by Will Wight
If Calder and the others wanted to enter, they would have to walk through the middle of the enemy.
The tower was guarded by a mix of Luminians and Imperial Guard, and drawing a weapon here would lead to indiscriminate bloodshed, so it wasn’t a trap. Just a symbolic gesture.
Teach motioned the Guards around her forward, to line the way between them and the Guilds around them, but Calder was already striding through. This was his chance to set the pace.
Shera fell into step next to him, and his heartbeat spiked. She still carried one of her large daggers on the right side of her belt.
“When this is over, we need to talk,” she said.
“Yes, I’d say we do. I’d like us to find a way to work together. Ideally without you holding a knife to my back.”
He couldn’t forget his own anger toward the woman. She had killed Urzaia, kidnapped Jerri, tried to kill him, and her hands were wet with the blood of countless others.
But they had been enemies. Today, their conflict should be over. He’d won.
If she could accept that, he could let her go…as long as he could trust that she wouldn’t slit his throat the moment she saw half a chance.
He thought he saw a smile flicker over her face like a cloud, but it was hard to tell with so much of her expression covered. “Would you prefer a knife to your front?”
“It’s better where I can see it.”
“Is it?”
Calder thought about that for a moment as a pair of guards opened the door to the Rose Tower. Talking with Shera, he’d passed between the Independent Guilds without even noticing.
“Maybe not.” Dying painlessly from a threat he never saw coming might be the best way to go. “But if you have to kill me, I want it to be because I deserve it, and not just because you don’t like me.”
Once again, he thought he caught the shadow of a smile. “We might be able to work together after all,” she said.
On the bottom floor of the Rose Tower, a group of assorted Guild members waited beside a series of boxes. The boxes varied wildly in size, from one the size of a fist to another that could fit Calder’s entire body inside. They were all made of blue-white stone and etched with images of knights standing protectively with shields raised.
A Magister attendant stood with the boxes, her staff short and decorated with blue jewels along its entire length and her robe cut to resemble a fashionable dress more than a Magister’s uniform.
“We created these sealing boxes especially for this occasion in conjunction with the Luminian Order.” Her voice was pleasant and professional. “You will place your weapons or Vessels inside a box of your choosing, which will then be labeled and kept in the care of our non-partisan guardians.”
Those “non-partisan guardians” stood behind her. A blindfolded woman wearing a massive sword on her back and the Golden Crown crest of the Champions rested against the wall. That would be a Champion who maintained her services for hire and hadn’t followed Kern to support Calder.
Her neutrality would have been verified by the four Witnesses standing beside her, each pair containing a Silent One and a Chronicler. It was always easy to tell which was which; the Chronicler carried a belt of wax candles at their waist, while the Silent One kept their mouth covered and usually carried weapons strapped all over.
Finally, a ruby-striped dog the size of a tiger prowled before them, eyes locked on the boxes. Stonefangs were sometimes employed as security, as they could guard a single location for weeks without rest. They made formidable fighters as well; Calder had a scar from a wild Stonefang they’d found in an abandoned ruin on the Aion.
“Your weapons will be released when the Head Witnesses certify that the negotiations have concluded. If this is acceptable, the first pair of you may select your boxes now.”
Calder stepped forward, waving behind him. An attendant from the Imperial Palace had brought along his Awakened sword just so he would have something to seal. The sword was sheathed and tucked away inside a wooden box, which a boy in Palace livery carried carefully forward.
He placed the sword inside a stone box as long as both of Calder’s arms, and the attendant looked to the Independent Guilds.
Calder had expected Estyr to step up as his opposite, but Shera surprised him by joining him. She pulled off her belt, including the sheathed dagger, and placed the entire bundle into a box the size of her head.
That would be her Soulbound Vessel, he knew. Bliss had reported that she had sealed away Shera’s weapon during the battle on the Gray Island, but had also warned them that the seal wouldn’t last forever. With the Regents on her side, Shera must have freed her weapon already.
But she showed no reluctance to lock it away now, and the Magister gestured with both her hands, levitating the lids into the air and sliding them in place. The Chroniclers each placed a hand to their candles, no doubt committing to memory which box was which.
Teach and Bareius came next. Teach pulled Tyrfang from her back, sheath and all, and placed it into another long box with a look of great pain.
The alchemist spread his hands. “I apologize, everyone, but I have come unarmed. Search me, if you doubt me.”
They did. Both pairs of Witnesses patted him down, signaling that he was indeed as unarmed as he claimed.
“…I admit, I’m a little wounded by your lack of trust.”
Finally, the two Champions walked up at the same time. Kern settled his leather satchel, containing his weapons and his Vessel, into a large box. He seemed imperceptibly happier once he’d put the bag down, as though he’d released a more-than-physical weight.
Estyr chose the largest box, the size of a coffin, and gestured toward it. Her three skulls stopped orbiting her head, drifting to rest beside one another inside.
Calder and the others had wondered if the Regent would submit to the indignity of having her Vessels taken away. To a Soulbound, having their Vessel locked away was like having a part of their body go numb, and Calder had known some that would rather amputate a finger than lose access to their power like this.
