by Jae Waller
Falwen arched a pale eyebrow. “Can you prove that?”
I held it near the candles so he could see. The water orbs stretched into thin ropes and wrapped around the wire. A second later, they turned into mist — and reformed into perfect orbs where they started.
Falwen gazed at me for a long moment before turning back to his writing. “Go. Return it to its owner. I have a long night ahead.”
“But—”
“Go. Now.”
34.
LIKE MOTHS TO LIGHT
I hurried down Colonnium Hill. Caladheå was dark, lit only by tiny points of light like scattered stars. Black silhouettes of ships rocked against the violet horizon. A crow passed overhead like a ghost and followed me into a grove.
“What’s wrong?” Fendul said when he saw my face.
I held out the necklace. “Falwen said this came from Parr.”
Fendul’s eyes widened. “How did he—”
“Nili lost it during the battle.” I closed my hand around the chain. “Maybe an Iyo found it and came to Caladheå, but . . . I don’t know. I need to go talk to Parr.”
His mouth twisted. “You shouldn’t go alone.”
“Fen, if he wanted to hurt me he could’ve two days ago. You should be with the Rin.”
“Kako.” Fendul gripped my arms. “I let you and Nili come south alone and look what happened. I can’t lose another Rin today. And if Parr’s involved, I should know about it.”
I looked up into his dark eyes. “All right. Just . . . promise you’ll let me talk to him.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
I barely noticed the brick buildings slide past, or when the cobblestone streets changed to dirt as we left the city. A torch glowed at the southeast guardhouse, but the rest of the Roannveldt was as dark and soft as otter fur. Shadowy fields rippled around us. The willows along the lane to Parr Manor rustled in the breeze.
The outlines of the sloping roofs were like mountains against the inky sky. No light came from the windows. Leaves whispered around our feet in the half-moon courtyard. I tethered Anwea by a dead garden bed, crossed to the covered entrance, and knocked.
Fendul came up beside me, looking around at brick pillars wreathed with trailing vines. “Maybe he’s asleep.”
I knocked again harder, then crossed to the windows of the room where I spent the night with Parr. The square panes set in an iron grid rose twice as high as my head. I pressed my face to the glass and squinted in. Deep in the shadows, I saw movement. “Someone’s in there.”
“Parr?”
“I don’t know who else it’d be.” I banged on the window. “Antoch! It’s Kateiko!”
The door rattled. “Locked,” Fendul said.
I circled behind the manor, trying doors set into niches in the brick. The grounds were quiet except for droning mosquitoes. Worry grew in me like catching flame. Parr had been so sweet and gentle I couldn’t believe he’d avoid me.
“I have to get inside.” I stepped back into tall grass and eyed the windows, remembering my torn nails after breaking into Crieknaast’s town hall.
Fendul rubbed his forehead. “Unless you have a battering ram hidden somewhere . . .”
“There.” I pointed at an open window on the second floor. A dense mat of blazebine covered the wall around it.
Leaves scratched my hands as I fumbled in the foliage. I grasped a woody vine, scraped my boot against brick until I found a foothold, and pulled myself up. My sore muscles protested every move. Fendul muttered something and started up after me.
As I neared the second storey, my foot slipped. A branch jabbed my thigh wound. I cried out and lost my grip, hanging off the building by one hand.
“Kako!” Fendul caught my leg and supported me until I grabbed a vine. “Don’t die here. I can’t carry you all the way to Toel.”
“Shut up or I’ll fall on you.” I climbed until I hung next to the open window, then swung one leg over the sill and toppled inside. Pain jolted through my thigh.
I touched shapeless white objects in the gloom. Fabric draped over furniture, maybe a cabinet. The long, low object was probably a bed. Rectangles on the wall might’ve been paintings. I edged forward on creaking floorboards.
Fendul slid through the window. He unlatched a wooden case hanging from his belt and took out his irumoi, the thin rod covered with glowing mushrooms. Faint blue light pushed back the shadows and made our skin look translucent.
