She stopped halfway up the staircase. “You sit here as theTetrarchy’srepresentative to govern this city. You answer to them, and that means you answer to me.”
He wasn’t cowed. “Only because you’re sleeping with Magus Supreme Kadra.”
Sarai stilled. This close to the landing, she caught the silence that fell over the northern vigiles there, could practically see their ears prick in interest. She continued up the stairs, each step slow, purposeful. “Did word reach this city of who killed Aelius?”
She heard a gulp behind her.
“So, you heard.” Another step. “Former Magus Supreme of Ur Dinyé, and he died like a stuck pig roasted over flame at my hand. Didn’t you wonder why I didn’t mind comingaloneand left my guards behind?” Anger leaked into her voice despite her attempt at nonchalance. “Of the Tetrarchy and its Petitors, I’m the one with the most patience.” She reached the top step and turned to face him, still frozen below. “Do you want to keep testing it?”
Ythras’s mouth moved faster than a beetle swarm. “I was referring to the coalition of northern Praetors. The Clanlord pays most of us for our cooperation.”
Realization and horror crashed through her, twin tidal waves.We’ve been played for fools. The north had silently but fully seceded from the Tetrarchy’s grasp.
As a Bridger, Dalvia could send every able-bodied northern vigile outside Edessa’s gates in a heartbeat. And Noceo could make every lightning magus on Edessa’s city walls raze it to the ground.
Ruin’s breath, Kadra. No wonder you sprinted home. Thinking of him brought Noceo to mind. She suppressed a flinch. She couldn’t think about what that eerily similar face meant yet.
Chilled to the bone, she allowed herself to be led out to the city walls where the other vigiles and Méherre waited. Wide-lipped braziers perched atop the pavement on either side of the road into Komis, burning as bright as day in an attempt to deter the beetles.
A Coercer, Telmar had said weeks ago. A magus who could make anyone do anything.That’s one mystery solved. She didn’t have to wonder atthe blank spots in her mind anymore. Noceo had painted over them. They must have met. Was Edessa’s madness-struck tied to him, too?
Then, there was the final mystery. The one that had warned her that everything was about to go wrong. Because Kadra never lied to her. But he’d always kept his secrets close.
Everyone in Edessa and out knew of his story. An extraordinarily powerful street child adopted by Tetrarch Othus. A brilliant student at the Academaie who’d graduated early. Iudex. Tetrarch. And almost five years later, Magus Supreme.
His supporters adored him almost as much as she did, because they knew he understood. That he’d seen the ugliest corners of humanity and fought ruthlessly to blot them out. He’d chosenher, a northern street rat-turned-Petitor without formal training and tossed her into the crucible of politics while silently serving as her shield. Given her his life, his body, his heart.
But had he given her the truth?
She barely heard Méherre’s worried questions. Forcing out a polite goodnight, she trudged to her room in the inn. And when she slipped into an uneasy sleep, she found fractured memories, screams and fire, and a single devastating question.
When does an omission become a lie?
Night after night, in the years post-Komis, he had kept vigil with a dangerous noose. Oblivion.
He was well-accustomed to the many guises it took. Blazeleaf, blood, whitesleep, wine. For the thousands of times that he had sent people past Death’s precipice, there were a few where he had glanced down himself. Those had increased after what he had done to the Sidran Tower Girl, and the realization that he was no different from his family. He had chased oblivion frequently after that. The taste had haunted him for five years until a pair of golden eyes had wrenched him to wakefulness.
Now, another noose dangled before him. Truth. He would hang himself with it tomorrow.
After he hung them first.
Kadra let his gaze rest on those assembled within Delran Tower’s ballroom, mildly amused at the array of reactions that provoked. Anger.As expected. Fear and grandiosity.Commonplace. But the sly derision promised a challenge.
He was in no mood for challenges.
Prying himself from Sarai and the mingled questions and hurt in her eyes had knifed him. His anger had brewed upon returning to Edessa and worsened upon finding that Inquisitor Verentia had forced Cassandane to a meeting with all fifty-eight Guildmasters.
At one end of the lengthy banquet table bisecting Delran Tower’s ballroom, Grains Guildmaster Ioratius steepled his fingers and slid a glance at Verentia. She returned an infinitesimal nod.
“Head Tetrarch Cassandane, I’m starting to wonder if you’re out to destroy the Guilds. This story that you’ve spread regarding the spread of this beetle plague has ruined my Guild’s reputation and is alie.You’ve been content to pin this crisis on us and do nothing to aid Edessa.”
On the opposite end of the table and to Kadra’s left, Cassandane raised her eyebrows. “Guildmaster, the first rash of deaths occurred in your own private horreum. We’ve since learned that the beetle larvae entered the city in sacks of whitesleep. Your departed Guildspeople were familiar with those sacks either because they brought them in or because they partook of them. The location of their deaths strongly suggests the former,” she lied glibly.
Faces shuttered down the table. Hands choked their wineglasses in an attempt to occupy themselves. To Cassandane’s right, Harion looked nervous.
How many of them had Noceo gotten to? That this meeting had been called on the night of his return indicated that his brother was dangerously close. Kadra’s jaw tightened. This was why he had left Sarai in the north. Even Gaius’s loyalty would stand little chance against Noceo’s abilities.
“Head Tetrarch,” Ioratius tried again, “keeping Edessa closed to entry is an unjustifiable intrusion on our business. You might consider that the culprits are targeting the Guilds and investigate our enemies—”
