“The revenants in the quarry holding pens were incinerated and the land scorched, but no wildfire raced across the prairie. It would have if it were a normal fire. This was starfire, and the witness said it was wielded by a warden Poppy had captured. There’d been a revenant breakout, and he’d helped cull them.”
“Impossible. Wardens do not accept tithes that carry the ability to cast starfire. No royal of any country would give up a member of their blood to the wardens. The Poison Accords do not allow it.”
“Then if not the warden, who would have cast starfire?”
Joelle set the photograph aside and picked up the letter and unfolded it. The hastily drafted message reported what Artyom had said, though with a little more detail in describing the devastation. She read it twice over before setting it aside. “Myrionetkashave not reported back that any of the major Houses are traveling at this time save the thrice-damned emperor. He has been in Oeiras for weeks now, and could not have been at the quarry last night.”
Artyom made a face before taking a seat in front of her desk. “Can those abominations even be trusted?”
“Nothing from Daijal can be trusted, but they can be useful. I know of every member of every House, major or minor, who has the ability to cast starfire. They are few, of varying strengths, and none were in ourvasilyet.”
Artyom raised an eyebrow. “You know every Solarian who can cast starfire, but what of those in other countries?”
Joelle stared down at the photograph, studying the blackened vista. Artyom was correct in that if it had been a wildfire, it would have raced across the prairie. They built walls around their cities using metal and stone as much to keep out revenants as to keep fire from ravaging their homes.
Of those from other countries who cast starfire, Joelle knew of some this generation. The numbers had dwindled after the eradication of the Rourke bloodline, with only Eimarille surviving.
That we know of.
The thought skittered across her mind, tilting the playing field before her with unknown possibilities. If one star god could favor a child, surely the other five could give their blessings to another?
“If the magician who cast starfire was truly a warden, then it begs the question of who gave them up. All children show the spark of magic young, and starfire burns hot in the blood. Giving a tithe with starfire to the wardens would have been done on purpose, perhaps to keep someone safe. The wardens would have broken the Poison Accords if that were the case,” Joelle said slowly.
Artyom proved he was of her House and worthy of the title of heir as he put the pieces together. “You think this warden is from Ashion. You think he’s Rourke.”
Joelle tapped her finger against the photograph. “I think there are quite a lot of possibilities here.”
Even if the warden wasn’t Rourke, she could spin him as such. She could use the warden if they could find him.
“What will you tell Eimarille? The laboratory is destroyed, along with the death-defying machine they gave us, and we don’t know who this warden is.”
“I’ll tell her the truth. That her laboratory was destroyed by starfire and we don’t know by whom, but that they couldn’t have been of the Houses.” Joelle smiled, meeting her son’s gaze. “We won’t mention the warden. I want him found for our own uses.”
Artyom stood and bowed. “As you will it, Mother.”
He left the message and photograph on her desk and took his leave. Joelle retrieved both, hiding them away in one of the many secret compartments of her desk. Information was power, as much as a throne was. Leverage was what you made of it.
“Perhaps the broadsheets lied,” she murmured to herself. “Perhaps Prince Alasandair lived after all.”
One way or another, Joelle would use this to her House’s advantage.
Three
VANYA
Oeiras was a coastal port city, situated near the mouth of the Tirsha River that fed the sprawling tropical rainforest that was the city’s backdrop. Thevasilyetoverseen by the House of Dayal encompassed that dangerous greenery. The walls surrounding Oeiras were always manned against the revenant wild beasts that crawled out from beneath the canopy.
The Oeiras port was a bustling place of trade. Individual Tovanian ships, separated from their ship-cities, made anchor at many of the piers to offload cargo or let their crew enjoy time in the city. Daijalan ships, both merchant class and their navy, came and went, watched over by the Solarian navy. Urovan submersibles had specialized berths, though their presence this far south wasn’t a large one.
Trade with the Tovan Isles was an important undertaking that Vanya approached like a war game. Solaria needed what clarion crystal the Tovan people were willing to part with from their island nation. Their clarion crystals were of a slightly different construction than the ones they got from E’ridia and were used in the more advanced machines the Legion’s engineers invented.
The dignitary room used for trade talks with the Tovan Isles delegation in Oeiras’ Imperial estate contained a deep pool filled with salt water. Anchored to the ledge was an elaborate floating cabana, decked out with all the luxury attributed to someone with an important rank in high society. The engines that kept it afloat were a soft thrum that was easy for Vanya to ignore from his seat near the edge of the pool. The low table he and his aides sat behind mirrored the one the Tovan Isles ambassador and her people were seated at.
Ambassador Akeheni, of the ship-city Matariki, had been a ship’s captain for more than half her life, based on the thin tattooed lines that arced away from the outer corner of her hazel eyes and framed her chin and mouth. A six-pointed star tattooed between her eyes was the mark of a government official, and Akeheni took her role seriously.
She was, like most Tovanians, an extremely skilled bargainer.
The detritus of the midday meal had been taken away some time ago, and they were back to hammering out the thorny details of trade. It was tedious work, and Vanya was glad for an interruption after a week of politicking.