The only uncovered furniture was a desk with finely carved legs. I squinted at a dark shape on top. The sickly sweet scent of mothballs filled the air. “Ai, bring the irumoi here.”
Fendul drew closer. The shape was a polished wooden box, its lid askew. I dug through crinkling paper and pulled out a heavy wool coat. The elk sigil on the black sleeve was unadorned. Parr’s uniform would’ve had a red band for a captain.
My stomach twisted. “Parr’s son was a soldier. Maybe this was his bedroom.”
“You didn’t mention he had a son.”
“Because it’s weird.” I folded the scratchy fabric and set it back in the box. “His name’s Nerio. Tiernan mentored him in the military, but Parr said he’s been gone for half a decade . . . ohhhh. Oh, fuck.”
“What?”
“Nonil. A young Ferish soldier whose magic is almost identical to Tiernan’s. Parr trusted someone in the Corvittai—”
Fendul frowned. He pushed the box away.
I followed him into a corridor. Moonlight filtered through a smudged window at one end. I opened a door and found an empty room. No furniture, nothing on the walls. I backed away, disconcerted.
“Antoch?” I called.
Dust muffled our footsteps. Every door we passed was closed. Fendul checked one side of the corridor and I checked the other, but it was more of the same. A few pieces of furniture draped with white cloth, a few empty rooms. The air tasted like dead flowers.
When I found an open door, I stepped inside. Fendul stayed in the doorway, holding up the irumoi. The room was a mosaic of texture — panelled walls, filigree mouldings around soaring windows, a damask blanket on a wrought-iron bed. A candle stump and a thick book sat atop a table by a padded chair. The blue tinge made it look like we were underwater.
“We shouldn’t be in here,” I murmured.
“Is this Parr’s bedroom?”
“I think so.” I wandered further in, sinking into an embroidered rug. Guilt poked sharp needles into me, but when I saw trinkets scattered atop a lacquered cabinet, curiosity won out.
It looked like Parr had set them here while undressing. Goat-horn cufflinks, a black ribbon, his silver elk pin and green silk pocket square. I lowered my face to a crystal vial and breathed the spice of his cologne. Only then did I notice hoop earrings in a glass-topped wooden case.
I undid the latch. Three shelves unfolded like steps, separated into grids of shallow squares. I poked through the contents. A bracelet of glass beads, a brooch in the shape of a bird with a sweeping tail, a pendant set with a gem that looked viridian in the watery light. On the bottom shelf, I found a delicate gold ring.
I dropped it when I saw the etched knotwork. It clinked off the cabinet and bounced onto the carpet. Fendul strode forward and plucked it from the ground.
“What is it?” He held his palm flat, the ring balanced on his fingertips.
“Maika’s wedding ring.”
Fendul recoiled from his own hand. At the same moment, I heard footsteps.
I grabbed the ring and the irumoi. “Stay out of sight,” I hissed. The only answer was a rustle of black feathers.
“Kateiko.” Parr stood in the doorway, his dark hair tousled on his shoulders. He wore a loose white shirt, the collar unbuttoned. “What in god’s name are you doing?”
I thrust out the ring. “What are you doing with this?”
His expres
sion changed so quickly I couldn’t read it. “Kateiko—”
“The truth, Antoch.” I brandished the irumoi like a club.
“You will have it, I promise. Come downstairs.” Parr held out a hand. “Please.”
I felt sick at the sight of his rings, knowing they’d been all over my body, but it’d give Fendul a chance to get out from wherever he was. I jerked my chin at the door. “You first.”
He backed into the corridor. I slipped the ring into my purse and followed him down a spiral staircase, the iron balustrades casting warped shadows like bony fingers. Parr led me to the room with the brocade furniture and crystals hanging from the ceiling. He shut the door and lit a row of white candles on the hearth. I blinked as warm light washed out the blue glow. A bottle and glass of red wine sat on the polished table by the couch, reflecting rays that danced across the wall.
When he turned, I realized how worn he looked. There was a shadow of stubble on his jaw, a rip in his sleeve, mud on his boots past the ankles. His shoulders slumped. “Would you like to sit down?” he asked.
