by Terah Edun
“Who happen to have died already,” Sebastian added in a strangled voice.
Ciardis spared a sympathetic glance at the prince heir. Now that the room was clear, he was free to appear as he actually was: a young man barely older than school age desperately trying to hold together an empire that seemed to be falling apart like a sand castle in his hands.
Sebastian took a deep, panting breath. When he looked at Thanar, the prince heir said bitterly, “Sometimes I wonder if you are an avenging presence, sent to do everything in your power to break us.”
Thanar looked him over. “Maybe I was. But right now my goal isn’t to break you. It’s to see you through the fires of hell. And right now I’m telling you that we cannot do this without sticking to my plan.”
Sebastian cracked a smile. “A plan you’ve been very careful to keep under wraps until this very moment. When we have no other choice. No one else to turn to. No one else to foist this decision off onto. After all, the Emperor is dead.”
Thanar said placidly, “Well, do you really want to be known as the person who runs to Daddy when the going gets tough?”
Sebastian’s hand closed into a fist, though he managed to stay seated. “I want to be known as fair. As just. As a good ruler.”
“And I want to be king of my people,” Thanar snapped. “We don’t always get what we want. Right now you need to grow some balls and get with the program. Both of you. Because I assure you, if you don’t, there won’t be an empire around long enough for you to ascend your thrones and rule.”
“A threat?” laughed Sebastian with raised eyebrows. “From you? That’s rich. If we die as my late malicious uncle just did, well, so do you. The seeleverbindung bond has its downsides, after all.”
The daemoni prince shook his head in irritation. “Just a promise. You don’t play around with the wrath of gods, boy. You just don’t. We need to be ready.”
“And we will,” Ciardis interjected calmly. She could see their argument going around in circles for hours. Hours they didn’t have. She speared Thanar with a look. “So you have your plan. We will start with that. But let’s make some modifications. Beginning with the resurrected loyalists.”
“We can’t do this without them,” Thanar said placidly.
Ciardis scoffed. “I’m sure you believe that.”
“Don’t be pedantic, Ciardis,” said Thanar.
“Yes, Ciardis,” Sebastian said sarcastically. “By all means, please believe everything that comes out of this darkness-worshipping liar’s mouth.”
Thanar let his chair lean all the way back onto its back legs. “So we’ve progressed to name-calling, have we? How appropriate for a boy Emperor.”
Sebastian flew up out of his chair with a power that sent the already-unsteady furniture into the wall.
Ciardis froze. “Let’s just all calm down.”
“I am calm,” Thanar said with levity in his tone.
“I was calm,” Sebastian snarled. “Until he made us become—”
“Become what?” Thanar asked.
“Worse than my own uncle,” Sebastian snapped. “I didn’t let you kill him in order to become a worse despot than even he was.”
This time it was Thanar who stood up to confront the boy Emperor nose-to-nose.
“Let’s get something straight,” the daemoni prince said with icy carefulness. “You didn’t let me do anything.”
Ciardis gulped. She could actually see ice forming in the air. But she wasn’t sure which one of them was doing it. It could have been either. It could have been both.
She stepped forward and put a restraining hand on both angry males’ shoulders. With a firm push, she got them to step a few feet apart and no further.
Slowly, the only Weathervane in the room said, “It doesn’t matter who killed him. It doesn’t matter who sanctioned it. What matters is it’s done and we need to move forward.”
Sebastian snorted. “Forward? Forward into darkness and more deception?”
Ciardis straightened. “Forward to save this empire! I agree we never want to become what Maradian was. But we must do what we have to in order to get this done.”
“Including dark magic?” Sebastian said in a tight voice.
Ciardis’s voice deepened in anger this time. “Including dark magic. Including necromancy. Including binding rituals. Including whatever it takes to rid ourselves of this damned god, her minions, and whatever remnants of twisted power traps Maradian has left for us behind closed doors.”
