Season of Glory

by Lisa Tawn Bergren

  “Allow my brother to do this,” Kapriel said, gesturing toward Keallach.

  Keallach’s eyebrows curved together in surprise. “Are you certain?”

  “Why not?” Kapriel asked. “The gifts of the Maker are almost better used to serve the Community than they are to repel our enemies.”

  “Agreed,” Keallach said. “Please, friends,” he said to the workers. “Stand aside.”

  They scrambled over the ledge and closer to us, their combined curiosity making me want to burst with hope and excitement. Keallach bent his head in prayer and then lifted his hands, as if holding the boulder in the distance. Then he turned his cupped hands, as if turning the boulder itself, and the giant stone began to move. People gasped and shouted as the crowds caught up in time to see what the newest Remnant could do.

  And what he could do was impressive. Over and over, the boulder rolled, across smaller rocks, all the way to the left side of the entrance. “About there?” he asked the man in charge of the task, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

  “That’ll do, Prince Keallach,” said the man with a nod.

  “Anything else?” Keallach asked.

  Surprise made the man’s eyes widen and then narrow in consideration. “Well, if it’s not too taxing, if you could move this”—he went over to another massive boulder, bigger than the last—“next to the first one. We hope to create another rolling stone barrier.”

  “Done,” Keallach said, bending his head again. Then he repeated the actions.

  We all watched in wonder as Keallach mentally rearranged the stone debris to reconstruct the gateway, increasing its defensibility and strength even beyond what we’d had before. When he was done, sweat poured down his face, and his shirt clung to his damp chest, but he’d refused to stop. The workers turned and applauded him, and so did we.

  “Rather convenient to have such gifts on our side, don’t you think?” Vidar quipped from my side. Kapriel was turning snow in the air, grinning as the people exclaimed while he cast the streams of white in an elegant coil upward.

  “That is what Sethos longed to control,” Ronan said. “Both the twins, on his side, rather than on ours.”

  “It was a clever plan,” I said. “Even when Keallach was with him, it kept Kapriel from all he was meant to be.” I gestured toward him. “It was if he’d been hobbled. Now …”

  Now we could both see. When we’d been called, we’d had no idea that the twins might be a part of our divinely appointed circle. And with them both gaining full command of their gifting and our people, it felt like we had a hundred helicopters at our disposal.

  We entered the Citadel and made our way to the gathering hall for a meeting that Kapriel and Keallach had called. Joining us were the elders in the first few rows, those in our inner circles above them, and then as many others as the room could hold. I was a bit surprised at how crowded it was, but many were anxious to know what was next and how we planned on responding to the threat of more attacks.

  When the twins stood, the room grew silent.

  Kapriel stepped forward, his face grim, as Keallach took a seat. “Brothers and sisters, thank you for meeting with us today. Niero, Keallach, and I have been talking at length over these last days, as we grieved our dead and started to rebuild. No one knows what Sethos, the Council, and Pacifica are capable of better than Keallach and Cyrus. And what they have shared with me is frightening. Not only does Pacifica plan to dominate the Trading Union—usurp her into the empire—but they also plan on eradicating every one of the faithful within those new borders. They shall not take us prisoner or enslave our children—their mission is simply to murder every one of us and anyone associated with us, in an attempt to eradicate people of the Way, now and forever.”

  He paused and swallowed hard as many people in the room either gasped or shouted in outrage. “We’ve seen it here, ourselves,” he went on, gesturing toward the passageways. “They did not spare our children. Their goal is genocide. They have finally figured out that you might outlaw naming or worshiping the Maker, but you cannot stop it from happening inside us.” He put his hand on his chest. “The faithful will remain forever faithful, because persecution only sends us into deeper, more hidden territory where we can be free to worship and live as our hearts demand.”