“Nei.” I stood on squares of glossy auburn wood, gripping the irumoi. “Talk.”
Parr picked up his glass and twisted the stem between his fingers. “The day after we flew to Se Ji Ainu, my Corvittai source told me you offered Suriel another mage. I checked the provincial mage registry, found Marijka Riekkanehl’s name, and guessed she might be familiar with Heilind’s work. I said nothing to the Corvittai. I hoped to discuss it with you and offer my help.
“The next day, my source asked me to locate you, and by extension, the anonymous mage. Apparently Suriel had tried to meet you and was unable. The city guard last recorded you heading north, so I, assuming you were at Riekkanehl’s home, went to warn you that the Corvittai were searching for you both. She said you had just left.”
“You set off the runelight,” I breathed. “Why didn’t you tell me when I asked about this?”
“Riekkanehl and I . . . argued about several things. My past with Heilind, my interest in you, and my association with the Corvittai. She demanded to know who my source was. I refused to say.” He set down the glass. “A good many angry words were exchanged. I was a soldier for eighteen years. Some reactions are ingrained for life.”
I reeled back. “But — two days ago you said—”
“I said I regretted if my actions had anything to do with her death.” His dark eyes fixed on me. “That will be one of the greatest regrets I carry to my grave. Riekkanehl was a good woman, a respected medic.”
Horror prickled my skin. “You murdered my friend!”
“I acted on instinct. I did not mean to kill her.”
The slender knife at his waist. I’d tossed it aside during our night together, never knowing what it had done. “Then why take her wedding ring? Is that — something you do? Steal from people you kill? Does everything in that jewellery case belong to dead people?”
He looked appalled. “Goodness. No. I knew Heilind would see it as a sign from Suriel. I hoped to return the ring one day, so I hid it among my wife’s jewellery.” A trace of annoyance crept into his voice. “Why were you looking through her belongings?”
“Trying to figure out why you had this.” I clamped the irumoi between my teeth, taking sick pleasure in how the glow must distort my features, and fished Nili’s necklace from my purse. The droplets sparkled like tiny oceans.
Parr’s jaw clenched. “Falwen asked you to look at it.”
“Yes. And I know where it came from, so be honest, Antoch.”
“I was at the battle today, observing only. One eye on your enemies and one on your friends, remember. I found three Corvittai dead in a lake. I carried their bodies to land — as one soldier to another — and found the necklace among a great deal of blood and kinaru feathers. I asked Falwen if it was of viirelei origin. Curiosity, nothing more.”
I pressed my lips together. “Do you know why the Corvittai attacked?”
“That is somewhat more complicated.” He twisted one of his rings. “Please sit, Kateiko. Your leg must hurt.”
I glanced at the trickle of dried blood on my thigh. It stung more than I wanted to admit. I put the necklace back in my purse and slowly sat on the edge of the couch, digging my nails into the brocade.
Parr took another glass from a cabinet and filled it with wine. When I refused, he set it on the table and sank into a chair. “What do you know of the Sverbian Rúonbattai?”
“Not much.”
“They were the most radical of several militant groups that sprung up around the Second Elken War.” He sipped his wine. “They blamed Ferish immigrants, ordinary people fleeing famine, for the crimes of a few warmongers.”
“They wanted to drive the Ferish out of Eremur, right?”
He nodded. “The Rúonbattai were worse than anything we had ever suffered. Murder, torture, entire villages razed, immigrant ships sunk, bodies thrown in the harbour. Two decades ago, during the flu epidemic that took my wife and thousands more, rogue Ferish took advantage of the weakened military and held a coup. It was a minor scuffle, but the Rúonbattai’s retaliation caused the Third Elken War.”
I picked up my glass and swirled the liquid around just to occupy my hand. The scent of pepper and cranberry wafted out. “I know about that. The Okorebai-Iyo’s children died in that war.”
