The Governor raised a brow. “Well?”
Roy cleared his throat, then declared, “In return for the answers you seek, you would promise us the collective safety of Northgard,notexcluding the remaining survivors of our community.”
“Oh, is that all? What, pray tell, would I get in return for upending years of established policy?”
With another calming breath—and a nod from Percival—Roy said, “We would burn the Basilica to the ground upon the completion of our assignment.”
The Governor uttered a croaky laugh. “Well, boys. I’ll admit that this was not what I expected. Too, I admire your tenacity. But I have dispatched my men many a time to immolate these ancient grounds. What makes you believe you’re capable of accomplishing what we could not?”
Roy battled the temptation to place his hand on Percival’s leg, which had begun bouncing in agitation, then said, “While Northgard is generally unsympathetic toward, and disbelieving of, old-world mysticism, the Orphic Basilica is an unmistakably arcane landmark. I was once skeptical myself, but on multiple occasions, I have encountered the uncanny.”
The Governor cocked his head, awaiting an explanation.
“This library has openly communicated with us,” Roy said. “It has provided us food and beverages, sometimes upon request. I realize you’ve tried your hand at leveling the Basilica, but neither of us has been rejected by the library, like you and your Droves were.”
The Drove standing rigidly on the left of the Governor swiveled his head and assessed Roy, his crimson eyes shimmering with unnerving intelligence. Roy attempted to make out, beneath that infernal glow, the light of vitality. But the red light seemed flat and lifeless, as though some unholy sorcery had excised the soul. Was this what Briar had seen in Gregori? Roy shuddered to think of it.
Something else struck him, too. Neither of the Droves seemed at all affected by the library now. He had no sound theories at this moment for why that may be, but this ephemeral idea—that it was as if the Orphic Basilica was anxious to see the fallout of the impending interrogation and so had somehow immunized the two men—was one he could not shake.
Roy lowered his voice and continued, “We should be the ones to wield the torch against the library, however it can be done. We’ll secure further rapport with the Basilica—”
“Something we’ve already been establishing,” Percival interjected.
“—and then burn it all down, but”—Roy raised a hand—“we will not spark a single ember without being ensured of our dying community’s well-being.”
Almost as soon as Roy had finished speaking, the Governor slapped the desk. “Done! A fine deal, Roy Dawnseve.”
Percival’s jaw dropped.
“A . . . A fine deal?” Roy asked.
The Governor laughed. “Why, by all means! The library is as beautiful as it is a large, unwieldy nuisance. Without it lingering near our city like an unwanted pimple, our industries could expand their resources and hubs of power over this valuable land. Once the Old Ones are finally bested, revenue will soar and Northgard’s military influence will reach the southern islands of the Hasdan Isles. Imagine thesolidarity. What a beautiful prospect! Oh yes, burn this library down!”
It wasn’t so much the Governor’s words but his enthusiasm that almost destroyed Roy. He felt trapped inside himself, confined in his own skin, unable to look away from the egregious mistake he’d made. Because the Governor had been manipulating the deprived citizens of Northgard for longer than Roy could fathom. So how could Roy have convinced himself the Governor wouldn’t pluck some permanent advantage from their offer? And yet...
Yes, his tyrannical government would persist, but so would Briar, Percival, Roy, and the rest of the scholars. Furthermore, if he was being honest, there would certainly besomeeconomic benefit to the whole city if the Governor’s dream came to fruition.
But even as he tried to feel relieved—hehadmostly concocted this deal to save the academic community—Roy knew that he had also somehow consolidated even more power into the hands of the Governor, and that Northgard would be held captive in its own walls, just with a less visible threat.
Not to mention what he’d said about the southern islands.
“Solidarity?” Percival echoed, homing in on that latter point. “You’re talking about unification.”
“Long ago, the islandswereunited,” the Governor said. “They lived under one name, Northgard, since the landmass first rose from the sea. As time passed, though, rifting tectonic plates broke the supercontinent and fractured the southern tip of Northgard into several islands. The rift valley, that little slip of sea between Northgard and our southern neighbors, divided us.” He smiled. “Now, I may not be able to shove two lands together, but I at least want to do my part and join our forces once again.”
“Is that unification... or subjugation?” Percival asked, and Roy felt a slight catch in his breath.
The Governor only smiled. “If it is ultimately to their benefit, which word seems more appropriate?”
They all sat there with that lingering in the air before the Governor cleared his throat.
“But first we must rid ourselves of the Old Ones,” he said. “It’s clear their story is steeped in evil, and like most fanciful stories, they must be stamped out. I want them banished, never to walk this land or any other again.” The Governor tugged on his collar, and Roy caught a small glimpse of the necklace encircling his throat. His eyes had happened upon it during their first meeting, and he could’ve sworn it had been onyx, but perhaps the dim light had muddled his vision, confusing him. Because now it almost certainly looked duller, muted, not quite as lustrous as before. The Governor drew it out and fiddled with it unconsciously.
“Have you always had that necklace?” Roy asked.
“Only since my wife passed,” the Governor said, a slight flush on his cheeks. He tucked the necklace back beneath his collar. “She gifted it to me before she... she left us. I wear it to honor her vision of unity.”
Dimestra had told Roy something of the Governor’s late wife. Again, he cast his mind back to the ride to the Orphic Basilica.The Governor has been...absentsince his wife passed some few years ago. Her death has taken a mercilessly heavy toll on his health.
