Ranaiah pursed her lips. Her eyes turned to Kaijin. There was no love reciprocated in them as Kaijin had once remembered. Instead, her gaze was hard and determined like the leader she was. “Kaijin, I dare ask how you managed to acquire him, and what has happened that he has become so humble—like the real Vargas I know.”
Kaijin retold his story, and everyone listened intently. When he finished, everyone, including Ranaiah, looked taken aback.
“I ask for your forgiveness, Priestess,” Vargas said, sinking to his knees before her. “I would never wish any harm to you or anyone else here.”
Ranaiah looked down at him a moment, then reached down and pulled him up. “No, there is no need for that. What worries me is if this could happen again. If you are so susceptible to such corruption, what is to say some other monster does not attempt to possess you again?”
“With all due respect, Priestess,” Kaijin said, “this could have happened to anyone—including you.” It pained him to think what might’ve happened if the afriti possessed her. “Za’thaak required a mortal host to do his bidding. But a Firebrand has the ability to control rogue creatures like Za’thaak, who have been released from the Firelord.”
“Yes,” Ranaiah said, tapping her chin. She called over two of the gawking acolytes to her side. “As high priestess, I must ensure what is best for the Firelord’s sanctuary, and His followers. For now, Vargas, you will be placed on probationary status until you can once again prove your worth to lead at my side.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Take him away.”
Vargas didn’t resist the acolytes’ hold. He walked with them toward the western wing and to a set of stairs leading down into darkness.
Ranaiah dismissed the other clerics gathered, then, with a small tilt of her head, beckoned Kaijin to follow.
Kaijin said nothing as they exited the atrium and walked down a familiar hallway leading to the same meeting room the two of them had once met in. When they entered, Kaijin felt his bag twitch, and he opened the flap to set Miele free. Ecstatic, Miele flew around the room.
Ranaiah gestured to a seat at the long, wooden table. While Kaijin got situated, she started up the fireplace by placing a log from an adjacent stack in it and extending her hand to the log, speaking a soft prayer, and summoning a small ball of white flames that encompassed the log. The bright light simmered to a deep orange, producing a calm, dim glow in the room and a soothing heat.
Kaijin leaned his elbow on the table, the side of his face rested against his fist, and watched admiringly. “You know, I could’ve done that for you instead.”
Ranaiah finished and brushed dirt from her hands. She stared at the fireplace a moment, then suddenly buried her face in her hands. Kaijin heard light sobbing.
He blinked and scrambled out of his chair and over to her. “Ranaiah, what is wrong?”
A tear in the corner of her eye sparkled in the dim light. “They are going to kill him and Masrah. I know they will.”
Frowning, Kaijin wrapped one arm around her waist. He took her hand in his. “They won’t.” His heart pounded and he thought over his words a moment. I hope I am right.
Ranaiah snatched her hand away and her body became rigid. “How can you say that? They were both involved in a murder!” She looked at him.
Kaijin bit his bottom lip. “My master has some influence in the Council. I think he will be able to prevent death from being an option. Besides, your brother proved merit when he helped us stop the afriti. It will be difficult, but Master Jarial will take everything he can into account.”
She folded her hands, and brought them up to her lips. “I will pray that I will be able to see my brother again someday.”
“You will, Ranaiah. Please don’t mourn for him. He wants you to be happy. And so do I.”
“How can I possibly be happy at a time like this? To know Tachus is in the hands of the Council, who will do gods know what to him.”
“Please trust me.” Kaijin paused and looked at her hands, still clasped. He gently took her arm and pulled until her fingers unclasped. He brought one of her hands to his lips. “I have some some good news that may offset that.”
Ranaiah tilted her head to the side curiously. “What is it?”
“Well the first part of the good news is that your family’s honor will not be shamed as much as it could have been if Tachus didn’t agree to turn himself in. As a result, your nephew, Saris is slated to ascend as the new leader—the new Shak’ha—of Zebi in Tachus’s stead.”
