When I opened them again, pain greeted me. My ribs seemed truly broken this time, fire radiating from them. My neck had joined the rest of my body in stiff discomfort. Someone had draped a heavy blanket over me, and propped up my feet with a stool. I groaned as I sat up and gingerly stretched my sore limbs.
“You’re awake.”
I tweaked my ribs as I startled and looked around. Jaxas stood before the glass balcony doors, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced at me, then looked back out over the city. His posture was erect, his chin held high.
I tried to sit up straighter with little success. “Where are the others?”
“They’ll return soon.”
There seemed more unsaid in his words. I waited.
He glanced over after several long moments. “Do you believe in fate, Airene?”
I blinked, my sleep-fogged mind trying to follow. “I believe we forge our own fates. I believe what happens to us is the result of cause and effect. It’s not written in stone, nor threaded by divine hands.”
Even as I spoke, I thought of Clepsammia, and wondered if I still believed that.
“Perhaps it is both,” Jaxas said. “For every action and every event seems to have been drawing me in one direction. I’ve seen this juncture arriving for a time, yet always I thought, there is time, there is still time. But the sieve has narrowed. There is no other choice now but the one before me. One choice that will change the course of my life, of everyone in Oedija.”
“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.
He turned and smiled, skin tight against his skull. “I hope I already have. But enough philosophy. The fully formed Demos Council have met, as you know. They have issued a number of decrees. The first was the dissolution of the Order of Verifiers. On account of insubordination and ineffectiveness of its Finches.”
I stared at him, my mind turning in slow circles. “I’m no longer First Verifier,” I said slowly. “Or even a common Verifier.”
“No longer.”
It didn’t matter. With enemies closing in on all sides, the title didn’t matter. But though I told myself that again and again, it still hurt. I’d striven my whole life to become a true Verifier. I couldn’t cut away that childhood dream with logic. I could only imagine how Nomusa must be feeling.
“There’s more,” Jaxas continued. “The Low Consuls also decided that, with enemies besetting us from both within and without, they require every resource and shred of authority. Thus, the power of the Laurel Palace has been curbed, its resources staunched. We Wreaths will lose all staff but the minimum to support our family and lands, and the guard will be stripped as well. All of our funds in the banks will be confiscated. Only the small coffers kept within the Laurel Palace remain to us. And as the Archon, I no longer possess any right to voice my opinion, but am relegated purely to a role of moderation.”
I stared at him. I had at least known the disbandment of the Order was possible. But this went far beyond that. “Orhan is boxing us in. He’s taking away any tool we have for resistance.” I slumped in the cushioned chair. “You have no soldiers or resources. I have no access or authority. What are we going to do, Jaxas? How can we fight anyone like this? The Avvadin Imperium? Vusu? Famine?”
The Archon was wreathed in the soft evening light that glowed from his balcony doors. “We make the one choice we can,” he said quietly. “We act as you have advised me. We do everything in our power, no matter what others might think of us. No matter the consequences we might suffer.”
Cold fingers crawled up my spine. “What do you mean?”
He didn’t answer, but shifted his gaze back over the city. “Hilarion Xaron has gone to fetch the Watchers. First Verifier Nomusa inquires into the glassblower Maesos, to see if he possesses more pyrkin bolts such as we used at Leia’s trial. Verifier Kelena goes to Heir Komo to see if he will lend his strength to ours.” He glanced at me. “Shall we join their gathering at the Laurel Groves?”
My unease grew greater still. “Why are they gathering?”
“We cannot allow Vusu to command the battle anymore. We cannot wait for the Council to take action. Avvad marches north within the span, and we must be ready when they arrive. The Manifest must no longer plague us when they begin the siege.” He stared into my eyes, seeming to search for something behind them. “We must strike now, before the Seekers can take the next step in their plans. We must cut the head from the snake and hope it kills the body.”
His intentions hit me, sudden as a bird crashing into a window. “You mean to kill Vusu.”
