“Just because you come back when you die doesn’t mean your life has no meaning,” Elaine said.
“Does it? I mean, if things don’t work out, you just forget it all and try again.”
Jole got philosophical when she got depressed. “Maybe, but her life still means something. She means something to her parents and her brothers and sisters.”
“That must be nice.”
Where was this coming from? “You mean something to us,” Elaine said. “To me and Paric and Gird and all the people you lead.”
To her surprise, pain twisted Jole’s face. “I don’t deserve that.”
“Yes, you do.” Elaine pursed her lips. “When was the last time you ate?”
Jole have her a sidelong look, then bit her cheek. “Um… I think I ate yesterday.”
Elaine shook her head and pushed a roll into Jole’s hand. “Eat this.” She stood. “Stay there. I’m coming back.” Now was not the time for Jole to fall apart on them.
75
The Angler
The Angler paused, crouched in the dark alley, watching the girl go by in the rainy night. Had she seen the acorns? He thought she had. But perhaps not the red stones. He considered this. Then he scratched a bit of moss off the brick at his side and licked his finger. A deer. That was what he needed. Of course.
76
Coralie
The palace was much as she’d remembered it, although lonelier and more echoing. For the first few weeks, hundreds of people, it seemed, came to give her reports. The only thing that had changed was the number of spy agencies. As far as Coralie could tell, there were five different groups, only some of which knew about each other. At any moment, she expected to be found out, but it kept going smoothly.
Until one day she was given a letter. It was not addressed or signed. It was written in light blue ink on a ratty piece of parchment. The symbol of a bird adorned the lower right-hand corner, and a series of numbers and letters ran across the top. The message was a series of nonsense words, some kind of code.
Coralie puzzled over it alone in her rooms, for several evenings, but could make nothing of it. She tried every code she and Lilianna had ever used or talked about, and every other decoding she could think of. Asking anyone for help was out of the question. Eventually she kept the letter under her mattress, continued to puzzle over it, and hoped it wasn’t anything too important. Perhaps a message from a spy or a clan leader. She could always pretend to have lost it, if she was ever asked about it.
77
Elaine
As the fourth day of Giltryx approached, time seemed to speed up. They had a week to go, then three days, then one, and then Elaine found herself standing in the hall of Jole’s hideout, strapping a sword to her belt and pulling on her dark woolen cloak.
The others were loud, joking and shoving. The younger ones were still treating this like a game, even though she’d talked to them all individually, impressing upon them the seriousness of what they had planned, that in order for this to work, they had to make this as bloodless and civil as possible.
Then they were all pouring out the door into the rainy night. Paric and Gird went one way, taking the bulk of their fighters, and she and Jole went the other. Jole was tense and silent as they approached the Mandrevecchian’s palace. She didn’t even seem to be watching for guards.
Elaine followed, her eyes sharp, saying nothing.
They came to a small copse of trees near the back wall, and Jole slipped between them. Elaine followed, and there, just as Jole had said it would be, was a small, nondescript door. Jole inserted a key and opened it.
“Why do they even have a door like this?” Elaine had asked when Jole had told her she’d stolen the key.
“Escape routes. The Mandrevecchian wants as many secret ways out of the palace as possible. There’s tunnels and secret doors everywhere.”
They passed through the tunnel to where, Jole said, there would normally be a trio of soldiers stationed. But Paric had done his work, and the marbled hallway on the other end was empty. Jole turned right and led her quickly down the hall, her boots clicking on the floor, echoing off the high, vaulted ceiling that was papered in gold leaf.
“Jole,” Elaine hissed as they passed through an intersection she’d studied a thousand times on the map. “Jole, it’s this way, right?”
Jole shook herself, stared down the hallway, and nodded. “Right.”
“Are you OK?” Elaine asked.
“Fine.” Jole strode off again, through the empty halls. Somewhere in this palace, Gird would be locking anyone who was asleep into their rooms. All the visiting nobles and dignitaries, all the spymasters, assistants, and merchants; all the cooks and servants. They came around a corner and saw two bodies lying on the floor. Elaine bent down, pressed her fingers to their necks. Pulses. She saw the darts, one was still embedded in the man’s shoulder, the other had fallen to the floor. Paric was still doing his work, too, it seemed. They would be out for at least a day.
Elaine, for the hundredth time that night, ran through her prayers, this time adding heartfelt gratitude that things were going smoothly so far. Jole, though, was standing, transfixed, staring at the bodies. Her head tilted to the side and she gave Elaine a long, thoughtful look.
“What?” Elaine took a step towards her. “What’s wrong?”
Jole shook herself. “Nothing. I just… I… are you sure the poison will last long enough?”
Elaine rolled her eyes. “We’ve had this conversation before. We’ve tested it plenty, right?”
“Right, right…” Jole glanced over her shoulder.
“Come on,” Elaine said. “We don’t have time for this. It should be just around the next corner.” She and Jole were going for the academics. The policy makers. The speech writers. These people, the advisors to the Mandrevecchian, lived in their own separate wing of the palace. They would be locked in and it would be Elaine’s job to convince them to join them. Then, when every resource was locked down, Jole would go for the Mandrevecchian himself.