“A new figure rose to prominence in the Rúonbattai shortly after. Liet was . . . almost a cult leader. He planned to wake the elemental spirits in hopes of turning them on my people, and recruited mages from Ingdanrad to help. Suriel, however, believed other spirits would interfere with his attempt to access the void. He resolved to stop Liet at any cost.”
My head snapped back up. “Suriel told me he wants to reach the void because other saidu don’t want him here. You’re saying he started trying before they woke?”
Parr raised his eyebrows. “I suppose that is why he swore you to secrecy. So nobody realized he was lying.”
“Fucking saidu,” I muttered.
“According to my source, eight years ago Suriel recruited Ferish mercenaries and destroyed the Rúonbattai in a single stroke. Those mercenaries later became the first Corvittai. It seems plausible. I was heavily involved in fighting the Rúonbattai and never knew why they simply vanished.”
“But the saidu woke anyway. Seven years ago, in the Storm Year.”
“The military long suspected a viirelei nation was assisting the Rúonbattai. It seems they succeeded where Liet did not. I only just learned which nation it was.”
“Who?”
“The Rin.”
I jerked to my feet. The glass slid from my hand, splashing wine on the woven rug. The irumoi rolled under the table. Its blue glow made the stain look like blood. “You’re wrong.”
Parr didn’t move. “I am not surprised they kept it a secret from your nation.”
“Wh—” I stared at him. “You still think I’m Iyo?”
He set down his glass. “You are listed as Iyo in the birth records,” he said slowly. “You asked me to call on the Iyo nation for the inquiry. You delivered a plea for Baliad Iyo’s release. You spoke of your family in Toel Ginu.”
“I’m Rin! You saw this!” I wiped charcoal off my kinaru tattoo. “Falwen recorded me as Iyo so I could get past the city guard!”
He was silent.
The realization hit me like a crashing wave. “You didn’t know it’s the Rin crest. You’re a councillor and you never bothered to learn—”
“I knew it is common in the north, where you said you grew up. I do not know the nuances of viirelei tattoos.”
“You could’ve asked!” I turned aside, knotting my fingers into my hair. “You don’t know who I am! You don’t care!”
“That is not true.” Parr rose and came around the table. “I care about you quite a lot. I did not want to make you uncomfortable by
prying into your life.”
I looked into his eyes. The peppery scent of wine rolled off him, but underneath there was something familiar — pine resin, sea spray. Up close, I saw dirt rubbed into his skin.
“Darling girl.” He reached for me, hesitated. “I am sorry I have upset you. Where you came from has no impact on my desire to see you happy and safe. You have . . . no idea how much you’ve affected me.”
“Tell me then.” My voice was quiet in the cavernous room.
His hands shook almost as much as his voice. “You bring light and life to this house in a way I have not felt in many years. I found joy somewhere I never expected.” He stepped closer. “My marriage was arranged. I was fifteen when I wed, seventeen when my wife passed. I was not in love with her, but her memory was all I had. Until you, my dear.”
Parr ran his thumb across my lips. “There is a brightness to you that rises above the grief and futility of our world. As I came to know you, I thought, ‘Perhaps I am not so alone.’ I have rarely felt so blessed as two days ago. I . . . do not know if this is love, but I would like to find out.”
He kissed me, gently at first, then with sudden fierceness. He tasted like wine, spicy and bitter at once. My lip stung where the Corvittai split it. For a moment, I was still.
When he reached toward my hair, I stumbled back, squishing on the wet carpet. “Nei. Don’t touch me.”
His hands fell to his sides. “Kateiko—”
“Is that why the Corvittai attacked us? Revenge for waking the saidu?”
He looked pained. “You really did not know any of this?”
“Nei. Until last winter, I thought the saidu were still dormant.”
“The Corvittai are primarily Ferish. They suffered greatly at the hands of the Rúonbattai. In their minds, eradicating the Rin is a safeguard against the rebirth of a dangerous militia — particularly given the Rin are reuniting with the most powerful viirelei nation in Eremur.”
It is safer than letting you live. “So Suriel didn’t send them.”