Ranaiah blinked. “Truly? I suppose that is good news that he is ascending. I only hope that he does not rule like his father....”
“Well, I don’t think you will have to worry about any more family feuds. Both Tachus and Amil have seemingly settled with a truce. And ...” His heart thumped. “They agreed on one other thing....”
Ranaiah furrowed her brow.
Kaijin closed his eyes and kissed her hand softly, indulging in her sweet scent and taste that he’d missed. He mulled over his thoughts. What if she does say no? Then his master’s words returned to him.
Take that chance.
“Kaijin?” Ranaiah called when he didn’t speak right away.
Kaijin opened his eyes, looking longingly in her deep, brown eyes. He rubbed her hand gently with his thumb. “Ranaiah, I ... want you to know that I ... I love you. More than anything in the world. You mean everything to me. I would live and die for you.” He felt as though his heart would pound right out of his chest.
Ranaiah’s eyes widened slightly, and she drew in a small breath. “Kaijin,” she whispered.
His mouth went dry. This was probably the hardest thing he could ever do. If she did say no, how could he bear to look at her the same again? His mind raced about what he should do. The feeling of rejection loomed over him like a heavy cloud.
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Her eyes turned to his necklace. She hesitantly reached out and ran her fingers over it.
Kaijin stiffened and willed the necklace’s power to not burn her. He watched as her slender fingers glided along the flame’s golden crevices.
“You could have killed Za’thaak with the power of your rage, but instead, you calmed him,” she continued.
Kaijin smiled. “It is because of you, Ranaiah. I remember so clearly at that moment of darkness. I heard your voice. I saw your beautiful, smiling face. You were that advent of peace that I needed.” He interlocked his fingers in hers. “Marry me, Ranaiah.”
It seemed to take a moment for his words to register in her, but when they did, Ranaiah gasped, and she stepped back. “W—What?”
Just getting the question out had felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest, but her shocked expression filled him with dread. “I now realize that you are the balance that I need in my life. You are the one who can quell my rage, be a light in my times of darkness. I want to live the rest of my life in balance—and peace—with you. Please say you’ll marry me.”
“Kaijin, I ...” She looked away. “I cannot. I have many duties as a high priestess.”
Kaijin’s heart sank. “Duties ... You once said that I was your highest priority. What if our union is what Ignis desires? A Firebrand, and an Ignan high priestess? Together, we would be powerful, able to transform the Pyre into something even greater. His flames would burn even brighter.”
“That ... That is true, but ...”
Kaijin stepped closer to her, then placed both hands on the sides of her face. I can’t give up. Not yet. He brought his face closer to hers. “I’m scared, too. But I know we can make it work. It shouldn’t matter what other people think about us. You are a great leader here. Very strong. And I would be the luckiest man in the world to have someone like you for a wife.” He glanced down at her lips, then leaned in to kiss them gently. His eyes burned from the tears that welled up in his eyes. His heart cried out for her. It was too late for him to hold back his feelings now.
She tensed a moment, then she re
laxed in the kiss and returned it a little more strongly. She exhaled through her nose.
“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about you during my journey,” Kaijin continued between kisses. “And I must thank you for loaning me this ring. It saved my life. You saved my life.” He broke from the kiss and twisted the ring off his finger and handed it back to her.
Ranaiah looked at the ring blankly. She took the ring from his palm, lifted his left hand and placed the ring on his fourth digit. She kissed the ring, held his hand against her beating heart, and then kissed his lips. “I will marry you, Kaijin.”
XXXV
An emergency meeting was called later that night when Jarial and Omari arrived at the Citadel with Tachus and Masrah in tow. As the rest of the Citadel slept, the Council of the Nine gathered in the main meeting chamber.
Jarial sat in his old seat, the one for the Fifth Seat, Illusion. Next to him sat Omari, who observed the meeting in silence. Percival sat atop his shoulder and looked around curiously.
