by Caitlin Seal
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it? The way I see things, you could have stopped coming to me weeks ago. Most of what I taught you, you could have learned just as well from Lucia. You didn’t really need my help. So why didn’t you leave me alone?”
Naya’s chest ached with grief and anger. “What do you want me to say? What could I ever say that would make this right? I’m sorry? Well, I’m sorry it took me so long to see the truth. I’m sorry I believed all my father’s lies about the undead.” Her voice rose. She knew she should stop talking, but the words tore free. “I’m sorry for lying to you. And you’re right. I should have stayed away from you. I should have let you live your life. But I couldn’t. Because you were kind and smart, and you wanted to help me even after you knew I was a reaper. When I was with you, I felt like I could forget about everything else. I was falling in love with you, and I couldn’t just leave.”
Silence fell between them. Corten’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Naya reached toward him. She didn’t know what she meant to do, but she needed something from him, anything more than that shocked look on his face.
Corten backed away. “No,” he said softly. “I can’t.”
Naya suddenly wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see his shock transform to anger or disgust. A moment later she heard the soft squeak of hinges. When she opened her eyes, Corten was gone.
Naya stood perfectly still, staring around the empty room. Her hand throbbed, but she welcomed the distraction. I can’t. He couldn’t what? Couldn’t love her? Couldn’t bear to even be in the same room as her? Creator, why had she said that to him? She should have made something up or just kept her mouth shut.
Did she really love him?
She did.
She wasn’t sure when it had happened. But how else could she explain the warmth that had filled her whenever he smiled, or how spending time with him had felt like coming home? What else could justify the way the squeak of that door closing could hurt so much more than the pain of a cracked bone?
Minutes inched by and the silence in the little room seemed to deepen toward something ominous. Where had Corten gone? What if he’d fled into the city? What if the guard captured him and—
No! Corten wasn’t a fool. Even if she could somehow go find him, she doubted he’d want her help. She spun, staring at the shelves in search of anything that could distract her. Her eyes caught on an old history book and she pulled it free. Jalance had said the vault was full of books that had been banned during the purges, and as she read the title, Corten’s words echoed in her mind. Did it ever occur to you how many people here have been hurt by Talmir? She’d always assumed the restrictions set into the Treaty of Lith Lor were the only way to protect Talmir and Ceramor from another war. But she’d been wrong about so many things she’d thought she’d known. How well did she really understand the complicated web of politics that balanced the Congress of Powers? Not enough to see through Valn’s plans. Naya flipped the book open. Powerful people had feared these books enough to want them banned. Perhaps among their pages Naya could find some insight into the truth.
One book soon became a pile. She flipped page after page, pausing on whatever caught her eye. She read about the famine and disease that had swept through Ceramor after the war, made worse by the reparation payments the other Powers had demanded. There’d been hunger in Talmir during the reconstruction, but nothing so bad as what Jalance’s books described. One text told of dozens being sent to the headsman’s block during the purges, and whole neighborhoods burned under the aegis of destroying dangerous magics. Somehow, all that had been done in the name of peace. She’d never questioned it before. After all, the Mad King had started the war. His armies had decimated southern Talmir. The treaty had been an act of justice, one approved by the other Powers and accepted by Ceramor. Was it still just? How could anyone find who was in the right when both sides had done so much evil? Naya tried to fit the scraps of history into what she knew of Valn and his plans, searching for anything that might give her a new perspective on the problem. But it only left her feeling uncertain and small.
Naya slammed the book she’d been reading shut and set it on top of her pile. The room felt suddenly suffocating. Surely by now Jalance would have found out something. Why hadn’t he come to speak with her?
She looked around the silent room, then made her decision. But when she opened the door, she found Corten waiting on the stairs leading to the garden. He sat with his eyes closed and his head resting against the wall. If Naya hadn’t known any better, she might have guessed he was dozing.
Corten’s eyes snapped open. He stared at her, his expression tired. “Where are you going?”
Naya’s face flushed and she couldn’t meet his eyes. Had he been waiting out here this whole time? “I just want to go up and see what’s going on,” she said. “We should have heard something by now.”
Corten stood. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Then you don’t have to come with me. I just want to know if Jalance has learned anything.”
Corten’s jaw tensed. But after a moment he gave her a brief nod and stepped to the side of the stairs. They stood staring at each other. Naya wanted to ask why he’d waited out here. But he didn’t say a word about their previous conversation and she didn’t want to be the one to bring it up.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded in thanks, then jogged up the narrow stair. After a moment fumbling in the dark, she found the switch to open the hidden trapdoor. Fresh, cool air brushed her cheeks, and the musty smell of the underground vault was replaced by the rich scents of wet earth and crushed leaves.
It was dark in the garden, and the grass and flowers glistened with spent rain. A storm must have blown in while they were stuck below. When Naya closed her eyes, she could hear the unsteady patter of drops falling from the wet leaves above.
“What now?” Corten asked, making her jump.
