“I’m sorry,” Havinnia said as she bent to kiss the top of Jordana’s head, breathing in, before stepping back. “An ambassador and junior councilman have been abducted by Free Chanters.”
“Shit.” Jordana let her book close without a bookmark. “Which Ambassador?”
“Rosewall.”
“Kura. And the junior—wait, please tell me it’s not…”
Havinina nodded. “Aldon Ackerman, yes.”
“Go.” Jordana pulled her into a quick hug. “Go. Take care of it. I’ll finish up here and...do...something. Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later. I love you, okay? It will all be okay.”
It will all be okay.
Jordana often used that line and rarely was anything ever okay, but she repeated it regardless. She was always sending Havinnina off with some version of that very sentiment. Everything will be fine. Things will work out. Nothing was fine, but hearing it had become a comforting habit. If ever Havinnia didn’t have a voice at her side reminding her that things would be fine, then she feared the weight of all this would destroy her.
Havinnia left the dining room and headed for her office. The abundance of enchantments over the Court left the halls and passages intolerably cold. On her walks from one problem to another, she often found her thoughts drifting to annoyance that, while she had been born and bred a royal of Vacua, it would have been much easier to lead if she wasn’t constantly freezing. Wearing thick layers helped. As did the overfed hearth that roasted the occupants of her office alive.
She crossed the threshold and let the wash of warm air drape her in calm. It cleared her head as she met her adviser’s bow with a nod. He had sweat beading on his brow and had removed his cloak. The fire crackled and sparked. There were other ways to heat the room: coils enchanted to maintain a preset temperature by heating or cooling accordingly, but those lacked ambiance. She liked the crackle and pop of wood, the flickering glow of the flames. She was the Queen, so if she wanted a hearth built into her suite she would have it.
“How long until she arrives?” Havinnia didn’t sit down, but hovered over her desk. She didn’t have time to sit, she’d be leaving soon.
“Not long. She would have received the news much sooner than yourself, Majesty.”
Havinnia closed her eyes. “If I know Kannan, she will have half the Legion ready to mobilize over this.”
“It...is the appropriate response, Your Majesty.”
Adviser Everard Grant had been with her family since her parents had ruled. Havinnia always thought him a funny man, but that was because she’d mistaken crotchetiness for amusing antics as a child. When he had been adviser to her parents he had very little presence in her life. Havinnia had lived in a blissful shroud during that time. Her older brother Ashton had been heir apparent and her parents had been immortal in her eyes. There had never been a cause to fear the crown now perched on her blonde hair.
She had whisked around Liore to learn of the world. Frivolous travels that taught her so much more than a classroom. She met a librarian in southern Rowm and married her a year later. Ignorant of the troubles plaguing her nation because no one ever bothered to tell her. Though, she supposed, she hadn’t asked either.
Now it was all on her. Her parents and Ashton were mourned and buried. And with their passing, all of Vacua’s problems passed directly to her. She was High Queen Havinnia Oakhaven. Those first few months had been the most difficult, wondering if Jordana would leave her for the quiet peace of her library. That was seven years ago.
“It will be difficult to dissuade Kannan,” Havinnia said, biting at the pad of her thumb.
“There has to be a response. We can’t avoid that regardless. News will reach Rosewall. We’ll look as if we let their envoy to our nation be abducted with no retaliation.”
“I understand that Grant, what I need from you is to advise me on how I can possibly achieve that without sending hundreds of my soldiers into danger over this.”
“Compromise. She will start talking big, you then will counter that the risk is too great to your men and that sending a unit we can spare would be more appropriate for a first move.”
Havinnia rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She will never buy that. That sounds ridiculous even to me.”
“She will question, yes, but you are her Queen. She will counter with a proposal closer to your wishes, one that won’t put soldiers in harm’s way over nothing.”
“Well,” Havinnia said, “It’s not entirely nothing. Aldon Ackerman was taken as well.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. A servant announced that General Kannan had arrived and was waiting for her Majesty to discuss plans. Havinnia dismissed the servant with a message that she was on her way. She waited a full minute after they were alone to start speaking.
“This mess is getting deeper and deeper, Grant.”
“It’s for the best, Your Majesty.”
“I’m sure my parents believed that,” Havinnia said, her eyes distant as she crossed to the door, “Neither of us would be here right now if they didn’t.”
She left before he could offer her any more advice. Watching him bow and ‘your majesty’ her just then would have made her too angry to properly deal with Kannan. Havinnia headed for the War Room, where General Kannan preferred to meet, when a figure rushed into her path.
Legion guards were at Havinnia’s side in seconds, hoisting a struggling mass of copper hair in a pink and black uniform. Roseguard Caprice Arvet looked an entirely different creature as she slackened to the guard’s hold. Her hazel eyes were ablaze. Havinnia ordered the guards to release her and they hesitantly let her go.
Caprice’s narrow shoulders rose and fell with the weight of her breathing. She bowed her head, remembering her place, and spoke through pants, “Your Majesty, forgive me. I had to speak to you. It’s of the utmost importance.”
