“Yeah, same,” Stefan said.
“You think this could fix the winds?” Gidon was less hesitant and soft-spoken than I’d ever heard him. “Because my parents have a vineyard. If the Maestril doesn’t come…”
He didn’t need to finish. We all knew: If the Maestril didn’t come, the soil and vines didn’t dry, the grapes and olives didn’t grow, the wine and oil wasn’t made, and there was nothing to sell. No income for the year.
Daziel stored Paz on his shoulder and finally looked at my cohort. “I hope so.”
“Then let’s start,” Gidon said.
~~~
By seven bells, we’dreplicated the scrolls. With copies, we relaxed a little. “It’s time,” Yael said.
The five of us traipsed down the single floor to Professor Altschuler’s office. He looked up as we entered. Behind him, on the ledge of the tall, narrow window where sparrows used to land,a line of eerily neon beetles strolled across the sill. “Yes? What is it?”
Yael looked at me, and I took my cue. “We have something to tell you.”
Professor Altschuler kept laughing.
I’d never heard him laugh before, but now I remembered that before he’d been a tenured professor with an office in a tower, he’d been an adventurer, leading expeditions all over the country and abroad. He must have had a thirst for adventure, and this was an adventure.
“My apologies,” he said when he saw our faces, for I wasn’t the only appalled student. “It’s simply rare one’s research has such an impact. And this is—perhaps more dramatic than I expected.”
We all stared at him.
He pulled himself together. “I’ll go to President Meissner immediately,” he said, naming the Lyceum’s president, a woman I’d only seen a handful of times, usually striding about in the distance, looking awfully important. “They’llhaveto give us funding. No grant writing, no waiting—they’ll have to approve it today.” He practically frothed at the mouth in excitement. “Doubtless the Sanhedrin will have to be told—Bat Yardena, have you told your aunt?”
“Uh—not yet.”
“Tell her—we might be able to get an audience sooner, though I imagine they’ll expedite this.” He glanced at Daziel, less withering than usual. “I see why you want to be involved. Your people are concerned?”
Daziel constructed one of his haughtiest expressions. “Naturally.”
~~~
The very next day,Daziel and I once more waited in the antechamber for the Great Council of the Sanhedrin, alongside Professor Altschuler and the president of the Lyceum. (I’d not been invited, only Daziel, but I figured I’d go along until they kicked me out.) Aunt Tirtzah hadn’t accompanied us, though I’d told her everything; she’d be inside at her normal seat.I can do you more good from there, where the other council members will remember I’m their peer, she’d said.
“Good to meet you.” President Meissner shook my hand as we waited. She was medium in height, weight, and coloring, with cropped hair and a furrowed brow. Her clothes were simply cut from expensive fabrics, and while her amulet looked modest, I’d bet the stones making up the sun and stars of Issachar were diamonds; she came from one of the tribe’s preeminent families. “And, Lord Daziel, I regret it’s taken this long for us to make each other’s acquaintance.”
He ignored her hand, as supercilious as I’d ever seen him. “You mean you did not care to until you realized I was a high shayd, not wild.”
She wasn’t flustered as she dropped her hand; I supposed you couldn’t afford to be if you presided over an institution like the Lyceum. “Not much point arguing with wild shedim. They aren’t making treaties and generally refuse to follow them, too, without a member of your court around.”
A civil servant entered, heels striking sharp against the marble floor, their gray uniform crisp. They spoke to the one minding us, who said, “You may go in.”
I followed Professor Altschuler and President Meissner. My hand itched to take Daziel’s, but I resisted. I wasn’t ready to be the one who reached out. Still, we stood so close our shoulders almost brushed as we once more faced the semicircle of representatives. I sought out Aunt Tirtzah, who gave me a reassuring nod, then the Naphtali councilors. One of them smiled.
“So.” The Chief Judge tapped his desk, upon which lay what I could only assume was a letter from the Lyceum informing them of the news. “TheZiz?”
The president started to speak, but the Chief Judge spoke over her. “I’m sorry, Meira, we need to hear from the demon. This is too much.”
“He’s a shayd,” I said. “Not a demon.”
The chief sighed. Everyone was always sighing at me.
Daziel spoke in a light drawl. “I think Lola Hawthorne has a far superior range than Fiona Maple, but I confess, I cannot take her seriously in villain roles. She is too young to have the gravitas to carry the part.”
Now I sighed.