Naya turned and saw him standing at the lip of the open stairway. “I thought you said this was a bad idea,” she said.
“It is. But I wasn’t going to let you come out here alone.”
He’d probably only followed her to make sure she didn’t try anything foolish. Still, the hard edges in his face had softened and Naya couldn’t squash the hope that blossomed in her chest. She started toward the house, straining all her senses to see if there was anyone around who shouldn’t be.
The house was quiet, and the only aether she could detect had the fuzziness of people sleeping. The back door was locked, but after a minute of fumbling with her picks she felt the bolt turn. She opened the door and glanced back. Corten was standing behind her with his arms crossed. “This is a bad idea,” he said again.
Naya forced herself to meet his eyes. “Maybe. But I can’t fix anything by waiting around and hiding.”
She stepped through the doorway, and after a moment Corten followed. The hallway was dark and still. Naya crept through it, retracing her steps to the house’s main stair. What aether she could sense seemed to be coming from above. Her feet made no noise on the stairs as she climbed to the second floor.
Partway down the hall she sensed aether coming from what proved to be a well-furnished bedroom. Inside, Jalance lay sprawled on a massive bed set against the far wall. His mouth hung open and his hair had tangled free of the paste that had contained it. Seeing him like that sent a fresh surge of anger through Naya. He’d said he would bring them news. Instead he’d apparently come home and gone to sleep. She stomped forward, then grabbed Jalance’s shoulder and shook him.
His eyes snapped open. He broke her grip and rolled away faster than she would have thought possible, fumbling for something on the nightstand. When he turned to face her, he was holding a long knife in a white-knuckled grip. Confusion wrinkled his
brow when he saw Naya, but he didn’t drop the knife. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Naya hesitated. Some small part of her whispered that any sane person would have had the decency to wait until morning. But their situation wasn’t exactly ordinary. “You said you would bring us news.”
Jalance was looking past her. “Corten, do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked. The sharp panic in his aether was fading, replaced by smoldering anger.
“Late, I would assume,” Corten said, his tone surprisingly light. “There’s no clock in your vault.” He crossed the room to stand beside Naya. “Sorry to interrupt your sleep.” Despite Corten’s initial reluctance, it seemed Naya wasn’t the only one who’d grown impatient at being left waiting for so long.
Jalance tugged at the collar of his sleeping robe, then set down the knife. “I didn’t come for you because I didn’t have anything significant to tell you. King Allence has agreed to provide assistance in investigating Garth’s claims. Valn has asked that they also investigate the rumors of missing Talmiran sailors. Because the supposed crimes were committed against Talmirans, the treaty gives him the right to lead the initial investigation. But so far he hasn’t done anything public.”
“What about Lucia?” Corten asked. “Does anyone know what happened to her?”
“Not yet. The Council will be meeting tomorrow night to discuss what sort of action we’ll need to take. Hopefully I’ll have more information for you after that.”
Naya caught the implication behind his words and frowned. “I want to go to that meeting,” she said.
“No,” Jalance said. “I’ve only just begun examining Lucia’s notes. I won’t be able to repair your bond before the meeting. Besides, we can’t risk having you captured. You’re too valuable.”
Naya’s jaw tightened. “Either you take me to that meeting or I’ll find someone else to help me.”
“That’s absurd. You’re wanted by half the city and you can barely walk. You need my help.”
“Actually, it would be good to have Naya at the meeting,” Corten said. “She knows more about Valn’s organization than any of the rest of us, and she was there when Lucia was taken. The others will probably want to question her before they make any decisions.”
Naya. That name still sounded strange coming from him, all the more so because she hadn’t expected him to take her side. Jalance rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re already taking a risk in calling this meeting. The city’s wound tight, and it seems Valn has managed to gain himself a foothold among the guard. I don’t need you drawing more trouble.”
“I won’t,” Naya said. “If I move carefully, I think I can keep myself from fading. No one will notice me.”
Jalance drew a slow breath. He held it for several seconds, then let it out in a puff. “Fine. You can come. But you must do as I say.” He picked up an engraved pocket watch from his nightstand and grimaced when he saw the time. “Now, would you please leave me be? I need rest if I’m to sort through that chicken scratch Lucia calls handwriting.”
The next morning Salina, the servant who had greeted them when they’d first arrived, brought Naya a fresh set of clothes to replace the shirt, vest, and trousers she’d borrowed from Corten.
Corten glanced at the bundle and closed his book with a snap. “I’m going to get some air. Let me know when you’re done,” he said before retreating up the stairs to the garden.
Naya’s brow furrowed as she watched him go. Since they’d returned to the vault, he’d spoken little. When he did talk, he acted like their previous fight had never happened. Naya wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or worried. Though she couldn’t sense him through the aether, his presence in the room had felt like a constant tug on her heart all through the long hours of waiting. She wanted to talk to him about the books she’d read, or find some way to make him see that, despite the mistakes she’d made, her intentions had been good. But she wasn’t sure good intentions were enough. And every time she tried to speak, her voice failed her.