Jole nodded and stood without looking at her. They set off again, but suddenly Jole stopped. There in the hallway in front of them was a deer. It looked just as confused as they were. It held itself motionless, only its nose twitching slightly, then bounded away.
Jole turned to Elaine. “Elaine, stop.”
Elaine raised her eyebrows. “What?”
Jole was staring at the floor. She finally looked up, meeting Elaine’s eyes, anger and guilt burning in her gaze. “Run. Get out of here.”
“Jole, what are you talking about?”
Jole crossed her arms, gripping her elbows. “I’m not who you think I am. I work for the Mandrevecchian.”
Elaine’s jaw dropped. “What? But… Then why are you…”
Jole’s hands dropped to her side. “The Mandrevecchian knows we’re coming. I warned him.” She pointed to the door, behind which the advisors should be sleeping. “Behind that door will be a contingent of soldiers ready to execute you. Paric and Gird may already be dead.” She grabbed Elaine’s elbow, started pulling her down the hall, away from the door, but Elaine jerked out of her grasp.
“What?” No. It couldn’t be. “Why are you telling me this?”
Jole choked, and tears welled up in her milky eyes. “Because you don’t deserve this.” She clenched a fist and banged it against the wall. “You trust me. And… people have trusted me before, and I’ve let them die. Hundreds and hundreds of them.” The self-contempt was thick in her voice. “But I can’t betray you.” She cursed again. “Any more than I already have. Run.”
Once again, Elaine felt everything she thought she knew being pulled out from under her. “So, this was all a…a lie?”
“Yes. I lead fake revolutions. I collect all the people who would rise up against the Mandrevecchian and I organize them, and I throw them against him, and I let him know exactly when and where it’s coming. And I’ve been doing this for hundreds of years.”
�
��That’s why you wanted to know about my father? But you’re…” looking at Jole’s strange eyes she suddenly realized. “That’s not your real eye color, is it?”
“No. When I was younger, five or six, I injected them with a chalky dye to change their color.”
Elaine cringed at the thought, trying to wrap her mind around what Jole was telling her. “But all those things you said about wanting things to change. You meant those; I know you did.”
Jole swallowed hard. “Yes. I meant those. But the Mandrevecchian is too powerful.”
“And hating reincarnates?”
“Yes. I hate reincarnates. We’re cowards. We’ll do anything to keep our immortality.”
“No.” Elaine shook her head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re not a coward. Maybe you have been, in the past, but I can see you want to change. I can see you want this revolution. That’s why you’ve told me to run.”
“No. I just like you. You’re too good a person. I wish the world was the way you think it is.”
“You can tell yourself that, but I know the truth. You want this. You can see that this time might actually succeed. It’s not pity that’s stopped you, it’s hope.”
“I just betrayed you,” Jole said. “I just told you I’ve sent you and all our friends to your deaths. I am a bad person; can’t you see that?”
Elaine shook her head again. “You’re just a person in a bad situation.”
Jole stopped at that, then barked out a bitter laugh.
“Come on,” Elaine said. “Maybe the rest of this revolution will fail, but we can still find the Mandrevecchian. I’m guessing you know where he is?”
Jole nodded. “I can guess.”
“Then let’s finish this.”
“But—”
“He won’t be expecting us there, right?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go.”
Jole wiped her palms on her thighs.
“Come on,” Elaine said. “We can do this.”
“I—” Jole took a step back. “I don’t know if I want to.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Jole bit her lip. “The Mandrevecchian… is my mother.”
Elaine gaped. “She’s used you, her own daughter, to keep her power?”
“She trusts me.” Jole looked at the floor. “That’s a lie. She doesn’t trust me. She knows I’m afraid of her.”
“Does she know how you feel about leading these revolutions? How much you hate it?”
“I don’t know.”
Elaine thought of her father, what it would have been like if he’d used her for his own ends as Jole’s mother had used her. “No wonder you’re bitter,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry, Jole.”
“I’ve had a choice, too, all these years,” Jole said. “All I had to do was die and I’d be free. I could have let go at any time. But that would have meant giving up immortality.” She clenched her jaw and shook her head. “I’m afraid of death, afraid of forgetting. Which is stupid, because who would want to remember this?”
“Maybe you had other reasons for not wanting to let go.”
“Like what?” Jole ducked her head and looked away.
“Like needing to finish what you’ve started so many times.”
Jole’s expression hardened.
“Maybe you’re not afraid of death. Maybe you’re afraid of failing.”
Jole’s expression changed, her brow smoothing. She backed a step away from Elaine and looked up at the ceiling. “You know what, maybe you’re right.” She swallowed grimly. “Let’s go.”
They ran through the echoing halls, past fountains and indoor gardens, and up wide, sweeping staircases until at last they stood outside an ornate mahogany door. Jole glanced at Elaine.
“You sure you trust me?”
