I settled down and blinked blearily. Sleep already had a hold on me. But I couldn’t rest yet. “Xaron.”
He knelt next to me. “Yes?”
“Talan is in danger. He…” I closed my eyes, fighting off a wave of sleepiness. “He’s going after Kalindi. Fool man. He’s going to try and kill him.”
“Bold,” Xaron breathed. “But after what they did to you, I almost want to follow him.”
“You can’t.” I took his hand in mine, my sense of touch already half-numbed. “You have to stay and watch over me.”
He clasped my hand with both of his. “Gladly.”
Oblivion edged in, but once again I fought it off. “Xaron?”
“Yes?”
“Are you in love with Isidora?”
His grip tightened on my hand, then loosened as he let out a laugh. “Maybe,” he admitted, almost sounding surprised.
I gave a soft snort. “Only you wouldn’t know.”
“Oh? Then you know if you love Talan Wraithsbane, do you?”
A smile found its way onto my face. “Perhaps.”
“You’re impossible. Go to sleep.”
Releasing my resistance, I did.
I didn’t fully wake until the next morning, though I rose several times throughout the evening and night to take care of necessities. Xaron stayed by me the entire time. Once when I awoke, he was humming to himself and channeling a line of flames into a circle. Another, he was pacing the room.
“You can go,” I’d told him groggily.
He’d stared disdainfully at me. “Go to sleep.”
Once more, I had.
When I awoke the final time, birds called outside. The sky was overcast, but bright enough to daze me for a moment. Xaron sat slumped in a chair he’d dragged in from downstairs, his chin to his chest. I winced at the crick in his neck he’d no doubt wake up with.
For a moment, I was content to lay back. Pain needled my sides and head, though it was still dulled by the poppy tincture. I feared it would return when I rose. But suddenly, I remembered what today portended, and couldn’t stop from sitting up with a groan.
Xaron awoke at the sound, sitting bolt upright and staring around in alarm. “What’s going on?”
“The election. When is it?”
He blinked at me. “Election?”
“For the Low Consul, cotton-head.”
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Ah. Right. I think it’s at the fourth turn of the morning.”
“Fourth?” I stared out the window. “It has to be nearing the third, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “Either way, I guarantee Nomusa has tied herself in a knot by now. You didn’t wake during her visit yesterday. She’s worse off than you in some ways.”
“She stopped by?” Sympathy and guilt rose in me at the thought of my friend. I’d seen little of Nomusa of late, and done nothing to ease the burdens she carried for our Order.
“Briefly. She rested for a few turns, then rose to work again, writing finch messages to send come morning. I’ve never seen her work so hard, Aire. She’s almost a different person.”
“No, not different. Just the person she’s always meant to have been.” I glanced at him. “Before your corrupting influence.”
He cocked a smile. “If anything, she corrupted me.”
I swung my legs off the bed. I’d slept in my clothes, so only the sandals remained to don. But I stared at them balefully across the room. Bending over to lash them to my feet didn’t promise to be a pleasant task with my ribs.
Xaron saw my look and rose. “I can get them.”
“I can put on my own sandals,” I protested.
“But not helping would be like neglecting to flip over an upturned turtle. Allow me.”
When we’d finished readying ourselves, we walked across the grounds to the Conclave. The hubbub could be heard from outside the great cracked doors. I clung to Xaron’s arm as we entered and stared around us.
Once again, around half of the Servants were in attendance, along with their staffs of clerks. With honors moving between them and providing refreshments, it almost seemed the Conclave of old. I tried to find heart in it. But I knew demotism wouldn’t be enough to save us from Famine, or Avvad. I doubted it could even save us from ourselves.
We spotted Nomusa, but as she appeared in the midst of an animated argument, we didn’t venture close. The thin man near her, however, looked up and saw us, then began to ascend the curved stairs around the outside of the Conclave chamber toward us.