In most cases, Jarial would have not even thought about trying to spare someone like Tachus. But his journey had opened his eyes about many things, namely Kaijin. Jarial could no longer help the man whom he had thought of as his own son. Kaijin was beyond the help of mortals. He was a man purposed for divine things.
Killing Tachus would prove nothing but further the feud between the two families. And mixing Kaijin in that feud would only result in disaster.
Sable purred in his lap, breaking Jarial from his thoughts, and he gave her a loving scratch behind her ear. She closed her eyes contentedly and purred louder.
Maira, who sat to his left, nudged him in the arm with her elbow. “I hope you know what you plan on saying about all this,” she whispered.
Jarial looked at her sourly. He really didn’t have anything planned, and simply hoped that everything fell in place naturally. “I plan to speak the truth and pray the Council decides wisely,” he whispered back.
Elder Burke stood from his seat at the head of the table. “Thank you all for coming at such a late hour. I now call this meeting to order.” His gaze turned to Jarial. “Master Glace, if you may.”
Jarial inclined his head. “Yes, Elder.” He cleared his throat. “Honored Councilmembers, after thorough investigation and extensive travel throughout Aransiya and Ankhram, I have sought out the ones responsible for Master Faulk’s untimely death.” He gestured to Tachus and Masrah, and all eyes followed his direction. “This is Tachus and Masrah Beshara. Tachus is the one responsible for conspiring this murder, and Masrah is the one responsible for carrying out the act.” He paused and looked at Tachus directly. “Tachus Beshara, do you admit to this crime?”
Tachus shot Jarial a glare, then took a deep breath as he faced the other Councilmembers. “Yes, I do. And I will say that I deeply regret his death.”
The Councilmembers glared and scowled at Tachus and murmured amongst themselves. Elder Burke held up his hand to silence them. “Please go on,” he said to Jarial.
Jarial nodded curtly, then looked to Masrah. “Masrah Beshara, do you also admit to this crime?”
Masrah lowered his head and, keeping silent, nodded.
Jarial arched an eyebrow. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”
Masrah shook his head.
“Masrah has taken a vow of silence ever since he began working for me,” Tachus explained. “I shall answer in his stead. That is correct that he is responsible for carrying out the act of killing your fellow Councilmember.”
The Councilmembers exchanged glances with each other again, their scowls deepening.
“Well, then,” Burke said. “If they do indeed admit guilt in this despicable crime, then there is only one viable punishment for this.”
Tachus’s eyes widened. He gave Jarial a hard look.
Jarial caught his gaze and then cleared his throat again to get the elder’s attention. “Elder, before you pass judgement too soon, there is something you should know. Recently, there had been a rogue priest who had been in possession of an afriti, who had turned away from its master, the Firelord, Ignis. The afriti had grown powerful and nearly set an entire Ankhran city ablaze. It was very reminiscent of what happened to Easthaven.”
The mention of Easthaven got everyone’s attention, and they scooted on the edges of their seats.
“Part of me thinks that the afriti could have had some influence on its destruction, too,” Jarial continued.
“Did you not say that Xavorin was at fault?” Gwenneth asked.
Jarial nodded. “Yes, and I do stand by my reasoning on that, however, the city was smoldering in the wake of its destruction, so one cannot rule out the possibility of the afriti making its presence there as well at some point.”
Omari opened his mouth to say something, but after Jarial cast him a warning gaze, he wisely closed it.
“Both Tachus and Masrah assisted us in stopping this afriti, both nearly losing their lives to protect the innocent and preventing a devastation that might have surpassed Easthaven’s.”
The Councilmembers gave reluctant nods and turned to each other, muttering. Burke silenced them again.
“That does not excuse the fact that he and his accomplice murdered a man in cold blood,” Burke said.
Jarial pursed his lips. “No, it does not, however, I think there is merit in them both to risk their own lives to protect others, would you all not agree?”
More murmurs rose from around the table.
Burke rubbed his temples, as he thought.
Virgil slammed his fist on the table, and everyone jumped with a start. Sable hissed from Jarial’s lap.