Jaxas nodded slowly. “Kelena’s honors report his continued weakness since the trial. If he is killed, the Manifest will lose its Visage. Perhaps it will lose its will as well. But more than that, we cannot afford them to keep Myron Wreath hostage any longer. It has tied our hands for too long. With his safety secured, action against the Seekers may proceed unhindered.”
I was stunned. Boldness was not what I’d come to expect of Jaxas Wreath. Hearing his plans, I wondered if I knew the man at all. “But how can we do this? We don’t have the strength.”
“Watcher Isidora informs me that her wardens are ready for this. I have no choice but to believe her. With help from the laurel guard and Heir Komo, I hope it will be enough.”
Watcher Isidora. I hadn’t realized Jaxas was in communication with the Acadian, much less close enough to command her. And he’d clearly been communicating with Kelena at length. I had the creeping suspicion that I was missing something right before my eyes.
“Vusu is in the heart of the Wyvern’s Claw, and you don’t know where the Despot is,” I pointed out.
“Kelena’s contacts inform us of this too — that Myron Wreath is held in a warehouse in Brinecoast.”
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard it from Kelena herself. Still, I struggled to mask my annoyance. “If you want to do both, you’ll have to split your forces.”
“We will. And in the middle of the enemy compound no less. Yet we must do this at the same time, or we will lose the opportunity.” He considered me for a moment. “I don’t think it’s as impossible as you seem to believe. The Seekers are not an army. They post sentries, but are untrained and ill organized. And our forces will have a significant distraction to use as cover.”
When had the foundations for these plans been laid? As I studied the unshifting determination on the Archon’s face, I couldn’t say. Perhaps, locked away in the depths of Tomes for many long turns, I’d missed far more than I knew.
“You seem to have thought this through.” The words sounded vapid to my own ears, and I continued quickly, “I suppose we’d better go to the Laurel Groves then.”
Though I made to rise, Jaxas arrested me when he spoke again. “Airene. I didn’t mean to exclude you from my plans. But you have been…” He searched for the word.
“Distracted,” I supplied him. I wondered why he felt the need to apologize to me. He owed me nothing.
Knowing we could delay no longer, I pressed out of the chair, a groan escaping me. My chest, the pain of which had been a slow burn with each breath in the chair, spiked, but I fought it down.
“Not distracted. You strive against a greater problem. I didn’t wish to pull you from it with my own concerns.”
I turned to look at him with watering eyes. What was he thinking behind that calm demeanor? What other plans did he keep hidden even now? “We’d better go while I’m still standing.”
Jaxas nodded, his gaze not leaving me. “The carriage is waiting out front. It’s not far.”
I suppressed a grim smile. Not far, perhaps, if every breath wasn’t agony. But I let him believe the comforting lie, and tried to believe it myself, as we began our slow descent.
21
Burn
There is power in hunger. It is a truth our people have denied for too long, brother. They believe our hunger makes us weak. That, starving, we have no hope for sustenance.
; But we know they are wrong, brother. In our God, we have glimpsed power only we can grasp. And I know you hunger for it as much as I do…
- Tales of the Desolate, uncensored; 1092 SLP
The others appeared from the gray twilight as Jaxas and I rolled into the Laurel Groves.
At every lurch of the carriage, I had to hold back a gasp, my ribs seeming to puncture new holes inside me. But I forgot my pain when rows of dark figures emerged from the dusky light. For a moment, I couldn’t help but doubt those silhouettes were on our side, but rather Seekers or Guilders waiting in ambush, though none of them moved toward us.
“Our army,” Jaxas said softly next to me.
I glanced at him. With a single pyr lamp lighting the carriage, shadows obscured his features. Our army — an odd thing to call them, an army. If this was an army, it was his, not ours.
I exited as soon as the carriage rolled to a stop, leaning heavily on the hand of the driver as I set foot to the ground. Every breath burned in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. These were our defenders against the Seekers. I wanted to be strong for them, or as strong as I could manage. I walked between the rows of figures, then stopped to look at those who had gathered.
