing, and had never even made the papers.
Ella whipped her head around, scrutinizing the other people on the street. Brown coveralls and caps were common among the working men, but she didn’t see any others with the distinct combination that so resembled a uniform. Zann Biddel’s little army. Could they be up to something here? Was this the site of the next attack?
She raced up to the entry, searching for her family. Everyone was being directed downstairs to a meeting room on a lower floor. Forced to slow her pace by the press of bodies in the stairwell, Ella’s anxiety rose. There were less than two dozen families adopting children in this group; would it be a likely terrorist target? The young man who’d bumped into her hadn’t been coming from the temple, so perhaps she was just being paranoid.
When she finally reached the meeting space, she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. The room had been decorated with balloons and streamers, and a table full of finger food stood to the side. She searched for Benn’s tall form through the small crowd, then gasped when a hand gripped hers.
Ulani looked up at her, concern in her eyes. The child could sense her distress with her Song. Ella took a purposeful deep breath and crouched down beside her daughter. “I’m all right, sweetheart. I’m okay.”
The girl looked unconvinced, and Ella chastised herself for getting so worked up. After the temple bombing, attacking a handful of parents and children would be anticlimactic. Surely the next target would be bigger and more pu
blic than a basement room in the smaller temple.
She stood and allowed Ulani to lead her to where the rest of the family had gathered, talking to a pair of Sisters. After a few minutes, Ella was totally calm again, trying to enjoy the afternoon.
A teenage Lagrimari acolyte to the Sisterhood approached, a huge smile on her face. Ulani jumped up and down and raced to embrace the girl. “Zeli-yul!” she said. “Mama, meet Zeli. She is friend.”
Ella’s heart stuttered to be called Mama. She reached for Zeli’s forehead to greet her. “Pleasant to meet you,” she said.
Zeli nodded and held her palms out for an Elsiran greeting. “Pleasant to meet you,” she said with a thick accent.
The three girls began chattering excitedly in Lagrimari, and the sight warmed Ella all over. Benn and Vera were locked in conversation with a Brother, the first man Ella had ever seen in the Sisterhood. He wore the same blue robe and his long hair was in the same topknot as all the women wore.
A tap on her shoulder had her turning around. “Sister Rienne,” she exclaimed.
Rienne beamed. “Such a wonderful sight, I’m so pleased. How is the transition to parenthood going?”
“It’s been quite a change, bringing the girls home, moving house—all in such a short period of time. But I’m deliriously happy. I know it won’t be easy, but they’re mine. I feel like it was meant to be.”
“The Goddess provides,” Rienne said, looking over at the girls. “I see you’ve met Tarazeli, one of our new recruits. She’s the Goddess’s personal robe mistress. Very promising.” She lowered her voice and pulled Ella slightly to the side. “You know, she’s part of the reason Syllenne is behind bars.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, Zeli was the main witness. She saw Syllenne transferring the bags of palmsalt with her own eyes. Her account was quite credible.”
Ella regarded the girl anew. She was certain that while Syllenne was involved, she had protected herself from any direct connection with the crime, as she’d done for many years. So what had Zeli actually witnessed?
“So much to be grateful for,” Rienne exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Syllenne’s entire operation has been taken down and all her cronies, even Gizelle, have either fled or been arrested.” Ella had never seen the woman so upbeat.
“And look, the ceremony is about to begin.” With a trill of laughter, Rienne excused herself. The Sisters present began to gather the adoptees together at the front of the room.
Ella approached Zeli before she could move away. “Do you speak Elsiran?”
“Not well,” Zeli replied. “Learning still.”
“You saw Syllenne Nidos … in the storeroom.” Ella enunciated each word, watching the teen carefully for recognition.
Zeli nodded. “Yes. I see her.” She brought her arms out to represent something big. “Bags. Large bags.”
“They found the traces of palmsalt where the bags were stored.”
The girl squinted, not understanding. Ella tried another tack. “Do you know Zann Biddel?”
Zeli frowned. “A man?”
“Yes, a man. Elsiran.” More or less, she thought.
Zeli shook her head. Ella didn’t detect any sort of subterfuge, though she couldn’t be sure. What she wouldn’t give for a Song to be able to distinguish truth from lies.
“Tarazeli was not involved in any conspiracy.” The rich voice came from behind her. Ella’s hair lifted on end with the force of an overpowering energy crackling in the air. She turned around slowly to find the Goddess Awoken standing behind her.
“Your Excellency.” She dove into a deep curtsey, keeping her head down as she rose.
The Goddess was clad in a flowing white gown. When Ella dared to look up again, she found the woman tall, regal, and imposing, Her hair shifting from a mysterious breeze.
Whereas Ella would have expected the arrival of the Goddess to draw a crowd, all behind her was strangely quiet. She chanced a look around to find a veil of darkness between her and the rest of the room. It was like she and the Goddess existed outside of time and space.
“You have questions, Zorelladine Farmafield.” The Goddess’s statement was flat, Her voice mellifluous and musical, but commanding.