But Estyr still seemed completely at ease, tucking her hands back into her pockets and strolling upstairs.
The room at the top of the Rose Tower had been cleared for the occasion, then arranged in the traditional way: there were three circles painted on the floor on either side of the room, indicating where the participants in this negotiation would stand. No chairs.
It was an ancient arrangement that Calder had never seen himself, only heard about, though he supposed it was appropriate with Estyr Six among them.
The western window was open, but the eastern window was closed against the morning sun. Calder found the lack of breeze stifling, and he felt no shame in immediately shedding his coat. He already had to close his mind against the weight of the Emperor’s crown, so if he had to try and ignore the heat too, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the conversation.
He took the center circle, with Teach and Kern on either side. Estyr stood in the center on the other side, looking somehow incomplete without the skulls whirling around her head, and the hooded Shera stood to her left while bespectacled Bareius was on her right.
Between the two factions were the twin Heads of the Guild of Witnesses: Calazan and Azea Farstrider. He wasn’t sure which was which, but then, he couldn’t tell them apart. They were both tall, willowy young women with pale hair. They both had candles at their waist, and both their mouths were covered.
He had been instructed not to speak to them, but that felt wrong.
“Farstrider sisters,” he said. “On behalf of the Imperialist Guilds, I’d like to thank you for being here.”
They blinked at him in unison.
That was the end of his attempt to make friends.
“All right, let’s save some time,” Estyr said as soon as the door shut behind them. “We’re willing to pretend to follow your Imperial Steward as long as he’s not named Emperor and the regional governors are fully supported. In re
turn, Jorin and Loreli and I will step down from rule. In a couple of years, if you’ve given the governors everything they need and there’s nothing wrong with the sky, we’ll go back to sleep. Deal?”
She didn’t seem bothered by the heat.
Calder could see what the Independent proposal meant. It was a slow death to a unified Empire rather than a quick one.
Teach spoke firmly, no sign left of the awe-struck woman facing a personal hero. “We need you to endorse Calder Marten as Emperor.”
Calder tried to hide his shock.
“We will support the governors,” she continued. “If we fall apart in the end, so be it, but we must first give the unified Empire a chance.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” Estyr said.
Calder had already decided what his position should be in this negotiation: he should be seen pushing for unity at every opportunity. “We also need guarantees that your Guilds will continue to work together with ours. The Consultants and the alchemists especially play a vital support role, without which some of the other Guilds will cease to function.”
He snuck a look at Kern, hoping to see approval, as the Champion’s Guild was one of the most affected by the departure of the alchemists. The armored Champion was sweating lightly, but he thoroughly studied his opponents. It didn’t seem like he was even listening to Calder.
Bareius was, though. The polished alchemist stepped up to the boundaries of his painted circle. “That’s a critical concern, critical, and with it comes the question of hierarchy. Not that I’m a man of pride myself, but the current circumstances suggest that our Guilds may be seen as subordinate to those that pledged their loyalty to you, which would be a truly uncomfortable notion.”
Teach looked like she had wished the alchemist would shut his mouth forever. “We’ve had a number of proposals drafted up. We can’t undo the damage that we’ve done to each other in the news-sheets, but we can agree to make public proclamations emphasizing the efforts your Guilds make toward unification or mutual defense.”
In the corner of the room, Azea and Calazan Farstrider held their hands toward the candles on their belts. Their eyes locked with uncomfortable intensity on whoever was talking.
“We also need the Gray Island back,” Estyr said firmly. “There’s more to it than just the Consultant’s Guild headquarters.”
That was interesting, and it reminded Calder that he hadn’t checked into the Gray Island reclamation effort in enough detail. But there was a more pressing issue that no one had directly addressed yet.
Shera named it before he could.
“The Great Elders are moving,” Shera said from behind her gray half-mask.
Kern nodded. The Champion hadn’t said a word until now, but on this matter, he spoke up. “We’re all locked in the same burning house. It benefits no one to fight while the flames rise.”
Maybe it was the talk of flames, but Calder was still feeling the heat. As he rolled his sleeves up, he spoke. “More than anything else, even if we bicker and squabble over details, we have to make an agreement of honor between those of us in this room: we must join together in mutual defense.”
Shera’s gaze took on a haunted look, and Bareius looked suddenly uncomfortable, but he could see agreement in both of them even without Reading them.
It restored Calder’s faith in the possibilities of this negotiation. They may disagree on the future of the Empire, but they could set their personal visions and profit aside for the sake of mutual survival. United, they could stand strong against the Elders.
“What happened to your arm, Steward?”
Estyr spoke casually, but to Calder, the room suddenly felt ten times hotter.
He had rolled his sleeve up too far. An inch of reddish, burned skin peeked out. Kelarac’s handprint.
The Regent’s attention was focused on him, and strands of her blonde hair drifted upward.
She suspected him. He needed to get out in front of her suspicions immediately, or he wouldn’t live to see noon.
“Ah, this. Yes. I have nothing to hide from you, Regent, and I would love to get your guidance on this…mark…after this meeting is over.”