“Is this so hard to comprehend? Those two men killed our fellow brother! They deserve nothing more than death!” A few other Councilmembers nodded in agreement.
Jarial gritted his teeth. Damn you, Virgil.
As the voices around the table rose, Burke silenced them again. “There is only one way to settle this: a vote.” He nodded to Lars. “Master Ustan, if you may.”
Lars quickly got up and hustled to a nearby desk where he retrieved a stack of parchment, some quills, four inkwells, and a small burlap pouch. He gave the pouch to Burke, and then set a parchment and pen before each member, uncorked the inkwells and placed them around four points on the table, and then he sat down.
“Based on all that you have heard here,” Burke explained, “if you feel that Tachus’s sentence should be death, then write ‘yes’. If what you heard does not justify a sentence as death, then write ‘no’. When you are done, fold the paper several times and place it in this pouch.”
Jarial picked up the quill and stared at the blank parchment. He looked beside him at Omari, who stared back at him, frowning. Omari didn’t have voting tools, as voting was reserved for the Councilmembers only.
Everyone began writing in silence. Jarial could feel Tachus’s stare as he tapped the undipped quill against the parchment until the paper began to pockmark. He looked discreetly at his peers, who wrote with their hand covering the paper. Yates and Lars finished first, and hastily submitted their folded slips. Soon, one by one, everyone else began turning in their slips until Jarial was last. Pursing his lips, he quickly dipped his quill in the inkwell and, shielding the parchment with his hand, wrote ‘no.’ He heard Omari clear his throat, and he looked beside him as he folded the parchment into a small square. He didn’t care whether Omari had seen his answer or not. Jarial slid back his chair and got up, Sable hopping off his lap and sitting beside his chair. He glanced at his peers a moment before dropping his ballot in and returning to his seat. Sable hopped back into his lap, curled up, and resumed purring.
Burke stood from his chair. “Thank you, everyone. Now, let us begin the vote.” He shook the bag and pulled out the first ballot.
Jarial scooted to the edge of his seat and held his breath. Gods, please spare this man.
“One ‘yes,’” Burke announced, placing the unfolded parchment aside.
Jarial exhale
d and looked around the table. Virgil sat back against his chair, looking smug.
Burke pulled out the next ballot and unfolded it. “One ‘no.’”
Virgil curled his lip and glared at Jarial. “Of course, Jarial would be the one to say ‘no,’ defending every low-life he comes across.”
Jarial narrowed his eyes. “You do not know whose vote that was!”
“I don’t know why we are even doing this in the first place. Why would anyone here spare these two after their crimes against Master Faulk?”
Burke’s voice boomed across the table before Jarial could retort. “Enough! We must follow proper protocol!”
Jarial was grateful for Burke’s reply, but it did little to quell his anger. Jarial wanted nothing more than to see Virgil replaced, but he knew that would never happen. It had been one of the many reasons he had initially left.
“Two ‘yes,’” Burke continued, taking out the third ballot.
Virgil raised his nose up at Jarial, his sneer twisting to a smirk. I’ll gladly wipe that smirk off that bastard’s face, Jarial thought.
“Three ‘yes,’” Burke said.
Jarial rubbed his hands nervously. Only two more ‘yes’s’, and he’s done.
“Two ‘no,’” Burke said.
Garmin cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence in the chamber. Jarial heard Tachus behind him, shifting his weight. Sable moved in his lap, and she batted at Percival, who remained on Omari’s shoulder.
“Three ‘no.’”
Hope rose in Jarial, but he kept the feeling off his face.
“Four ‘no.’”
Virgil reeled. He looked around the table, dumbfounded. “How can you people possibly spare this man?”
When no one responded, Omari leaned over to Jarial and asked quietly, “What is with him, Master Glace?”
Jarial smirked slightly and muttered back, “Ironically, he acts and sounds like you.”
Omari scowled. “I do not act or sound like that!”
Flameseeker (Book 3) Page 33