  He lifted his chin and looked slowly around the room. “Brothers and sisters, Keallach and I feel it is time to come out from hiding. To cease running. To reclaim what we were born to govern—Pacifica herself. We believe it is not wise to remain here, awaiting the next attack. We believe it is time to take the fight to our enemies and destroy those that threaten our goal to return life, in its fullest, to every person, in every land we can touch.”

  I stared at him as I absorbed the collective mix of surprise, chagrin, and pride that swirled about the room. We Ailith knew what was coming; what we didn’t know was how our people might react. Everyone began to speak and shout at once. I saw Azarel and Asher share a troubled look, as if this wasn’t what they expected out of Kapriel. I supposed they’d spent years trying to rescue their prince from the prison in Pacifica; the last thing they’d imagined was his returning to that land. But Niero stood behind the brothers, in full support.

  It was then that I saw it. Kapriel and Keallach thought of themselves as superior. Born to be co-regents, with undeniably the strongest gifts among us.

  I checked myself. Was I jealous? Was I being petty, because I somehow felt left out or less-than? Was this simply another echo of the evil that Sethos had planted in my heart, coming out at a critical juncture when the twins most needed my support?

  No, Niero said to me silently. It’s simply a shift in the dynamics of the Ailith. Stay together, as close as possible. Refuse anything that divides you.

  Tressa rose from her seat, and I looked to her in surprise. She rarely spoke in larger groups, unless pressed. “The Way is a path of peace,” she said, her voice high and clear. “The Way is a path of healing and joy. It is one thing to defend ourselves from the enemy; it is quite another to attack.” She looked to our brothers. “But the Maker has led us to this place. Given us the opportunity to free those our enemies have enslaved and protect ourselves from the coming slaughter. I fully stand behind this plan. We will enter Pacifica, and in time there will be others there who come to know the gifts the Way brings.”

  “There is nothing that surprises the Maker,” Kapriel said. “And we believe,” he said, pausing to look at his brother, “that he plans to use us all to usher in a time of peace. Of hope, for a weary world on the brink. Are we not an example of what could be, here in the Citadel?” He looked up and around the room. “Even after we’ve suffered terrible losses?”

  People nodded and murmured their assent.

  “It is one thing to win over people who have nothing to lose,” said a Drifter, rising to his feet. “It is another thing to win people who have everything they need.”

  More sounds of assent rose around the room.

  “But they don’t have everything they need,” Kapriel put in. “They worship nothing but themselves. Their women make up their faces, as if to say they are above death. Immortal. And yet they are plagued by infertility, when they each long for new life above all else. Children of their own.”

  “And so they steal ours!” called out a woman from Georgii Post.

  Keallach took a deep breath and looked to me. “It is true. Pacificans are in as dire need of the Way as any others. And if we were to lead them, if we had their resources at our fingertips, there would be plenty for all in the Trading Union.”

  “At what cost to them?” I asked. “Are you so certain that the people of Pacifica would agree to share, if it meant they had less?” I’d seen them firsthand. Witnessed their wealth. And was not at all certain they would give way to generosity.

  “Not with Sethos and the Council leading them,” Keallach responded. “We cannot win over the people of Pacifica if her dark guardians block our path or, worse, succeed in their goal of
killing us. They have to be eradicated. It’s us or them.”

  The room erupted with applause and shouts. We were weary of being the hunted. Power surged in and through us. Was this truly our time?

  I swallowed hard, remembering the sheer, dark hate in Sethos’s eyes, in Lord Jala’s too. And how they’d sent those Sheolites into the Citadel, bent on tracking me down, killing me. They’d murdered Chaza’el. Tried to kill Vidar.

  Keallach’s eyes sparkled when he saw that he’d managed to give me something significant to consider. “You know it’s true. More than any other here, Andriana, because you’ve seen it yourself. They shall be relentless in their pursuit of us. You think the last attack was the worst they can bring us?” He waved upward. “Despite our gifting, they will continue to find ways to surprise us, murdering us one by one, as they did Chaza’el. They will not be planning just a few more attacks upon us here, hoping to take one Remnant each time. They will plan on waves of attacks.” Cyrus nodded, behind him.