Naya dressed, running her fingers over the smooth cotton. The new clothes—a dark-green skirt, a matching shirt, and a black vest with brass buttons—were of good quality but not extravagant.
“You’re really from Talmir?” Salina asked as Naya fastened the last button.
Naya tried to hide her frown. “Yes.” Jalance had claimed he was keeping their presence here a secret.
Salina’s expression brightened. “Really? I’ve never met a Talmiran wraith before. I didn’t know you people could be resurrected.” She must have seen something in Naya’s expression, because her cheeks flushed and she glanced away. “Not that I believe the stories about how you don’t have souls. That’s just silly. But my father said that when the necromancers tried resurrecting your soldiers during the war, your souls always resisted the song.”
Salina’s chipper tone made Naya’s insides twist. She’d heard those same stories, except then they’d been about brave soldiers who managed to resist the call of corruption even in death. “How did you know I was Talmiran?”
“I figured it out on my own. Everyone on the streets is talking about the missing Talmirans, and Lucia Laroke’s been arrested. People are saying that she had a Talmiran wraith living with her. But now that wraith’s gone missing, and since you’re hiding…” She paused for a breath, then shrugged. “Also, there was your accent. I didn’t hear you say much, but you didn’t sound like you were from here.”
“Wait,” Naya said, “they’ve announced Lucia’s arrest?”
Salina nodded. “It was all over the papers this morning.”
“Is Jalance upstairs?” Naya asked.
“Not at the moment. He went out around dawn to pay a few calls. He said to tell you that he’ll come speak to you when he gets back.”
Naya struggled to keep the frustration out of her voice. “Do you have a copy of that newspaper?” she asked.
Salina took a small step back. “I think there’s still one in the drawing room. I’ll bring it down.”
When Jalance returned a few hours later, Naya was waiting for him in the garden with the newspaper. Jalance stopped a few paces away from her and frowned. Naya felt anger leak into his aether, though she could tell he was trying to suppress it. “I told you to stay inside.”
“You also told me you’d bring any news as soon as you heard it,” Naya said. “Why didn’t you tell us about Lucia’s arrest this morning?”
The fingers of Jalance’s right hand twitched. “Because I went out to see if anyone knew more about the issue.”
“Did they?”
Jalance brushed at the front of his jacket, then glanced around the yard. “I would much prefer it if we didn’t discuss this in the open.”
Naya felt his unease like something crawling against the back of her neck. Suddenly the leafy trees and thick hedge seemed like weak protection from the forces seeking her. “All right,” she said.
Corten was waiting for them in the vault. He stood as soon as he saw Jalance. “Naya told me about the arrest. Has there been anything else?”
“Nothing we can act on.”
“What about the investigation?” Naya asked, stabbing at the newspaper with one finger. “King Allence is still helping the embassy. We have to warn him that Valn is the one behind all this.”
“Even if we had that kind of influence, there isn’t much the king can do. On paper Valn’s still acting within his rights according to the treaty. And other than your word, we don’t have any proof that he’s behind the disappearances. Anything King Allence does to block the investigation will only draw suspicion toward the Crown.”
“If he doesn’t block it, he’s just giving Valn the opportunity to plant whatever evidence he wants,” Naya said.
“I am aware of that.” Jalance’s words were clipped with anger. “But the situation is delicate. King Allence is accus
tomed to following Delence’s orders when it comes to Talmir. He’s never had a strong will, and right now all he probably wants is to make this problem go away as quickly as possible. If we try to make him see what’s really going on, he’s more likely to have us arrested than to listen.”
Naya crossed her arms. A part of her suspected Jalance was right. But that didn’t dampen the sense that they had to do something. “What if we sent a message to the courts at Banen and Silmar? Ceramor might not have all the rights the other Powers do, but they’re still protected by the defensive alliance. If we let the other rulers know what Valn’s trying to do, then maybe they can help us.”
Jalance shook his head. “It’s more than a week’s journey to Banen on a fast ship, longer if the winds don’t cooperate. It’s a little faster to reach Silmar, but it would still take days for a message to reach anyone significant. And even then we still have the same issues of credibility. It might be different if we had someone with access to the longscribers in the king’s message room. But as things stand, we have to assume Valn will have his say before we can get a message out.”
“Longscribers?” Naya asked.
“They’re rune devices,” Jalance said. “The Congress leaders started using them just a few years ago. A longscriber consists of a set of paired bone disks. If you tap out a message using one half of the pair, then the other half will mimic the movements even if it’s hundreds of miles away. The disks are fragile and tricky to use, but they’re the fastest and the most secure way to send a message.”
“And the king has one?” Naya asked.
Jalance nodded. “He has at least three, one for each of the other Powers. But as I said, we don’t have any contacts in the palace who could access them. The embassies representing the other Powers likely have longscribers connecting back to their own governments as well, but we face the same problem of credibility with them as we would at the palace.”