To one side, the fourteen Watchers stood silently under the boughs of olive trees. Isidora stood before them, and Xaron next to her. They seemed to be holding hands, but when I looked again, their hands hung by their sides. Xaron had changed from his Hilarion clothes to as simple a tunic and trousers as I’d seen him wear, and a hood and cloak were pulled over his shoulders. The Acadians had disguised themselves similarly. With the dark cloaks on, I was uneasily reminded of the Seekers wardens we’d fought in Komo’s quarters.
This was different, I reminded myself. We were fighting for the right side. Even if we also used our forbidden magic for violence.
The laurel guards had gathered as well. I vaguely recognized the woman who stood before them: Synne of Gate, the First Laurel. She possessed a calm confidence and met my gaze with cool consideration. A score of armored warriors stood behind her, their armor gleaming dully from the pyr lamps mounted periodically along the garden road. They bore spears and bucklers, and short stabbing swords at their hips, like a taxos ready for war.
The group of warriors Komo stood before starkly contrasted with the laurel guards. His Yorandu soldiers stood dark and looming behind him, their peculiar armor of feathers, tassels, bones, and brass on prominent display. All of them, Komo included, had one side of their faces painted green, which seemed almost to glow in the low light, so they seemed otherworldly spirits more than soldiers. I nodded at the Shaka-Heir, and the boy nodded solemnly in return. My heart wrenched for him. He was so young, yet didn’t flinch from this, even though it would likely require him to kill again.
All of them would go, and I would stay. It pained me to admit it, but I knew better than to imagine I might go with them. I’d be more of a burden than help. I couldn’t reliably channel, or even walk far at the moment. Yet the relief that flooded through me brought the heat of shame to my face, and I was glad for the darkness.
Nomusa stood next to Kelena, still clothed in the fine, simple robes she’d worn to the Conclave. I’d hoped to see Corin with her, bearing a cart of Maesos’ goods, but my hopes were in vain. My friend glanced my way with hooded eyes, then looked away. I feared to think what that look meant. Kelena wore a dark cloak, the hood hiding her shaven head and tin spiral earrings. Her eyes were pools of darkness as she stared at me.
“Good. We are gathered.” Jaxas stopped next to me and surveyed the small army, then glanced at me. Without saying a word, he strode over to speak with Komo.
Not knowing what to make of the Archon’s behavior, I put him from mind and approached Nomusa and Kelena.
Nomusa watched me, her brow creased with concern. “I don’t think you should be up and walking. I worried when we left you asleep in Jaxas’ solar, but now I wish you’d stayed.”
“Glad to hear I’m welcome.” I grimaced as a fresh wave of pain washed over me and hoped she took it for a smile. “Are Maesos’ goods still coming?”
She shook her head. “No. He had no more of the pyrkin strain. And unless he can find someone to smuggle more from the Thulu, we won’t have those bolts again.”
The disappointment was sharp, but I tried to push it from mind. “And Corin? I expected her to be here.”
Nomusa shrugged. “Maesos hadn’t seen her for two days. I suppose she’s found some other place to stay.”
“Perhaps,” I managed, and tried not to think about it further. There was nothing I could do for her now. Just as there was nothing I could do for Talan. Cold fear clawed through my gut. How many friends would I lose before this war was over?
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Nomusa, drawing her in as close as my ribs allowed. “You’ll be safe at least,” I whispered.
She returned the embrace as carefully. “Perhaps. But I’ll be in the lion’s den. Someone has to watch the Council and make sure they don’t interfere.”
“You’re the bravest of us all then.” Releasing her, I turned to Kelena and took a breath to compose myself. “You seem to be in close contact with Jaxas.”
The honor’s expression remained blank. “I believe you attached yourself to Archon Jaxas as well when you wished to be involved in events of importance. I had resources that could be of value to him, and I offered them.”
That took me aback. She thought I’d tried to reprimand her. And perhaps I had, I realized too late.
“I don’t fault you for it,” I amended. “In fact, I’m grateful. We need anything to strike a blow against the Manifest.”