  “So what do you propose?” Vidar asked. “Lay a trap for the dragon and cut off his head?”

  Bellona said, “We could lay waste to the aqueduct feeding their cities. And when they come to repair it …” She lifted a brow as others loudly agreed around her.

  “Except Sethos is far too clever for that,” Keallach said, lifting his hands to settle them, his tone reasonable, not condescending. “And his intention is to focus on offense, rather than defense. He’ll know that the losses of our people will galvanize us. That it will press us to become more vigilant in our defenses. I believe it is only because Zanzibar has come to our aid, setting up a defensive force in the desert even this day, that they have not yet come again. But they will come. They will send countless Pacificans to their deaths in relentless fighting, hoping that, in time, they’ll be lucky and kill one or two of the Ailith and elders here, another couple there, until every leader you have is gone and our various tribes again scatter.” His eyes narrowed, and his jaw muscles flexed as he looked about the room. “They are determined—as I once was with them—to eradicate the faithful and all who follow or support us. Because they want domination.”

  “Am I not the perfect example of that?” Kapriel said softly, stepping forward. His words hung in the air. “Sethos hoped I would die in that island prison, or turn from the Way. Next time, he won’t wait.”

  Keallach turned to me. “Andriana can testify to it too. What Sethos and the Council are like. The lengths they’re willing to go to press their way.”

  Startled at him calling me out, I stared back into his eyes. They covered me: warm, concerned, apologetic … and oddly intimate. I felt Ronan tense beside me. I frowned at Keallach in confusion. But the people all looked to me now, waiting for me to speak.

  I rose on trembling legs. “I do know the enemy we face, from firsthand experience. Sethos will not stop until he sees his vision complete. They were willing to kill my mother and father before my eyes in order to make me …” I paused, looking again to Keallach and feeling Ronan’s tension rise. “In order to force me to do what they wanted. They cannot be allowed to continue to rule. We must take back the Pacifican throne for the people of the Way. It was the Maker’s desire to see Keallach and Kapriel on the throne there, not Sethos. But first,” I said, looking to each of the other Ailith, “I think there’s one more outpost that needs to be claimed for the Trading Union. They will help support us and lend us people for the fight to come.”

  Every one of them returned my gaze, with understanding. If we were stronger because of Zanzibar’s support, what would we be if we took Georgii Post?

  Kapriel looked to Keallach in wonder. “She’s right. She’s absolutely right.”

  Kapriel’s expression of brotherly love and admiration as he turned back to me made me smile. But Keallach … his expression took me back to Palace Pacifica, when he was in full pursuit of me. I blushed and glanced at Ronan in confusion.

  Thankfully, the room was a mass of chatter and cheering and debate.

  Except for my husband. Only he looked dark and frustrated in the midst of the swelling joy about us.

  CHAPTER

  31

  RONAN

  Keallach met my gaze as he exited, clearly inviting me into the discussion he knew we had to have. “Wait here for me, Dri,” I said. “I’ll return for you.”

  I didn’t wait for her assent, only followed him out the door and down the hall to a secluded alcove. He turned around, and I studied his face in the dancing light and deep shadows of the torch behind me. “You are angry that I made Dri speak?” he asked.

  “No! Well, yes! More how you were looking at her in there,” I said in a harsh whisper, shaking my head. “What was that about, Keallach?

  He frowned and looked genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “You were looking at her like you did in Wadi Qelt. Like I’m sure you did in Palace Pacifica,” I said, edging closer to him. “Like you wanted her. She felt it too.”

  He lifted his brows in shock and then frowned. “There are things that Dri experienced in Pacifica that only she and I remember, because she and I were the only ones who experienced them.” He cocked his head. “I’m sorry, brother, if I looked upon her with anything but sisterly affection. Memories of those days bring up old feelings for me. And seeing her speak so boldly … Perhaps you were only sensing my old admiration?”