Sebastian’s eyes shuttered. “You’ll make an excellent Empress. Cold. A person who is willing to do whatever it takes to rule.”
Ciardis looked back at him and said flatly, “Someone has to.”
20
Embittered silence settled over the group.
Finally Sebastian spoke. “It seems I can’t change either of your minds. We can either argue this to our deaths or let it go. I vote for the latter, plus one more thing.”
Maybe it was a peace offering, or maybe Sebastian was just weary of arguing.
Whatever it was, Ciardis was grateful for the change of direction which seemed to ease at least a little of the harsh vibes in the room. So she nodded and said in a semi-relieved voice, “What is it? Whatever it is, make it fast.”
Sebastian’s lips twitched. “Fine with me. It shouldn’t take long. Who’s up for a drink?”
“You know what? Anything to get through another meeting like the one we just had today,” Ciardis said.
“You’d think the one yesterday would be the one you’d most want to forget,” Thanar said saucily.
“There’s that too,” Ciardis replied with just as much sarcasm. “I need enough vineyard wine to drown in if I’m going to forget that.”
It was Thanar’s turn to look surprised.
“What?” cried Ciardis. “I can drink.”
Both males pinned her with acerbic looks. “Since when?” Sebastian had the gall to ask.
She put her hands on her hips and served him a cross look. “Since now. Since my mother disappeared and my friends all died and I’m facing imminent annihilation by a god and a cross-country trek to revive ley lines that have been dormant for centuries.”
Thanar snorted. “Well, I guess if those are your reasons…”
“They are,” snapped Ciardis.
“Then we can’t stop you,” said Sebastian solemnly.
Ciardis paused and looked them both swiftly in the eye. She even swiped through their minds for emotions and thoughts. But they were both careful to keep their minds as blank as they could as they knew they couldn’t block her out as effectively anymore with the seeleverbindung.
Their eyes told a different story.
Mirth danced in one person’s eyes.
Quiet consternation in another’s.
But neither said a word, and she couldn’t castigate them for the sense of laughter in the air.
So she moved away to the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the table and chairs. It was a rolling cart with wine, water, strong liquor, and glasses for the conclave members.
She filled three glasses with a bit more liquor than even she thought was proper, then made her way back to the table.
“I think this is exactly what we need. While ordinarily I wouldn’t do this, I think imminent destruction calls for something stronger than tea. To that end, I’ve filled these up high enough to make sure we take a bit of the stress off.” She set the drinks down carefully.
Sebastian didn’t look shocked. He looked grateful.
Thanar looked mildly amused.
“Well,” said the daemoni prince with a smooth sip from his glass, “it seems I’ve managed to convert you more than I thought.”
Ciardis didn’t bother looking at him as she took her drink and muttered, “Apparently so.”
“So now that we’ve settled this tit-for-tat conversation,” Thanar said cheerfully, “let’s get on with it, shall we?”
Sebastian huffed but said nothin
g else, while Ciardis rolled her drink around in her mouth. It was always a sucky day when only Thanar seemed to be enjoying himself. He delighted in blood and guts. If he couldn’t have physical pain, then emotional mischief would do just as nicely.
“Let’s,” said Ciardis gamely. She wished she had something stronger in her glass. Right now it was only giving her a light buzz. That wasn’t enough to counteract the maniacal gleam in Thanar’s eyes and the resolute pride that threatened to break apart everything they were working for in Sebastian’s.
How did my life come to this? Ciardis thought with no little amount of frustration.
After a few more sips, which she had hoped would ameliorate his hardline position, Sebastian looked at her and said in a pissed-off voice, “Do you even know what he’s asking?”
I guess not, she thought dryly. Though she couldn’t blame him really. She’d spent a good part of the day arguing in circles with Thanar on the very same subject, until he, too, wore her down.
“Yes,” she said, her voice trembling with the effort not to smash the glass in her hands on the table. “Yes, I do.”