She smiled thinly. “This will be more than a blow, Airene.”
I was surprised at how thin my name sounded without my recently acquired title. It didn’t matter, I reminded myself. Before Kelena could see the effect of her words, I turned and made my slow way toward Xaron and Isidora.
My friend flashed me a cocky smile as I approached, but it was too wide to be believable. Isidora looked a little more certain, though her fingers danced against her legs. But I’d seen her kill without hesitation during the trial. I trusted she’d keep her wits about her when it came to fighting.
“You’re awake,” Xaron said. “I thought that climb might have done you in.”
“Not yet.” I looked him up and down. “You look good out of Hilarion clothes. More yourself.”
“I feel more myself. You have no idea how scratchy sackcloth is. Especially when it’s rubbing against your—”
“Glad to see you’ll be watching over him,” I interrupted quickly, addressing Isidora. “Make sure he comes out alive, will you?”
She flashed me a thin smile. “I will. I want him to stick around for some reason beyond me.”
Xaron shrugged. “It’s no mystery. You’re in love with me.”
The Watcher leader flushed, while Xaron grinned at her.
I smiled too, then seized his hand. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
He pulled me into an embrace. “Unlike your own clandestine love,” he murmured into my hair.
I nodded wearily, letting him take some of my weight. But as he was the one going into danger, I knew I couldn’t lean on his strength. Reluctantly, I pulled away and glanced over at Komo and his warriors. “I should thank him for being here.”
“Then go. We’ll come back, never fear.”
I tried not to think about it as I turned toward the Bali regiment. The boy watched my slow approach, his expression brittle. Even his sense of control, incredible in his youth, couldn’t hide the fear behind his painted face.
I stopped a respectful distance before him. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I did,” the boy replied heavily. “You showed me that. Even Nkosi said honor compelled me to go.”
“Nkosi did? It’s hard to believe that old root came around.”
A smile flitted across Komo’s lips. “I am glad he knew better than to try and come wi
th. He can be too stubborn for his own good.”
“I know the kind. Take care, Heir Komo.”
“And you, Finch Airene.”
I turned away, not having the heart to correct him, and found Jaxas standing not far behind me. But the man standing next to him, and the four hooded strangers behind them, made me stop in my tracks. Even in the dim light, the aqua color of the cowls made their identity clear.
“What are they doing here?” The words came out as a demand.
“Tribune Timon has come at my request,” Jaxas said, his tone neutral.
The Tribune leered at him, his pinched features only worsened by the heavy shadows clinging to his hollowed eyes. “Hello again, Finch. Or should I even call you that now?”
I barely hid my distaste. “Why?” I asked Jaxas bluntly.
The Archon studied me for a moment. “You’ll understand soon.”
He turned from me to the rest of those gathered, and I stared at his back. I didn’t like how mysteries were piling up around the man, the one Wreath I thought I could trust. I hoped I still could, no matter the secrets he kept from me.
“Thank you all for harking to my call tonight,” Jaxas began, his voice loud and strong, almost reminiscent of Myron. “I know it is on short notice and the message was vague. But we must act quickly if we are to take advantage and get ahead of our foes.”
“You mean the Manifest.” Isidora posed it as a question.
Jaxas nodded. “And others. The Avvadin Imperium marches on our city. We cannot hope to prevail if Oedija stands divided against its armies. We must strike at the heart of the Manifest now and hope it is enough to begin its unraveling.”
“What is our quarry?” First Laurel Synne asked, her words precise and clipped.
Jaxas swept his gaze slowly over his audience. “The head of the dragon,” he said, quiet but carrying in the silence. “We strike for Vusumuzi himself.”
As murmurs bubbled up around us, I feared the news would break this tenuous fellowship. But even though they shifted their feet and glanced nervously at their compatriots, no one backed away. A warm glow of pride began in my chest. I stood among Oedija’s bravest, I knew that now. I tried to ignore the squirm of guilt that I wouldn’t have to put my own courage to the test tonight.
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