Ella had no desire to question the Goddess Awoken about anything, but it was obvious that’s what the woman wanted. Her fingers fidgeted as she worked up the nerve to give voice to her suspicions.
“I believe that Zann Biddel set up Syllenne to take the fall for the bombing. I think she was involved, but he was, too. Do you know of this?” She kept her voice as respectful as possible, but fear of reprisal bloomed in her chest.
The Goddess peered at Ella intensely. “Zann frightens you.”
“He’s grown powerful. He has many at his command and his views are … divisive.” Her voice shook a bit at the end as she was subjected to the severe scrutiny.
“Zann’s time in the spotlight is temporary. He is like a rodent that comes out of its warm, dry nest just before a storm. He will squeak and squawk while frightened women with brooms race after him, but when the storm hits, all of that will be forgotten.”
Ella shivered. Was she the woman with the broom in that metaphor? The Goddess’s lips curved in an almost smile as if She’d heard Ella’s thoughts. Perhaps She had. Ella couldn’t conceive of the power She possessed.
“So you’re saying Zann is nothing to worry about?”
“Will worrying help?”
Frustration beat at her. This conversation was surreal on so many levels. “But … he’s on the brink of splitting the country in two. He can’t just be ignored.”
“A wise woman once said that a strategic sacrifice is often necessary for the greater good.”
Ella’s heart nearly stopped. Every muscle froze in shock and a growing sense of fear. Her mouth worked soundlessly, unable to even respond.
“You, yourself, wanted Syllenne behind bars, did you not?”
Ella nodded, still unable to form words.
“What does it matter if Zann put her there or someone else did?”
Rienne’s words from so many days ago came back to her. Don’t you think the Goddess can sense the heart of Her own High Priestess? If something could be done, wouldn’t She do it?
Clarity poked through the fog. “Someone else … like … you?” She thought of Zeli, the Goddess’s personal servant, the one who had witnessed Syllenne’s misdeeds. The account ledger found in the Eastern temple—that Rienne had been the one to find it. Someone with a specific grievance against the High Priestess. All so improbable, so calculated.
Ella swallowed and took a step back.
“Discomfort is a part of change. Do not fear it, Zorelladine.” Oola’s stare pinned her in place. A surge of power flowed over Ella’s skin. She’d never felt anything like it and couldn’t say it was pleasant. Then, it was gone. The cocoon of darkness that they’d been enclosed in lifted. Sounds and scents from the room rose to greet her. And a wave of gasps indicated the presence of the Goddess had been noted.
On wobbly legs, Ella stepped aside, allowing the Goddess to glide past her. Instead of joining the fray, she hung back in the corner, trying to make sense of the way the world had shifted on its axis.
She was not a follower of the Goddess, did not worship in Her temples or read Her scriptures. But Ella was a woman of faith and had respect for the power of all deities. The Goddess Awoken was something entirely different.
Eventually, she made her way to Benn and witnessed the ceremony in silence. Each adoptee received a satin sash and had their names entered in the Book of Records, where the Sisterhood kept genealogical data on the populace. The new interim High Priestess arrived and said a few inspiring words. The Goddess declined to make a speech, but stayed on the sidelines, watching the event.
After it was over, Tana and Ulani raced up to her, grinning widely. Tana’s rare smile was something Ella hoped to see much more of. Vera was cooing over their sashes, acting every inch the doting gra
ndmother. But Ella could barely spare the emotion to be shocked at her mother-in-law’s turnaround, she was still in so much turmoil.
Benn’s gaze indicated he’d noticed her strange mood. She shook her head slightly, indicating she didn’t want to talk about it now. Later, when they were alone and she had processed things a bit more.
When the crackling energy hit her skin, tears formed in her eyes. Couldn’t She just leave Ella alone?
But instead of targeting Ella, the Goddess bent to regard Ulani. Ella held her breath, scared for her daughter.
“Do you remember me, little one?” the Goddess asked.
Ulani nodded and reached out to touch the woman’s forehead.
“It is good that you have found a family. There is nothing more important.” She spoke in Elsiran, but Ulani appeared to understand perfectly.
The Goddess then turned to Tana. Her hand reached out toward the child as if to stroke her cheek, but stopped, hovering there in the air. Tana’s eyes were wide, not with fear, but awe.
The Goddess stood sharply, all of Her intense regard focused exclusively on Tana. When She spoke, Ella knew it was directed at her, though Her gaze never moved from the girl. “Your daughters will need to be trained. Their Songs are strong and must be focused.”
Ella cleared her throat. “Tana doesn’t have a Song, Your Excellency.”
“All Lagrimari have Songs. Some are just different than others.” She turned to face Ella. “Her Song has been bound; for that you should be grateful. When the viper regains her venom, it will be something to behold.”
Without another word, She turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Ella gathered her daughters to her, one in each arm, holding them close to overcome the trembling.
“What did that mean?” Benn murmured behind her.
“Wait until everyone hears that my granddaughters received special attention from the Goddess Herself!” Vera sounded beside herself with joy.