She wanted to say that she didn’t agree with what Thanar was asking with every fiber of her being. But they already knew that. They could feel her revulsion for this plan, but by the same token they could also feel her burgeoning determination for it. As horrific as it was, set by the very rules the Empress had set down decades before, it was turning into their only hope. And despite surviving another day, they had precious little hope remaining. They all knew that Amani would and could swat them like flies. The question that remained was if their own personal powers and strength weren’t enough to defeat her, would the collective power of the empire harnessed through the ley lines do the trick?
As Ciardis stared at him firmly, she noted that she finally had Sebastian’s full and undivided attention. He looked a little scared.
Even Thanar looked impressed as she continued, “I don’t want to deal with the dead or the living dead again any more than you do. I think we’ve crossed that line far too many times before now. But we are standing at the darkest chapter of our lives, and if we want to make it to dawn, we are going to have to compromise.”
Sebastian scoffed and sat down. “I am willing to compromise. Sacrificing my morals is something else entirely.”
Thanar gave a trilling laugh. “My dear boy, I believe you left those in the snows of the North after you had an assassin and a truthsayer torture your poor dear wife-to-be.”
“Oh, nice one,” Ciardis snarled while giving Thanar a dark look. “I already discussed that with him and forgave him.”
Thanar shrugged. “Always happy to help to tear open old wounds.”
When Ciardis looked anxiously over to Sebastian, however, he seemed more darkly amused than angry at Thanar’s outburst.
“Yes, well,” the prince heir said carefully, “better to be up front about my betrayals than to sneak behind someone’s back and wipe all memory of them after the fact.”
The daemoni prince’s eyes widened in surprise, then he burst out in full-on laughter.
“Well, well, boy Emperor,” Thanar said while doubling over in laughter. “You’ve managed to surprise me yet. Well done. Someone has absorbed all the court has to offer on innuendos and callous sniping.”
Sebastian shrugged with a wave of his hand. “Someone had to.”
“Please, Thanar,” she begged. “Just get on with it. I don’t know if you’re dragging these details out to prepare us in some way for the blow or just to torture us. But I’m asking you, stop with the delays.”
“Right,” said Sebastian, “now where did we leave off? Oh, that’s right, you were telling us the ley lines needed to be set to the resonance signals of a very particular set of individuals. People unequivocally loyal to our cause.”
“Not just our cause,” Ciardis injected bitterly. “But to the empire. At least according to the instructions of some long-dead Empress.”
“Right,” said Sebastian after a pause. “Now, what else is there, Daemoni Prince?”
They both turned to look at him with calm expressions. Even anticipatory. Ciardis attempted to place a blank look on her face that suggested she wouldn’t fold under the pressure of Thanar’s coming words. Whatever they were.
Finally Thanar shrugged. “We can’t just have any loyalists.”
“Of course we can’t,” Sebastian said in a long-suffering voice as he set his glass back on the table with a thump. “I’m not even surprised. What do we need? Former child soldiers?”
Thanar looked over at him askance. “Do you have any?”
Sebastian hissed back at him through gritted teeth. “Of course not.”
“Oh, then no,” Thanar said with a dismissive wave.
Ciardis felt a curious buzzing in her head. It could have been the liquor affecting her thought processes. But it was more like the angry buzzing of bees. Like a noisy crowd had descended into her head and was interfering with her ability to read thoughts. Or emotions.
Ciardis touched at the cloud lightly. Wondering what it represented. She pondered on it for a moment and when she emerged she still wasn’t satisfied with what she had found.
It was of no matter, though, because Thanar’s next words grabbed her full attention.
“The loyalists will be former friends,” Thanar said in a carefully respectful tone. “We’re going to resurrect the ones our dear departed Emperor so cruelly killed.”
Ciardis wanted to ask, Like who? But she knew.
She hadn’t even seen the bodies yet—too many things had happened in the intervening time—but she knew.
