Maltus released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “She sent me a wire shortly before she died. She insisted she had something urgent I needed to know, and that I should get on the next train to Lushden.”
Karyn’s cheek twitched slightly. “And you didn’t.”
“No,” he admitted. “I replied to the wire instead and asked for more information. Then a few days later I got the news.”
“If it was really vital, why didn’t she use a sending stone? I assume she knew how to contact yours.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not even certain it had anything to do with her murder, but it might have. We hadn’t stayed in close contact since I moved away.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that. You’re a busy man.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. They took her journal, Karyn. Simon took her journal.”
She frowned. “Her journal? What do you mean?”
“She was the Prophetess. I know you believed that once, even if you don’t now. Tara might have kept to herself and stayed out of politics, but she continued to have visions her entire life. I know—I knew—Tara. She wrote down even the most minor details if she thought they would ever become important.”
Karyn tapped her fingers on her desk. “How do you know it was Simon?”
“Who else?” he asked.
Her face twisted. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Not many other people believed in what she was, and even fewer knew she kept records. Now he’s on the verge of winning the presidency. If anyone knew something that could bring him down, it would be her.”
“You think she threatened him?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. He’s already tried to kill Tara’s daughter once, but I got to her first.”
“Goddess be merciful,” she breathed. “So you think he is looking for something specific?”
“Possibly. But when I got there, Eve—Evelyn, her daughter—told me she found a note penned to her from her mother. It instructed her to go to Vaschberg and meet with Gregori. Tara wanted her to take the journal to him.”
“Gregori?” Karyn asked incredulously. “Tara stayed in contact with that smut peddler?”
“Not to my knowledge, but maybe. I thought it was odd too, but he is a friend, at least.”
“He was a friend, Glenn. Valmeri was a long time ago. People change.”
“We changed,” he murmured. “And perhaps not for the better.”
She eyed him warily, leaning back in her chair with a blank expression. Finally her eyes seemed to soften and she rubbed her face.
“We all have regrets, but this isn’t the time,” she said softly. “So what’s really bothering you? Why did you come here?”
He sat down in the chair opposite hers. “The Enclave has been watching Eve since she was a girl, ever since…ever since I told them about Tara’s visions.”
“And you regret spying on a friend?”
“I regret that they believe the visions will come true, and that they think the moment is coming sooner rather than later. Now she’s caught in the middle of this tempest, and they aren’t sure how she’ll react.”
Karyn’s face seemed to shrink. “Don’t tell me they want her dead too.”
“Not yet, but that could change at any time. That’s why they want me keeping tabs on her.”
“But why tell me this? What can I do about it?”
“Because you’re my friend, Karyn, and I can’t say that about many people,” he told her. “I could once, and we left them all behind. I think…I think it’s time we all came back together. No matter what comes of this mess, we’re going to need allies. We’re going to need friends.”
She smiled tiredly and reached across the table to grab his hands. Her skin was cold, and her soothing gaze was about as warm as the brisk autumn breeze outside. Maltus wondered when that had happened, when she had transformed from a caring young woman into...well, into an adult so mired in the present that she never bothered to think about the future.
He also wondered if, when he looked in the mirror, he would see exactly the same thing.
“Like I said, we all have regrets,” Karyn whispered. “Goddess knows we should have seen this coming in Simon years ago. We swallowed his garbage from day one and it took us years to start to question it.”
“It wasn’t garbage,” Maltus insisted, a bit more sharply than he meant to. “Not all of it. He and Tara were right about the important things. They saw all of this coming thirty years ago.”
“Only because they created it.”
He grunted and pulled his hands away. “Whether they started it or someone else did doesn’t matter. The ideas were already out there; things like that find form eventually. People want change, Karyn, all across the country. They’re literally dying for it. Poleria taught us that much, I would hope.”
“He and Tara also believed people were reasonable, but they aren’t,” she said. “They’re easily manipulated, frothing hounds who don’t even know what they want half the time. I mean, by the Goddess, we let them elect Janel and look what happened. We give them a torbo president, and still they hate us! The country’s going to the void because Simon and Tara just couldn’t accept that things work the way they do for a reason.”
“In other words, you’d rather just tell the starving, disease-ridden families to shut up and do what we say.”
Her jaw visibly tensed as she shook her head. “Don’t try and pin this on me, Glenn. This is about you and the ghosts in your closet. I’m not even sure what you want me to tell you. You want me to just leave all this behind, go and rally our college friends and then what? Sit around and sip wine while we wax nostalgic? Listen to yourself!”
Maltus sighed. “You’re right. This is about me, but it’s also about us. It’s about doing the right thing. I don’t know what that is yet, but it sure as Shakissa isn’t sitting in one of these towers like lords of the land. We all understood that once.”
“We were kids, and that was a long time ago,” Karyn murmured. “We’re part of the real world now, and sometimes it’s an ugly place. You’re the one in the Enclave; Goddess knows you should understand that better than anyone.”
