Jacen fought through his headache to perform a sloppy psychic scan of the vicinity. “It’s just the guards by the audience chamber. They’re too far to hear us. Why?—”
“My father is an unfit ruler,” said Ged, without preamble. “I intend to supplant him. I will not wait for him to die while our people suffer under his rule. And I will require your help.”
What had Avramsaidto him after Jacen left? He could only surmise it had been spectacularly counterproductive.
“Why—” Jacen started, for all the good it did.
“I saw you speaking with my son after the offering ceremony. Answer me honestly—does he have your gift?”
Shit.Jacen had been dreading the possibility of this question.
“If you don’t tell me,” Ged said, “I’ll have the Church’s seekers confirm it anyway.”
Jacen remained silent, but Ged nodded, with the air of one making a grim but necessary calculation. “I thought so. And he’s too weak to be of interest to the Church?”
Jacen had come to the same conclusion. But the way Ged said that word—weak—made his skin crawl. As if nothing in the world were more repellent.
Jacen repeated, for the third time, “Why?”
“The most powerful demons favor telepaths, you said. Would a weak one suffice?”
Jacen couldn’t be understanding this correctly. “You don’t intend tosend Neri after?—”
“Of course I do. The Holy Mother won’t send one of her priests, and my father capitulates to her as usual. Neither of them comprehends that this demon in the canyon—if that’s truly what it is—could be the weapon of our salvation.”
Jacen would have bet his left arm they comprehended it. If he had heard the Zal murmurings ofheat and shadow,the stirrings of demon priests the Church had never quite exterminated, so had High Lord Semira and Mother Akkani. Jacen would also bet his entire hoard of agave liquor that they knew more than Ged,enough to understand that whatever he had planned . . . it would not go the way he thought.
“You can’t be serious,” Jacen blurted. He couldn’t think of an inoffensive way to sayHave you lost your mind?It was the most logical explanation, for a plan that required using one’s eleven-year-old son as bait for whatever unholy thing lurked in the canyon. “Why not go yourself?”
“I am not a telepath.” Ged’s expression was withering. “I am also the Knight Commander of Zivora, and my plans are layered.”
Jacen held up his hands. “Sorry I suggested it. But?—”
“I don’t need your abilities to understand that your Order has almost had enough of you.” Ged looked Jacen up and down. “What would you have without the priesthood? No place to live. Nothing to do. Only a hastened opportunity to drink yourself into an early grave. So, let me be clear: your compliance is not optional.”
Jacen had seen Ged crack a man’s skull with his bare hands. It seemed profoundly unfair that he should also be perceptive.
Five years earlier, Jacen might have gone home to pray about this. He’d fallen out of practice in the time since, but tonight felt more final. Tonight, all he saw when he closed his eyes was that skull—unhearing, uncaring,empty.
He ground out, “What else can I do for you, my lord?”
“For now? Keep quiet.” Ged said it like a threat. “And expect to hear from me.”
5
CONFESSION
JACEN
Jacen woke the next morning from a liquor-induced approximation of sleep, sick and exhausted, just as his daily report arrived by pigeon. He had time to feed the bird but not himself, blunt his hangover with a shot, and change into cleaner robes before Nines emerged from her room. Though he tried to pretend nothing was amiss, his thoughts wandered incessantly back to the skull of the fallen god, glistening white as death in the moonslight.
He set off for the Citadel before he could lose his nerve. If he didn’t gonow, he never would, and there would be nothing to stop him from spending the day alone with a bottle. As for what he thought he might accomplish . . . he’d lain awake for a long while trying to figure that out. He couldn’t go to Akkani about this—he just couldn’t—but neither could he sit by and let Ged do as he pleased.
So, Jacen set out to find Seth. It was better than nothing.
The Citadel’s streets were quiet but for the occasional lay brother or sister and servants of Zivora’s wealthiest citizens whodwelled in the towers. A cylindrical polyhedron lurked in the central plaza, drifting in circles like a very large, slow vulture. Jacen quickened his pace as he crossed its shadow, and today heknewhe saw it rotate in his direction. He tugged at his collar, suddenly short of breath.
He sent Nines off to her meeting with the Council, at which they would presumably discuss Jacen and his shortcomings. He proceeded alone.