“Meres,” said Thanar carefully, “will guard the first nexus point to the ley lines.”
Ciardis was silent. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. So the only voice in the room was Thanar’s.
“Terris will guard the second,” Thanar continued. “Vana will be placed at a third point, and Caemon at a fourth.”
Ciardis’s mouth was dry. She’d avoided speaking their names for days. Her nights had been restless since their deaths. She’d almost managed to force them out of her mind. But everything came back when Thanar spoke their names.
Terris’s laugh.
Caemon’s forthrightness.
Meres’s kindness.
Vana’s approval.
The emotional ties to them were almost overwhelming. Almost. But they couldn’t consume what she knew was the truth: anything that could stop the rampaging goddess was the right thing to do. Even if her heart didn’t agree with the moral justification for it, her practical nature was sitting on that disagreement like a whale.
Ciardis immediately wanted to object to his proposal. To say this was wrong. But she couldn’t force the protest from her mouth. She couldn’t.
So she swallowed deeply and she didn’t pretend to be interested in the “moral good.” She didn’t want to know how Thanar would resurrect her friends. She didn’t very much care about the “why” part they had been discussing for the past hour. That was over. That was done with.
At the moment her only desire was to know one thing.
Licking her dry lips and in a voice that cracked with hesitation, Ciardis Weathervane looked the daemoni prince squarely in the eyes as she leaned forward and said, “If we do this…will they live?”
There was hope in her voice. Ciardis Weathervane could have lied to herself and said she was only thinking of the good of the empire when she didn’t object to the names. But bringing them back to life. Bringing her friends back. She would have done anything. Said anything to reverse the suffering they had all gone through in the past week.
So she waited with bated breath for his answer.
Thanar didn’t hesitate. “No,” he said softly. “Golden Eyes, they’ll go back to the earth from which they came the moment they serve their purpose.”
She sat back down with a thump.
“Will it hurt? Will they know?” Ciardis asked numbly. “Will they b
e aware that they are alive…or will they be like the mindless forms in Kifar?”
Thanar quickly slashed his hand through the air in denial. “They’ll be nothing like Kifar. In fact, they won’t even be awake. Their bodies will resurrect with their minds in slumber.”
Sebastian gave a cruel laugh. “What a kindness.”
Thanar didn’t rise to the bait of his sarcasm. Instead, he simply said, “Yes.”
“Is there anything else?” Ciardis finally asked.
This time Thanar looked pained.
“Oh, of course,” Sebastian crowed in mock mirth. “There’s always more. Tell us, dear Daemoni Prince.”
Thanar stood and paced. Then he put a hand on the back of an empty chair and rustled his wings in agitation. Ciardis didn’t interrupt his thought process. He’d speak when he was ready.
Finally Thanar reluctantly said, “I may have acted too soon.”
No one said a word.
With a grimace Thanar added, “After I spoke with the scholar, I learned that the ley line trap needs one more person at a fifth nexus point. A focus, if you will, who will activate the spell with their presence.”
“Who?” asked Ciardis hollowly, half expecting it to be herself or Thanar.
It made sense, after all. Saving the worst of the news for last.
Thanar squeezed and shattered the wood back of the chair his upper body was resting on. She could tell he hadn’t meant to by his surprised expression.
When he looked back up at her, after ignoring the light dusting of splinters in his palms, he sounded pained. “We need a blood imperial.”
“To set the trap?” She wasn’t exactly stunned by the revelation.
“Yes,” said Thanar with a shrug. “The Empress trusted no one with the setup of the ley line traps and demanded dead loyalists be her macabre guards for each nexus. It makes sense that she would allow only trusted family to be able to set it off.”
“Hmm,” Ciardis murmured.
Sebastian spoke up diplomatically. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
Thanar looked over at him with pained surprise on his face.
“What? Did you think you were the only one with a bit of bravery in them?” the prince heir asked bitterly. “How long will this take?”