Maltus understood perfectly, but he wished he didn’t. A few years ago he could have easily been on the other side of that table—afraid of Simon, afraid of his Dusties, but most of all, afraid of change. Somewhere behind his demagoguery, Simon Chaval had a message that wasn’t easy to ignore. The world was changing, and those too stubborn to follow the tides would drown beneath their pull. No force in the world could stop the change now; it was simply a matter of how much would be destroyed in the process.
But Karyn had left that behind. Deep down Maltus had already known that, but he’d needed to be sure. He had to know if he truly was alone, and looking into the cold eyes of an old friend, he was more certain of it than ever.
“I’m sorry to dump all this on you,” he told her, smiling faintly. “I think Tara’s death hit me harder than I realized, and I know all of us are looking for solutions right now.”
She returned the smile, though it was little more than a ghost on her lips. “Like I said, I always hope you’re bringing a miracle when you come to see me. Sadly, it seems like we’re fresh out.”
“Maybe next time,” he said, bringing himself to his feet.
“He invited me to Cadotheia.”
Maltus froze. “Pardon?”
“Simon,” Karyn said. “He sent an invitation to Janel and I. He wants us to get together soon to discuss the election.”
“You’re not going, are you?”
“I think I need to. A lot of people haven’t accepted it yet, but there’s nothing I can do to change what’s going to come. Hopefully in person we can make some convincing arguments and pull him back to a more moderate posture.”
Maltus slowly blew a thin stream of air through his lips. “I’d bet my robes he murdered Tara, Karyn. Goddess knows what he’ll
try with you and the president going into Cadotheia. He’s almost a god there.”
“He doesn’t need to kill me to win the election,” she reminded him. “I know your employers say they won’t let him come to power, but I can’t control that. I have to work with what I have, and that means doing the best I can to negotiate for my people—for our people.”
Maltus turned back to the window. “Do what you need to do, Karyn, but be careful. Steamworks has its own personal army these days.”
She stood and walked over to him. “Look, I know you wanted my help and I’m sorry I can’t give you any, but I will tell you this much: no matter what happens here, keep that little girl safe.”
He turned, raising an eyebrow.
“We both have enough regrets,” she whispered. “You don’t need to live with any more of them.”
He smiled and embraced her. She wasn’t going to be his ally, but at least she wouldn’t be his enemy. It wasn’t what he had hoped for, but realistically it was probably better than he should have expected.
“I’ll keep in touch,” he said. “You be careful.”
“I will,” she promised. “And if you do end up talking to the others, tell them I wish them well.”
Maltus nodded and left. He didn’t look back until he reached the sidewalk and glanced over his shoulder. The great crystalline spire had long been an icon of Selerius, and in many ways it was a symbol for the magi class themselves. It had always represented freedom and power to the Arkadian people; the former because it was built just after the war for independence with Esharia, and the latter purely because of its meticulous construction. Right now, though, he couldn’t help but look upon it as more of a fortress—a last bastion of a dying empire about to collapse beneath its own weight.
He grimaced and turned back to the busy streets. A lifetime of memories washed over him, and despite the beauty of the city, he suddenly wished he had never moved here—or rather, he wished he had never moved away from Lushden. For all his regrets, it was the only one he couldn’t shake. Tara’s death had indeed hit him harder than he had thought, but it was, perhaps, exactly what he finally needed to bring his life into perspective.
The closest thing he had to a daughter was out there chasing down her mother’s killer, and soon the people he’d spent his life serving would instruct him to kill her. Karyn was right about one thing: the world they had wished to save long ago was far uglier than they had ever believed. But that didn’t mean it had to stay that way, and it didn’t mean he couldn’t still try to fix it.
Taking a deep breath, Maltus hailed a carriage. He had one last friend to contact…and another long-closed wound to reopen.
Chapter Nine
Gregori Danev rubbed vigorously at his left temple as he took a long draw from his cigarette. He hated almost everything about these things. They smelled terrible, they made a mess, and their cost was borderline criminal. They also didn’t carry the same prestige as a fine cigar, which was half the point in smoking the damn things. But they did help him relax, and right now that was all he cared about.
“They’re on their way up here,” Aram said from behind him.
Despite his best efforts, Danev jumped a little at the noise. He sometimes wondered if Aram did it on purpose, but that would imply the man had a sense of humor.
“Good,” Danev said, turning and flicking the remnants of his cigarette onto the rooftop.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Danev grunted. “No, but I think it’s necessary. I assume you disagree?”
“’Necessary’ might be a bit of a stretch,” Aram said, folding his arms as he peered over the edge of the rooftop.
“I always consider the acquisition of information a necessity,” Danev replied matter-of-factly. “Even if it is dangerous.”
“Or suicidal?”
“Now who’s stretching?”
Aram snorted softly. It was as much of a reaction as he ever showed, which meant his feelings on the matter were quite clear: he thought going to Cadotheia—straight into the lion’s den, as it were—was a terrible idea.
And only an insane or desperate man would disagree with him. Danev wasn’t sure exactly where he would put himself on that spectrum at the moment.