“Yep.”
Jole pushed the door open.
There, sitting on a cushion by the fire, a book open on his lap, was a little boy, around four years old. He snapped the book shut when he saw them and jumped up, his hand going to the sword at his side, his gaze moving to the side doors. Then his eyes widened.
“Elaine?”
Jole shut the door behind them with a soft click. She and Elaine drew their swords, advancing on the boy. Elaine tried to remind herself that this boy was really a despotic ruler, over nine hundred years old, who was responsible for the deaths of thousands.
The boy dropped the book and lifted his hands, palms facing them.
“Elaine, what are you doing here?” he asked.
Elaine tightened her grip on her sword. “How do you know who I am?”
The boy glanced at Jole. “Who is this?”
Jole was looking back and forth between Elaine and the boy. “How does he know you? Wait.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know who I am?”
The boy ignored her question.
Jole gasped and stepped back. “Elaine, this isn’t the Mandrevecchian.”
Fear flitted across the boy’s face.
“Who are you?” Jole demanded. “How did you trick the monks?”
“Elaine,” the boy said, ignoring Jole. “Are you all right? How did you know I was here? Who else knows?”
Elaine lowered her sword point. “Who are you?”
“You don’t know? Then what—gods, you’re here to kill the Mandrevecchian?”
“We were,” Jole said. “But it looks like you beat us to it.”
“Elaine, can we trust her?” the boy asked.
“Who are you?” Elaine asked, her voice hollow. “But, yes, I trust her.”
The boy’s eyes were pleading. “Please forgive me. It’s me. Your father.”
Elaine gripped a nearby chair to keep from falling over.
“Cormac?” Jole said, squinting at him. “I knew you were alive.”
Elaine recovered herself. “How long…” She shook her head, closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. “You planned this? All of it? The execution?”
“Yes. I asked Gilmurry to help you, after I was gone. Did that… I…I heard you lost your clan status, I expected that but I… was everything all right?”
“All right? After seeing you burned at the stake?”
He swallowed. “I’m sorry, Elaine. I know that must have been terrible.”
“Terrible? Wh—why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m so sorry. I wanted to, believe me I wanted to. I couldn’t. It was too important. If even one person found out…” He gestured helplessly. “And…as much as I love you… you are not a good liar.”
Rage boiled up in Elaine’s chest. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, to keep herself from saying something she didn’t mean. Or something she did mean.
“You let her think you were dead?” Jole asked, incredulous. “Do you also know that after the clan kicked her out no one talked to her or acknowledged her existence? Gilmurry gave her some money and sent her on her way. She’s was in prison for years.”
“Gods, I’m so sorry, Elaine. I had to, though. I’ve been planning this since before you were born. I never meant to have a child—”
Elaine’s throat burned. She gasped back the angry tears that were starting in her eyes. She closed her eyes and took three long, deep breaths. Onera, what do I do? She waited, breathing, as her heart calmed.
“What are you planning to do here?” she asked finally.
Her father looked as if he wanted to say more, but he answered her question. “I will fix Mimros. I will make it be the way it should have been. Free schooling, assistance for the poor. No more clanless.”
“But the same as it was, just with you at the head instead of her?” Jole asked bluntly.
The boy straightened. “No, not the same. Better. You’ll see. Tomorrow, at the Krull. Come and see my announcements.”
“And reincarnation will continue on the same as it has been?” Jole asked flatly.
“Yes.”
Her father turned to Elaine. “Elaine, I’m so sorry. Please for
give me.”
She took another shaky breath. “I understand why you did what you did. We’ve been working towards the same goal this whole time.” She paused. “I just didn’t realize you were alive. I could have helped you. I—” She looked helplessly at the ceiling. “I came in here thinking I would avenge your death. In some stupid way.” She laughed: a high, shrill sound. “Turns out, if I kill you I’m just committing the thing I am trying to get revenge for!” Jole looked at her and Elaine tried to gulp down the strange, strangled laughter.
“I’m so sorry. I—I wish I could have told you.”
She got a hold of herself and stared at him, looking into his large child eyes with their black irises.
“That stuff in your office, was it iris sap?”
“You found that? Yes. I planted it as evidence.”
“I got rid of it.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.”
“Clearly it wasn’t helpful. I’ve been working against you this whole time without even realizing it. Even though we have the same goal.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But I understand. This is more important than me.”
Her father didn’t disagree. Even though she knew it was true, she still wanted him to correct her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Whatever you need now, you can have.”
“That’s how you’re going to use your power?”
“Not the main way. But it can be one of the ways. You can’t help me publicly, it would be too suspicious, but privately…”
Elaine sheathed her sword. “We have to go.”
Jole looked at her. “But…”
“I’m not killing my father,” Elaine said. “The person we thought we were fighting is gone.”
“But… we already have control of everything else. He didn’t get my message, so Gird and Paric must have done their jobs.”
“None of it works if the Mandrevecchian is still alive. And I’m not killing my father.”
Death of the Immortal King Page 38