“I’m glad to see you up, First Verifier,” Jaxas said as he neared. “I’d feared the worst when I heard what happened.” He was dressed in plain robes today, and his eyes seemed on the verge of disappearing within the dark circles around them.
I let go of Xaron’s arm to stand on my own, even though it taxed my paltry strength. “I couldn’t stay in bed for this. How are we doing?”
“I’m not allowed to take sides,” the Archon reminded me with a wry smile. “But if I were, I’d be happier to be an Equalist. The contest is close, but your fellow First Verifier seems to have swayed the critical vote. If only the election could occur now.”
I studied him and his bowed weariness. “And you. Are you content to return to being a moderator rather than a voice on the Council?”
All traces of humor disappeared from his expression. “Do I have a choice?”
I shrugged. “You always have a choice.”
He studied me for a long moment. “Have you had any word of the Despoina?”
I blinked, taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation. “I’ve been resting in the Aviary. I’m not liable to hear many whispers when I’m not conscious.”
He bowed his head and stepped closer. “It’s a vain hope. Still, I must ask. Airene, if you know anything of her, please, tell me. I’ve not had word of her since last night.”
“Last night?” I dredged up a vague memory. “Wasn't she with Komo last night?”
He nodded gravely. “They met in the Laurel Groves. I attended as well.”
“Very romantic,” I observed wryly.
“Leia did not appear pleased either. She stared away from the Heir much of the time, often ignoring his words to make some idle comment of her own.” He shook his head. “I don’t know my cousin anymore, Airene. I fear we’re losing her to whatever inner daemons plague her.”
He spoke with the familiarity we'd gained before the trial. That familiarity, and the things I knew that he didn’t, emboldened me to speak.
“I don't think we'll gain her back, Jaxas. I think we have to move forward anyway, and act in spite of it.”
“Act in spite of it,” he murmured. “What do you mean?”
I considered my next words. “Komo's advisor gave me a book two nights ago. I stayed up all that night to read it.”
The Archon studied me silently, waiting.
“It was called Tales of the Desolate. I’d read another version of it, but it had been censored. It didn’t have the words from the mouth of Yama in it.”
Xaron shifted next to me, but it was Jaxas who muttered softly, “Vusu's words. From when he first began serving Famine.”
“Exactly. And what it says… I don't know how he's lasted this long. Famine eats at his mind, Jaxas. Between that and the wound I dealt him, he won't have the strength to hold on much longer.”
“I’m afraid I don't understand. Why would we want him to?”
“Because even though he's using Famine for his own gains, Vusu is also holding him back from the world. If he stops, then we will have the daemon god himself to contend with, unbridled.”
The Archon rubbed at his temples. When he pulled his hands away, he looked older and more tired than I’d yet seen him. “First we wish to defeat him, now we wish to keep him alive. What’s the right course, Airene? What can we do against this threat?”
“What we have been doing. Preparing. Learning what we can. Struggling on.”
He shook his head. “Not
enough. How could it ever be enough?”
“It has to be.” Another thought occurred to me. “Jaxas, if the ruling Wreath somehow becomes unfit for service to the demotism, what happens? Does another take over?”
He didn’t seem surprised by the question. “They serve until death, Airene. Taking the Evergreen Wreath before then is insurrection.”
The gargantuan bell tolled from the dais. Even broken, the deep sound resonated throughout the chamber. Jaxas looked toward it. “The fourth turn of the morning,” he murmured. “It’s time.” He glanced back at me, then walked away without another word.
“Cheery conversation,” Xaron observed.
“You’d think you’d be more worried about the end of Oedija.”
“What’s the use?” The smile slipped from his face as we watched Jaxas and the Low Consuls enter the small, cave-like room behind the dais. “Those gray-heads decide our fates, don’t they?”
The eleven Servants voting for the new Low Consul had lined up at the door, and the first of them followed through.
“Only if we let them,” I said. “Come with me. I need to talk to someone else.”