A minute later, the door to the roof opened and Zach and Eve walked up. They had largely kept to themselves in the two days since their arrival, and Danev couldn’t say he blamed them. As if living inside a stranger’s house in a foreign city wasn’t bad enough, a ruthless and powerful man was also trying to kill them. Oh, and they had a nightmarish creature following them around, too. Under the circumstances, they were doing far better than he would have at that age.
“Nice view,” Zach commented as he stepped out towards the railing and glanced down. Eve, for her part, crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose.
“You get used to the smell,” Danev said. “Unfortunately, it’s probably going to get worse where we’re going.”
Eve frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Danev took a deep breath. “A few of my contacts reported back. They didn’t know nearly as much as I’d hoped. None of them were absolutely able to confirm Chaval’s involvement, though that wasn’t unexpected. I still believe the Talami woman you saw is working for him, but I don’t know much beyond that.”
“So what do you know?” Zach asked.
Danev turned to Eve. “Tell me, did your mother ever mention a man named Jack Pollard?”
“Not that I recall,” she said, her brow furrowing as she searched her memory. “Though I guess with all the things I didn’t know about her, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“He was a part of the Valmeri Seven,” Danev explained, “though more importantly, he was Simon’s best friend at the time. I just found out that he’s still alive, and he’s living in Cadotheia.”
The two kids shared a look, and it was clear they immediately knew where this was going.
“If anyone knows what Simon is up to, it’s Jack,” Danev went on. “More importantly, if your mother did know something about Simon—some skeleton in his closet, for example—then Jack’s our best bet of finding out what it was.”
“You want us to go into Cadotheia?” Zach asked incredulously. “After Chaval already tried to kill us once?”
“If anything, that’s proof it doesn’t really matter where you are,” Danev pointed out. “But yes, as dangerous as it sounds—as dangerous as it is—I think it’s our best bet.”
Zach shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“It’s not your decision to make,” Aram put in.
Zach shot the man a cold glare. “It’s not yours, either. And let me tell you something—”
“We’ll go,” Eve said softly. She stared out distantly at the horizon as if she was trying to see something just beyond it. “If you think this man knows something worthwhile, then that’s who we talk to.”
“You can’t…” Zach trailed off as he looked at her, his head shaking. “Eve, we can’t go into Cadotheia. That’s Chaval’s base, for Goddess’s sake.”
“I know,” she told him, her amber eyes flicking up to Danev. “What else aren’t you telling us?”
Danev wet his lips. The girl was sharp, he would give her that. “I have my own contacts in Cadotheia—nothing as impressive as Chaval’s, of course, but enough that I’m comfortable going there. I can get us a place to stay, too, so that’s not an issue.”
“But?” she prompted.
“But,” he continued, “depending on what Jack tells us, I’m hoping we also have an opportunity to get back your mother’s journal.”
“You mean steal it from Chaval,” Zach reasoned. “Blessed Kirshal, you can’t be serious.”
Danev smiled coyly. “We’re not going to steal anything. My people, however, might be able to. If we’re able to get our hands on that journal, it would tell us everything we need to know.”
“And drive Chaval into a frenzy,” Aram pointed out.
“It’s a risk, certainly, but it’s also not a decision we have to make right now,” Danev said. “First, I want to talk to Jack. He’s the only other member of the Seven that still lives in this part of the country.”
Zach waved an annoyed hand in front of his face. “So let me get this straight: you want us to go to Cadotheia, the mage-hating capital of the country, and talk to an old friend who might be a Dusty sympathizer?”
“That’s the gist of it,” Danev said. “I agree it’s not an ideal solution, but the other choice is to do nothing.”
“The other choice,” Zach growled, “is for us to go home.”
“Which isn’t happening,” Eve told him. Her eyes continued to bore into Danev. “And what about the Vakari? You think she’ll follow us?”
Danev shrugged. “I don’t know, but that’s another mystery we might be able to solve. I’m hoping she’ll just reveal herself to us—assuming she is genuinely trying to protect you, anyway. We haven’t spotted her anywhere nearby, but I’m sure she’s lurking around.”
“She is,” Aram confirmed, peering over the roof edge again. “Somewhere.”
“I was hoping to learn more about her identity, but so far my contacts in the Enclave haven’t responded yet. Assuming they aren’t involved, I should know more by the time we reach Cadotheia.”
“Involved?” Zach asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“The Enclave uses the Vakari as assassins,” Aram told him, the disdain in his voice obvious. “I’ve never heard of them using one as a bodyguard.”
Eve glanced between the two men. “So what are you getting at?”
“The Enclave might be protecting you, or she may be acting on her own,” Danev explained. “The other option is that she may be working directly for Glenn Maltus.”
Her face sagged as her opinion of the man who had once been her neighbor sunk even farther. “Why would he send that…thing to look out for us? And why wouldn’t he tell us about it?”
“I wish we knew,” Danev said. “At this point, we’re drowning in questions. If you want to go home, I’ll understand, and if you want to stay, you’re more than welcome to do that, too. But I think our best bet is talking to Jack and seeing what we can find out. I admit, though, that waiting around doesn’t generally sit well with me.”
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