“Once a tithe has been processed formally into our ranks, they begin their education and training immediately. When wardens return from the borders and poison fields, we are expected to collaborate on the data and chemical analysis we bring in,” Yufei said.
“What happens if a warden can’t go back out into the poison fields again?”
“We find a place for them, either here or at a resupply station somewhere across the continent. Wardens are always needed.” He said that proudly, with not a trace of bitterness for a life given up from whatever country had tithed him.
The rest of the walk was done in silence, following twisting paths and streets to a squat, unremarkable building. It was warm inside, and Caris licked sweat off her upper lip as they traversed stairways. They were finally waved into an office overflowing with folios, a sofa with sagging cushions and threadbare seams that looked comfortable for a nap, and maps of all kinds pinned to one wall.
“Governor,” Yufei said with a head tilt in greeting. “I’ve broughtjarlHonovi, Blaine, and Caris for you, as requested.”
“Thank you,” the governor said. “Dismissed.”
He slipped out of the office, closing the door behind him. Caris laced her fingers together behind her back as she stared at the woman before them. The wardens’ governor sat behind the wide wooden desk and studied them with a gaze that startled Caris—not because of the woman’s attention but because of her eyes. One eye was her own, while the other was made of black glass with hints of gold flecks in it. She wore a monocle over her good eye, the leather straps securing it in place wrapped snugly around her skull.
“I’m Delani, governor of the Warden’s Island,” she said in a raspy voice. “It’s rare we get a request for citizens to want entry here, especially on such short notice.”
“I don’t believe the Poison Accords ban citizens from the island,” Honovi said carefully.
“It doesn’t.” Delani stared at him for a long moment before her gaze slipped away to focus on Caris. “But you’re not here as tithes, nor are you here as oversight, are you, princess?”
Blaine bristled beside her, and Caris tried not to flinch at that title. “I’m no princess.”
Delani raised an eyebrow, expression clearly disbelieving. “That’s not what the broadsheets out of Ashion are saying.”
“Do you get many here?” Blaine asked sharply.
“Wardens send reports in every day through telegraph machines and telephones. I’m well aware of what has occurred in Amari over the last few weeks. I am not the one who named you princess, who espouses you can be queen. That is your public.”
“They aren’t mine,” Caris said. “My name was never written down in the royal genealogies.”
“You wield starfire” was Delani’s blunt reply. “That’s mark enough of royal blood, especially in Ashion.”
Blaine stepped forward, edging partway in front of Caris, as if he could hide her how he had with his silence all these years. “She isn’t why we are here.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Governor—”
“Peace. I’m a warden. We have no say in your politics and don’t want any. Our duty is to the borders and always has been.”
“And to the dead,” Honovi said. “Which is why we are here.”
“Nathaniel isn’t dead,” Caris protested.
“No, he’s merely been turned into arionetka.”
Delani’s good eye narrowed slightly behind the glass monocle she wore. “I understand he still breathes.”
“He’snota revenant. I won’t let you harm him,” Caris said sharply.
“We’ve only received deadrionetkasand broken hearts. It will be interesting to see a breathing one.”
“He’salive.”
“For a given definition of such.”
Caris opened her mouth to argue, but Blaine shot her a pleading look. “Caris, please.”
Unspoken went the warning that they couldn’t afford to anger the wardens if they wanted help. Nathaniel’s life depended on the people here, so Caris held her tongue, for all that she wanted to protest Delani’s opinion of Nathaniel’s current state.