Komo and Nkosi stood in the far corner of the chamber, silently observing the proceedings. Except for Nomusa, they were the only Bali people there, and their dark olive skin and ornamentations made them stand out like peacocks among pigeons.
Xaron and I approached and bowed. “Heir Komo. Advisor Nkosi.”
“First Verifier Airene.” Komo smiled genuinely, though it remained small. The worried creases between his brow didn’t smooth. “Or may I abandon your title?”
I returned the smile. “Call me what you like.”
“‘Little finch’ is what she prefers,” Xaron said confidentially.
Komo laughed softly as I arched an eyebrow at my friend.
“I think I’ll stick with Airene,” the Heir said. “What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to speak with you about your meeting with the Despoina last night.”
His expression fell. “Ah. Yes. What do you wish to know?”
From his reaction, it seemed Jaxas had been accurate in his account. “Did it go well?” I asked lightly.
“No,” Nkosi broke in. “It did not. As you well know, First Verifier.”
“Nkosi,” Komo rebuked him. “But he does have a point. It is no more than we expected after our earlier discussions.”
I felt Xaron looking at me questioningly, but I ignored him, only half-feigning a wince from a stab of pain in my side. “Did she seem distracted by anything in particular?”
“Not by any one thing, but by everything. The only time she carried a real conversation was with one of my guards.”
My stomach sank. “Do you mind if I ask which one?”
Nkosi looked at me sharply, but Komo just cocked his head. “His name is Bhaka. I believe he stood guard when you visited the other night. Why do you ask?”
“First Verifier,” Nkosi said, “if you know something, it would be better to tell us now.”
I’d been too direct. But I knew I couldn’t reveal what I suspected yet, even if it damaged the trust we’d built. “I don’t know anything. But if I find something out, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
The advisor eyed me suspiciously, but Komo, the good-hearted lad that he was, just nodded. “I trust you will,” he said.
The dais bell tolled again. As the gathered crowd quieted, I glanced down at the platform and saw Jaxas leading the Low Consuls up its crumbling steps. My stomach lurched. I found Nomusa standing behind the platform, her expression stony. I felt her nervousness as my own. Behind the Low Consuls followed two unfamiliar Servants. When they moved to stand slightly before the Council, I assumed they were the candidates for the office.
As Jaxas stepped forth, the bow in his shoulders even more pronounced than before, my stomach sank. I already knew what was coming.
“In a vote of six to five, the eleventh seat of the Demos Council has finally been filled,” he spoke, only audible from the echo of the chamber. “Rusen of Bazaar, if you will speak the oaths and accept the responsibility, we welcome you as a Low Consul of Oedija.”
Most of the gathered people clapped loudly, while the rest remained silent. The man who stepped forward nodded solemnly. He was tall, thin, and obviously Avvadin from the cloth wound around his head.
I stared, scarcely able to believe it. We’d lost. The Preservists controlled the Demos Council.
My gaze wandered to Nomusa and found her leaning against the wall, looking dazed. It pained me more than the results. I knew how she’d struggled to win this, and still she’d failed.
As Jaxas finished taking Rusen’s oaths of fealty to Oedija, Orhan stepped forward from the others. “As the Council is finally complete, we have many things to decide in these tumultuous times. You may expect our pronouncements soon.”
Dread filled me at the words. What new obstacles would Orhan put before us? Suddenly, I felt the same weight Jaxas had shown earlier pressing down on me. At every turn, a new challenge presented itself. When would they stop? When could Oedija face its enemies with its full strength and not rip itself apart?
Xaron gripped my arm. “Airene. The honor, Kelena. She looks frenzied.”
All concern for the election swept from my mind as I followed Xaron’s gaze. Kelena hurried toward us, much of the composure she typically bore cast away. Fear made me almost dizzy. I knew what news she must bring, given the task I’d set before her.
I almost turned away from her, not wishing to hear the words, but her address arrested me. “First Verifier,” she said, panting slightly as she stopped before us. “There’s been an attack. Seekers at the Acadium, in the Archmaster’s tower.”