“I”m very sorry to hear about the Ambassador,” Havinnia said. Caprice’s lips tightened. “But I am just now on my way to discuss—”
“May I sit in? I’m sorry.” Caprice shook her head, “I mean, would you allow me to be there when you discuss your plan? I’d like to be a part of it. Whatever it takes to find the Ambassador.”
“I understand you feel his loss more than others—”
“It is my fault, Your Majesty. It’s my fault and I have to make it right.” Tears clouded the honeyed tones of her eyes. The fight drained from her limbs. Her body sagged and a hollow desperation twisted her pretty features. “Please, Your Majesty.”
Her plea was so quiet. Havinnia’s heart splintered, but there was no comfort she could offer her. Less than that, Havinnia could only make her despair worse. “I can’t permit you to enter, I’m very sorry. This situation is...delicate.”
“I...understand. But,” Caprice looked up, her hand reaching out for Havinnia’s wrist before retracting quickly, “But can you at least suggest that I be included in retrieving the Ambassador?”
“You have diplomatic jurisdiction throughout the whole of Vacua. You don’t need the General’s permission.”
“That’s true, but on my own, I have no resources, no intel, no backup. Heading out alone is my last resort, since it’s strategically the weakest of my options.”
Havinnia sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
After numerous thanks, Caprice settled on a bench and waited. She was too trusting and kind a soul for this.
Inside the War Room, the General stood at the open window. Her arms were held behind her broad back, her silhouette impressive against the backdrop of clear blue sky.
“General. Thank you for coming.” Havinnia motioned for the General to sit, which as expected, was politely declined.
“Your Majesty, I’ve devised several options on how to best approach this attack. I’ve been conducting an investigation into the Free Chanters. The Legion SR units have been invaluable to me in narrowing down the scope for their base of operations—”
&nb
sp; Havinnia’s heart twisted. “You know where they’re located?”
Kannan preened at the surprise in Havinnia’s voice. Her pale lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile, which only made her more terrifying. “I have a city. I’m working on narrowing it down further.”
“Oh. And...why wasn’t I notified of this operation?” Havinnia reached out for the table to steady herself.
“I thought it best to wait until I had concrete results.”
Havinnia’s head swam. A migraine formed in her temple. She stood up straighter and cleared her thoughts. She let no trace of the turmoil inside her slip through the facade of her features.
“Thank you, General, you’ve done well. Forgive me, I was merely overwhelmed by the news. How does this new information help us retrieve the Rosewall Ambassador and Aldon Ackerman?”
“Unfortunately, at best, it gives us a place to start. I haven’t yet had the chance to free up enough men for a proper search of the city. We’re stretched very thin at present.” Kannan’s voice reflected her displeasure, as if she were disappointed in the world for either not supplying her enough soldiers or for creating too many problems for the ones she had. “I will, however, dedicate two full Special Response units to start a full sweep of Meraton. They can comb the entire city in a day, but we won’t rest until the Ambassador is found.”
“You believe they’ve been brought to Meraton?”
General Kannan bristled at the interruption, even from her sovereign, and Havinnia sensed that she was the sole person in Liore who could get away with it. “Yes, Your Majesty. Previously, my suspicion had been with the city of Ceol, in the south. They have a large Chanter population and our LPs stationed there have met resistance correlating to Free Chanter activity, but no other information supported Ceol as their base of operations. Meraton is large, compacted with buildings, and busy. Ideal for a hidden base. We have repeatedly run into complications when trying to conduct proper surveillance of the city. The general populous, the higher crime rates, and the tightly knitted streets present too many obstacles. Now, however, we will make the means to weed them out.”
“General, if I may,” Havinnia recalled the lessons spent balancing books on her head and summoned her regal bearing as she attempted to convince the General of her Royal Legion of a plan that was not likely to succeed. Kannan, of course, bowed her head and waited for Havinnia to speak. She was an excellent General. Capable and trustworthy. Havinnia decided that she would find a way to reward Vika Kannan when this was over. A medal, a plaque with her face—well maybe just her name so it wouldn’t scare passing children—and, when Kannan was ready, a retirement full of luxury and relaxation. “I think we need to tread on the side of caution and stealth in this matter. A swarm of soldiers flooding the streets may hurt our efforts. It would certainly give the Free Chanters time to react before we can even determine their location.”
Kannan swallowed, then spoke with restrained calm, contrasted by her natural booming contralto. “An excellent suggestion, however, I think that speed and efficiency take precedence over caution, given the circumstances, Your Majesty. We may alert them to our presence early, but the intention is that it will not be enough forewarning to buy them any real advantage. The longer we take, with caution and stealth, the higher the risk that they act on whatever they have planned for the Ambassador. If he isn’t already dead.”
“And Aldon.”
“Hm? And who, Your Majesty?”
Havinnia swallowed, her insides squirming in knots so that she regretted what little she managed to eat before her day had once again turned for the worse. “I only meant that the Ambassador is not the only captive. Aldon Ackerman.”
Kannan paused, processing the name. Her expression didn’t change. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply that he was any less of a priority than the Ambassador.”
“Of course.”
“Only that, the Ambassador’s safety and our reaction regarding this matter have a direct impact on our relationship with Rosewall.”
