“What tier?” Neri asked.
“I don’t know,” said the man. “I’m—I’m very weak, probably only Tier Two.”
“And how old are you?”
“I—” The man’s brow furrowed. “Thirty-six.” “Are you in good physical health?”
Though clearly confused, the man answered, “Never been sick a day in my life. My lord.”
“Are you willing to serve?”
The merchant sagged with relief. “Yes. Yes, I’ll serve. Anything, my lord.”
Neri nodded shortly. He signaled to a pair of guards posted by the door. “Take him to a cell. We will speak with him later.”
The man continued to stammer his thanks as he was escorted out. A Tier Two telepath. Those were common but not very useful. Hesaya and her Disciples had been in search of candidates to attempt the Trial of the Gate, to rebuild the valak’s ranks, but she’d specifically asked for none weaker than Tier Three.
The Gatekeeper appeared as perplexed as Seth, the Disciples at her back exchanging glances. It was the look on Ysira’s face, though, that gave Seth pause. She was troubled. Maybe even horrified.
Before Seth could mull that over, one of the priests spat on the floor. “Demon.Murderers.”
Neri raised his hand again.
But Jacen spoke up. “I have no desire to decimate what’s left of our order. We’re among the strongest weapons this world has.”
Jacen wore dark clerical vestments much like he had before, but with a red sash. Instead of the double-circle pendant, he wore one that resembled the symbol behind the throne.
He seemed energized these days, barely sleeping, as he wrote proclamations, received petitioners, and helped Neri sort through the nebulous depths of history contained in Naxal. Seth had not seen Jacen even try to find a drink. But his demeanor called to mind exactly how he’d behaved in the full throes of his addiction. There was tension writ across his face for just a moment—something shoved aside, drowned instead of dealt with.
He addressed the priests. “Brother, Sister—I must impress upon you the importance of choosing a side.”
The female priest’s face darkened, closed off. Her pale eyes flicked up at Neri. With a single nod, she bowed her head.
The male priest said, “You’ll suffer for eternity for this.” Neri turned his gaze on Jacen. “Handle this.”
Jacen hesitated only an instant. The defiant priest clutched his temples and collapsed with a scream, blood pouring from his nostrils. For a few awful seconds, he jerked and twitched—then fell still.
“Let it be known,” Neri said, “that this is how we will punish traitors. We trust that no one else wishes to disrupt this council and that when you depart, you’ll spread the word.” He sat and motioned to Ysira. “Mother—proceed.”
It took a few seconds for Ysira to speak. When she did, even the magistrates proved markedly more deferential, discussing tedious matters of logistics and policy with the grimness of funeral preparations. Though Neri did little besides observe—Naxal had not struck Seth as interested in the day-to-day of governing—the implicit threat of his presence loomed like the open gullet of a predator.
Ysira concluded the meeting with a eulogy. It was mostly nonsense—another performance, meant to enshrine the heroes of the revolution in legend. She praised them as saints and icons of a new faith, their legacies scrubbed down and sanitized.
Ogden of Alendal, the great healer, in whose name she consecrated a new hospital.
Urien of Ihrafang, the defector from empire, who told of wonders beyond the stars.
Kanan Var Mondral, Dacil Var Solai, and Elyas Var Teneb—the martyred demon priests.
Eneva Nal Karak, the last Gatekeeper of Otavok.
And Ged Semira—spearhead of the resistance and father of a god.
When Jacen had put forth that final name last week, Ysira had walked out of the room. But to omit Neri’s father from the legend they sought to craft, Jacen reasoned, would have come across as odd. Though Ged hadn’t been much loved, he had been very present, both in Zivora and throughout this entire mess. He had even been its catalyst.
Seth still could not quite reckon with that, and he likely never would.
But a simple lie was more convenient than a complicated truth.