“The Manifest attacked Kyros?” I asked blankly. Despite the direness of the news, I thought only of one thing: this wasn’t about Talan; he wasn’t dead, not yet. Relief washed through me.
Kelena’s eyes were wide and panicked. “I didn’t know this was coming. I didn’t notice any increase in activity. Perhaps they know not to trust the honors.”
“If Ariston leads the Manifest, he would know.” I thought quickly. “We’ll look into it. But did you hear anything of Talan?”
“No, not yet.” Kelena’s expression made it evident which she thought was the more important of the tasks. I had to bite my tongue as my temper flared up. Even knowing that she was probably right, it didn’t change the fact that I wished I could hunt him down myself.
“We’d better go,” Xaron said. “I’ll fetch Nomusa.”
I worried still for Talan, but I had no choice but to nod. There was nothing more I could do for him. Xaron slipped through the crowd toward our Nomusa.
“Kelena, come with me,” I said. “I have to tell someone else the news before we go to the Acadium.”
We found my way through the crowd up to the dais. The Low Consuls had begun to file back into the chamber, and we had to hurry the last steps to catch Jaxas before he entered after them. I hissed at the pain in my ribs as we jostled people out of the way, but didn’t slow as we neared.
“Archon Jaxas!” I called breathlessly, hoping my words weren’t lost in the hubbub of the Servants. The noise had increased following Orhan’s announcement. “Wait a moment!”
Jaxas slowly turned back. His eyes were flat and cold. “Yes, First Verifier?”
I leaned forward, hoping others wouldn’t overhear. There was no time for a more private place. “There’s been an attack at the Acadium. If Kelena is correct, Kyros’ tower has been assaulted by Seeker wardens. I’m going over there to see into it now.”
He didn’t show any surprise or horror, but considered me with the same flat stare. “They’ve attacked again,” he repeated. “And we didn’t anticipate it.”
I winced. “Yes. But we are still—”
“I’m not chastising you. I’m seeing a piece to a puzzle I’ve long stared at, but never known how to place. It is coming together now, whether I would will it or not.” H
e stared at me with sudden sharpness. “We must do what we must. Is that not what you said to me, Airene?”
“Yes, it is,” I said uneasily.
He nodded as if to himself. “Go. Learn what you can. Anticipate what must be done next. I’ll meet you at my solar when the Council is finished here.” He turned to Kelena. “Kelena, can you send an honor to Tribune Timon? Tell him to bring his charges here to see me.”
As Kelena nodded, I looked between them with confusion. Jaxas seemed familiar with Kelena’s network. Had it just been what we’d told him when we’d tried to make her a Verifier? Had Nomusa informed him of Kelena’s informal status as part of the Order?
Jaxas looked back to me. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, then abruptly turned away.
“Jaxas, wait.”
The Archon paused, then turned back expectantly. “Quickly, now.”
The words spilled forth. “I think I know where the Despoina is. Or rather, whom she’s with.” I nervously scanned the crowd until I found Komo and Nkosi standing out of earshot. “I fear one of Komo’s guards has seduced her. There have been signs of it. I thought you should know in case this danger spreads wider than we know and she needs protection.”
Jaxas stared at me for a long moment in the midst of the hubbub. In that motionless gaze, I saw anger flaring to life. The smile that pulled at his lips was more fearsome than a grimace. “Protection? But she’s already accompanied by a guard.”
Without another word, he turned into the Council room.
I stared after him. But as Xaron and Nomusa approached, I turned from the closing door and put it from mind. Time enough to think of it later.
Seeing the defeat in Nomusa’s posture, I winced. “Are you alright?”
She stared woodenly at me. “If there’s been an attack at the Acadium, we’d best go look into it. After all, we’re not much use here, are we?”
Not knowing what else to do, I nodded, then led the way out of the Conclave, one limping step at a time.
20
Realm of Ashes Page 31