Havinnia’s nose flared. “General, I am more than willing to heed your advice when it comes to my Legion, but in political matters, I would ask you not to presume me ignorant. The nations have never had cause for hostility and this incident will not change that. I will be speaking with Empress Amura later today, informing her of our plans for retrieving her Ambassador. So please, let us decide on a course so that I may leave and attend the hundreds of other tasks required of me.”
Kannan nodded, tight lipped. “Is your majesty still set on stealth for this mission?”
“At present, yes. I think it is the wiser course, with your SR units as a plan B.”
“Very good, Your Majesty,” Kannan said, though clearly she did not find this very good at all. “I will mobilize a….single SR unit to infiltrate and gather precise—”
“Not an SR unit.” Havinnia watched the General’s anger spark, fire igniting in her pale blue eyes, but again, she remained respectfully silent. “I don’t want to risk good men on this. Not yet. Send a CCU.”
“Pardon me?”
Havinnia suspected the question was out of outrage, rather than a request for clarification, but she indulged. “A CCU is more than adequate to the task.” She didn’t say aloud that risking a group of convicts was preferable to risking loyal soldiers, but it was implied.
“Your Majesty, may I offer my input on your plan?” Kannan spoke through her teeth, but with passable civility.
“You may,” Havinnia said, exhausted. It was not even midday and she felt pulled in fifty directions.
“A CCU is not appropriate. A unit of convicts cannot be trusted.”
Havinnia could think of no argument, so she remained silent.
Kannan broke the silence, resigned. “May I make another suggestion, Your Majesty?”
“Go ahead.”
Kannan sucked in a breath, her arms clasped tightly behind her back. Her eyes were oddly averted and less intimidating than usual. “A clerical error was brought to my attention recently concerning one of my better officers being placed in command of a CCU. He’s talented, dependable. I’ve looked into his records and he’s advanced faster than I’ve ever seen, showing nothing but dedication and capability. His father had been a celebrated colonel before his passing. If you are...determined to send a CCU against the Free Chanters, then it is my suggestion that we make use of this error. I would not trust this task to a group of convicts, but I would trust him to lead them.”
“That is an acceptable proposal. You may inform this commander that he is to infiltrate Meraton and to first gather information on the Free Chanter’s location. You can report back to me for further instructions.”
Kannan’s eye twitched. “Yes, Your Majesty. It will be done.”
“Oh, and General Kannan, there is a Roseguard outside that door who believes herself responsible for the Ambassador.”
“I’d imagine so,” Kannan said, though not without sympathy, her tone wasn’t as biting or cruel as it could have been.
“Yes, well, she has requested to be involved in the retrieval of the Ambassador. I don’t suppose it would do this trusted officer much difficulty if she were present for this mission?”
“Is this a request, Your Majesty, or an order?”
Havinnia glanced at the door, determined to allow herself one genuine gesture in this sea of secrets that had become her political life. “It is an order. Inform her on your way out, if you please, she is sitting just outside.”
“Very well, Majesty.”
Havinnia strode from the War Room toward her Adviser’s offices. She stopped in his doorway abruptly and he scurried to his feet to bow.
“Majesty,” Grant said, “How did the meeting fare?”
Her hands shook. All the secrets bottled up in her chest were cracking. It was harder to keep them contained. Yet, she managed to keep her promise to the Roseguard. The thrill of it was empowering. She met her adviser’s eyes. “Empress Jin Amura will be here within th
e hour. Hold everything until then. I don’t want to hear a single piece of news until after that meeting.”
“I...yes, Your Majesty.”
Havinnia left him, opened mouthed and no doubt frantic to reschedule her day accordingly. But she didn’t care. At first, her steps were taking her toward her private chambers, toward bed and a nap by the fire, but she ended up in the library, in search of a bookworm.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AT THIS POINT, BOTTOM OF THE BARREL WOULD BE AN UPGRADE
Dian inched forward. He was surrounded. Hot air hit the back of his neck, puffs of expelled breath from bodies pressed too close. He craned his head in a fruitless effort to alleviate the crawling sensation over his skin. It was his fault he was stuck here. He shouldn’t have gone to a Relay Station so close to the end of a work week.
The line moved. He considered finally heeding his mother’s advice and setting up a private Relay Line in his apartment. The enchantments for the Relay Lines were the same crafted into his work radio, so he was familiar with them. Still, he had never been home much to find one practical. Until moments like this one.
“Next Line’s free!”
Thank ‘Meria. Dian paid the receptionist and gave her his mother’s Line number. Rows and rows of tiny cubicles with flat, hard benches were occupied except one. Dian shuffled his way down and sat.
The receiver was a rectangular box, wood grain running in dark patterns through lighter tones of brown, with a black, disc-shaped piece riveted to the top. Dian drummed his fingers on the table while he waited for the Lines to connect. Somewhere behind him, an employee was linking the enchantments from the station to ones set up in his childhood home. Once established, sound would pass freely between the two points as if he were standing in the living room. He glanced at the clock on the wall, then double-checked the one on his wrist.
Catalyst (The Second Cycle Book 1) Page 13