  I clenched my fists. His words and tone were innocent and apologetic, but there was something beneath them. Did he toy with me? “Perhaps,” I said shortly. “But in that place, in those memories, lies a danger. For both of you.”

  He nodded, as if letting my words sink in. I frowned.

  “Dangerous, yes,” he said. Was that a tiny quirk of a smile?

  “There is no need to bait him, Keallach,” Niero said, surprising us both.

  Keallach turned his head sharply, as did I. The man was sitting on the edge of the wall, casually leaning back against the cliff, as if giving no care to the precipitous drop on the other side. But given that he was an angel …

  “This is between us, Niero,” I said.

  “I thought it best if there was a third present,” he said to us. “You two have done remarkably well together. I want to see it continue.”

  “It matters not to me who listens,” Keallach said with a slight shrug. “I have nothing to hide.” He had regained his innocent expression, but I couldn’t help feeling that there was something just below the surface.

  “I think there is something yet that you hide,” I said.

  He didn’t move as I got closer to him with each word. “I think that as you have gradually come into power of a sort again, it brings back feelings and thoughts of Andriana by your side as a mate. But she is my wife, Keallach.”

  “Your handfasted wife,” he said casually, running his fingertips over the stone. “As I understand it,” he said carefully, “you have not yet become … of one flesh. Nor shall you until your second decade.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening to intervene?” I asked, taking fistfuls of his tunic in my hands.

  “Ronan,” Niero said.

  With a sigh, I dropped my hands from Keallach.

  “I am simply clarifying facts,” Keallach said, crossing his arms. “And while you seem to imply that I am overstepping my claim in taking any form of power in leading the Remnants, perhaps you yourself have made undue claims upon Andriana’s future. There is a reason the Community urges us to wait until our second decade to exchange our vows, right? It gives us all time to really weigh our decisions. Consider other … options.”

  Niero was beside us then, sensing my gathering rage, even while Keallach looked as if he’d barely noticed it, going on and on in his irritatingly reasonable tone.

  “In the eyes of the Maker,” Niero said, “Ronan and Andriana are one. Their vows were spoken from the heart and will be consummated upon their second decade, in keeping with the Valley custom.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Keallach
. “Our vows are something that only Dri and I can truly remember, because in that moment, it was as if we were the only two present. Just as we will be present again, five seasons hence.”

  “Clearly, you share an enviable love,” Keallach said, ignoring my jibe. He let out a huff of a laugh and stepped away from me, brushing out his tunic and pulling his robe back over his shoulders. “Come now, brother, let’s get past that, shall we? You won the girl, and I’ll admit it chafes at me once in a while, but I’ll get over it. We have bigger things to worry about.”

  I crossed my arms. “Yes, we do. But I am Andriana’s protector. And if you are thinking about pursuing her again, manipulating her—”

  “Manipulating her?” he cried, offended. Then realization struck him. “You mean as I did in Pacifica, using the low gifts.”

  I drew in a breath and pulled up short. “Yes.”

  “Ronan,” he said, “I was not in my right mind when that happened. I had allowed Sethos …” He looked to the night-covered valley again, as if recalling a troubling memory. “I was far from the path,” he went on, looking to me again, and then to Niero. “But I am no longer. Thanks to the Ailith, I am where I belong, and I will not lead Andriana—or anyone else—anywhere I don’t truly think they should go.”

  I took a breath, relieved that he seemed to be coming back to himself, the Keallach we’d accepted as brother. But still I stared at him, taking his measure, within, thinking over his words. Anywhere I don’t truly think they should go … But what if he thought Andriana should go with him, to Pacifica?

  But surely he was beyond that. Well beyond that.

  “I admit it, brother. I wronged you and Andriana,” he went on. “But I don’t intend to repeat that in the future. I swear it.” He reached out an arm. “Now can we set this behind us, once and for all?”