And in return for staying out of my business but throwing me to the wolves—
“Am I to understand,” I say slowly, “that a leader you considered wise would not ally herself with the Prince of Makora?”
Koshiel eyes gleam. “I see I was not wrong in my assessment of your judgment.”
I can practically feel my eyes spark.
Of course, she only judged me worthy—of being used—once she saw that I was powerful enough to be a dangerous asset to Nariel.
Because a wizard from Low Earth can’t be a power in her own right, of course. She can only be used, be it by a demon or by an angel.
And of course the angel thinks humans are so weak, so mercenary that I would jump at this fucking slime of a deal—
“You may even keep your wand, as a sign of our goodwill,” Koshiel continues. “And to ensure you have the space to make good choices, since, as you say, choices are dependent upon specifics, are they not? This fallen angel will return to Dark Earth and remain there.
“And if he breaks his confinement—“ Koshiel smiles, and I shudder. “Bright Earth will treat that as an act of war of—what did you call your paltry domain, ‘Makora’?—and all of Dark Earth will suffer the consequences.”
I suck in a breath.
That’s a bridge too far. It’s a hundred bridges too far.
Not even for the security it would buy me, and all the wizards of Low Earth, to not have to worry about angelic interference on top of the mages.
I have an obligation to protect this world now, yes.
I don’t get to sacrifice another world for my own security.
“And if,” I ask in a low, dangerous voice, “the leader of Low Earth objected to having a part in threatening genocide?”
“Don’t.”
It’s Nariel, his voice sharp, harsh in a way I’ve never heard it, and I meet his gaze.
It’s like we have a whole conversation silently.
He reminds me of Costa Rica, when I let my emotions rule me and he pulled me back from the brink because too many people would pay the price.
And I look back at him and let him see in my face that I ammadand ready to fight.
“Don’t,” he says to me again more quietly.
He’s tired.
So am I.
If we fight right now, we may lose, but I cannot accept this. I can’t.
I’m stupid after all.
But Nariel, that fucking martyr, gets to make his own choices, and without breaking eye contact with me he raises his voice and says, “I will go and will not break the wards you set, so long as Bright Earth upholds their end of the agreement.”
Leaving himself a loophole. Nariel has lasted as long as he has by surviving long enough to take another chance.
“Then we are agreed,” Koshiel purrs, and I do not miss the fact that she did not actually care what I said.
She’ll regret that.
I will make them all regret this so hard, because they won’t be able to stop me.