Leave it alone, he begged Estyr silently. Leave it alone, leave it alone, leave it alone…
“Roll up your sleeve,” the Regent commanded.
Sweat rolled down Calder’s skin. Shera was leaning forward on the balls of her feet, and even Bareius felt somehow more dangerous than he had a moment before. Kern and Teach shifted slightly closer to Calder.
Before Calder spoke, he took great pains to make sure his voice would be steady. “As you suspect, I did receive this from an Elder. But he has no influence over me, I assure…”
The words trailed off as the ends of Estyr’s coat and hair began to blow in a nonexistent breeze. Her Intent radiated out from her, so severe that it drowned out even the Emperor’s crown, and her eyes were like blue suns of judgment.
“Do you know who blinded Kell’arack?” Estyr Six asked him. “Who circled his head in bands of steel and drove spikes through his eyes, nailing him to the floor of the Aion Sea?”
Beneath the open bloodlust of the ancient Soulbound, Calder choked on his own voice.
“That is the mark of Kelarac. He placed it on his favorite slaves.” She had left her circle now, marching forward, and Calder could no longer physically stay where he was. He scrambled back, leaving his own circle, groping at his waist for a weapon he didn’t have.
Estyr spoke with the finality of an executioner. “His soul belongs to Kelarac, and he will not leave this room alive.”
She loomed over him as his back hit the wall. Though Teach and Kern both stood fully in front of him now, he felt naked before her.
“The Head of the Blackwatch has vouched for him,” Kern said. He held both hands out in front of him, and Calder wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a defensive gesture or a placating one.
Teach sounded like she was begging, and Calder noted that her trembling had returned. “We have kept him under observation in the Palace, and he has shown no cooperation with Elders or the Elder powers.”
Estyr stared through them, locked onto Calder with centuries of fury.
“I will Read the truth from him myself.”
She reached out, and Calder was certain he wouldn’t survive her touch.
Baldezar Kern seized her wrist, his arm twice as thick as her own. “Regent, please. Let’s take a moment to…”
He grunted with effort. Then he latched onto her with another hand.
She was pushing downward against him now, and his arms trembled. She made it look effortless even as the Head Champion’s face turned red and slick with sweat.
Metal shrieked as Kern’s armor began to crack. His knees buckled.
Calder’s thoughts were paralyzed by overwhelming Intent, and he was certain that he was about to die.
Teach dove into Estyr in a shoulder-tackle, but Estyr weathered it like a solid oak. She drew back her free hand into a fist, her eyes still on Calder.
“Elderspawn,” she spat.
Then she punched Baldezar Kern straight through the floor.
Chapter Six
present day
Kern was hammered through the floor as though by the fist of a Great Elder, and then everything moved too fast for Calder to see.
Dust exploded up from the new Champion-shaped hole in the floor, and Calder threw up an arm to protect his eyes, but he was only blinded for a second.
In that second, Teach had already taken a beating.
Estyr’s fists were so fast it was like she had twelve arms, and the room rang with the thunder of dented steel as Teach’s armor was caved in. The Guild Head tried to fight back, but Estyr was a whirling shadow, too fast to see until she threw Teach into the ceiling.
Then Kern erupted from the floor below. His face was bloody, but before Calder could see if he was all right, he and Estyr had bounced each other off all the walls. He couldn’t even tell who was winning;
it was so loud that his eyes hurt, and he had already clapped both hands over his ears.
He had to get out.
Teach returned to the fight as Calder stumbled to the door leading to the staircase. He passed the Farstrider sisters, but they didn’t seem bothered by the noise; their eyes jumped around as though they could follow the fight just fine.
He hesitated next to them. So far, everyone who knew about his connection to Kelarac had dealt with the Great Elders themselves. They understood that sometimes, there was no other choice but to make a deal.
But these Witnesses could tell everyone that he was in league with a Great Elder. Without their testimony, the public would hear only that the Regents had attacked the Imperial Steward under a flag of truce.
He abandoned that line of thinking in a second. After the fight was over, he could worry about what the Witnesses would say. For now, he needed to get out of the room.
Estyr roared behind him. “Shera! My Vessels!”
If she got her Vessels, it was all over
But if he could get Teach and Kern their weapons first…
He didn’t look at Shera. If he did, that might be the time it took her to reach him and attack. He knew she was unarmed, and in a fight without weapons he thought he could defend himself against her, but there was no sense taking chances with a trained assassin. Not when there were protectors within arm’s reach.
He dashed through the door, shouting for the Imperial Guard.
A Guard with fox ears was standing on the other side of the door, her eyes wide and ears twitching.
Calder grabbed her by the shoulder and gestured for her to move down the stairs. The stairs were packed with Guards and the occasional Luminian knight, and he addressed them all.
“Peace is done,” he said. “It’s time to fight.”
He wasn’t intentionally concentrating on the crown he wore. When he’d used it before, he had done his best to concentrate and make sure that the Emperor’s Intent reinforced his own, but that wasn’t always how investment worked.
