The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

   

  A knock wrapped on the door and Tryss nearly leapt out of her chair. “What?”

  “Dinner will be served soon, my lady,” Lepton’s voice said through door. “You don’t want to miss it.”

  Tryss rubbed at her eyes and glanced to the window. It was already dark outside, apparently, and she shook her head in bewilderment. With the ever-glow lanterns on the wall she hadn’t even noticed the change in light. She had been reading for probably six hours straight and hadn’t once checked to see what time it was…

  “Just give me a moment.”

  She turned back to the pile of books in front of her. Veltar had delivered the research just as he promised, and it was just as fascinating as she could have hoped. She was thoroughly surprised how far along some of these Balorite scholars had gotten in their research—it was, in fact, a bit suspicious. She had told the senator it might take months or years to get him what he wanted, but at a glance it seemed like she may have woefully overestimated. Some of these people had been literally weeks or even days away from a final breakthrough, and then they had abruptly and mysteriously stopped.

  Her own inquiries were a pale shadow by comparison. She had really only posited a very basic theory: that there was a means by which a skilled mage could circumvent the Flensing. Rather than drawing upon her own life energy to touch the Fane, the mage could form a similar type of bond with any living thing—plant, animal, human—and use its energy instead. It was almost like creating a temporary Siphon where the connection could easily be severed at any time. Conventional wisdom said that it was impossible, of course, but then, she had already disproven several other so-called “laws” in her years at the academy. This would be no different.

  Because according to all of this, she had been right. Except she wasn’t anywhere close to the first person to think about it.

  It raised hundreds of questions, some of which she almost feared the answer to. How had this knowledge been kept a secret for so long? Some of these papers were centuries old. Had anyone actually succeeded before? Had their results been buried by the Academy Magisters? What about magi from other nations?

  Tryss had never been one for vast conspiracy theories. Many of her colleagues at the academy had loved to posit colorful scenarios about the nature of the rich and powerful, but they were rarely practical. They always relied upon a super-human level of coordination and unity that no government or organization actually possessed.

  But right now she would love to see what her colleagues would come up with if they had this information sitting in front of them. Suddenly all their wild speculations didn’t seem quite so ridiculous…

  She let out a long, slow breath and pushed the matter aside. For now, it was probably best to focus on something else for a little while. And when she thought about it, she really was ravenous. She hadn’t eaten anything aside from a few pieces of fruit at breakfast.

  She closed the books and walked over to the door. Lepton was still standing outside when she opened it.

  “I took the liberty of laying out some clothes for you,” he told her, “though I would suggest getting dressed quickly.”

  She frowned as she shut the door behind her. “Dressed? For dinner?”

  “Your mother has several important guests over, if you recall,” he said with just a hint of reproof. “Your fiancé is among them.”

  Tryss sighed and started walking down the stairs. She had placed all the research inside her personal study, which was a flight of stairs and two locked doors away from her bedroom. She had a similar arrangement within the Royal Palace back in Sandratha. It was a great way to sequester herself from everyone else, but she always managed to lose track of time. Or, in this case, completely forget they were having yet another formal dinner.

  She hustled down to her bedroom and glanced to the outfits he had selected. They were all on the elegant side, which meant half of them she had never even worn before. She settled on a bluish gray gown that seemed to cover everything and started to put it on.

  “I have a nice pair of shoes to go with that,” Lepton said as he politely faced the other direction.

  “Fantastic,” she muttered. “I’m not bothering with makeup, so don’t even ask.”

  He might have actually chuckled, but it was hard to tell. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  The dress fit well enough and she glanced at herself in the mirror. She was too lanky for anything to really look good on her, but at least it let her feign some measure of grace. Lepton dropped a pair of shoes in front of her and she looked down.

  “You know I can’t walk in those things.”

  He smiled. “You don’t have to walk. You have to sit and look majestic.”

  “Zandrast’s blood,” she hissed as she stepped into them. Aside from how wobbly they were, she didn’t like how they made her even taller. She was supposed to be a Darenthi princess, not a Vakari battle maiden.

  “Definitely get the cursing out of your system before we eat.”

  She waved a hand in annoyance. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  As it turned out, “several important guests” turned out to be three dozen people covering the entire dining hall. She recognized most of them from the previous evening, but Veltar, she noted wryly, was not among them. All of these people were either loyal Edehans or at least fence-sitters who the Empress hoped to eventually sway.

  Tryss made it about halfway to the table before her mother intercepted her.

  “So glad you could make it, dear,” the older woman said.

  “I aim to please,” Tryss murmured. “Where’s Aston, anyway?”

  “President Caldwell said he would be late. Perhaps you two have more in common than you thought.”

  Tryss snorted. “Did you need something?”

  The Empress glanced around the room and nodded towards an open corner next to a towering statue of some ancient Darenthi warrior. Once they reached it her face immediately hardened. “I saw you talking with Senator Veltar last night.”

  Tryss’s stomach sank. “You told me to mingle.”

  “Don’t be tart with me, girl,” her mother hissed. “He’s a very dangerous man.”

  “So you’ve told me many times.”

  The Empress locked eyes with her. “What did he want?”

  Tryss shrugged and did her best not to panic. “He just wanted to wish me well and asked some questions about my future plans.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Yes,” Tryss lied. This was exactly where she didn’t want to be, face-to-face with someone a thousand times more skilled at reading people than she was. She had to assume her mother would see right through her…

  “You must be careful with him,” the Empress said softly. “I have no doubt he will try to organize a resistance to the treaty signing. I’m hoping it won’t become violent, but it is a possibility.”

  “He seemed more ambitious than desperate.”

  Her mother grunted. “I think he’s working with your brother. That makes him desperate enough.”

  Tryss frowned. “Working with? How?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, sweeping her eyes around the dining hall. “Not yet, anyway. But whatever they are up to, you and I both need to be wary. Take extra care of yourself until the celebration.”

  “That almost sounds like concern.”

  The Empress sighed and cocked her head. “You know I care about you, Tryss. But we are standing at a pivotal moment of history, and we can’t afford any mistakes. I just want to be careful.” Her gray eyes intensified. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Veltar tried to turn you against me. He’s an opportunist more than anything. Don’t believe anything he tells you, and if Kastrius attempts to make contact with you, let me know.”

  Tryss nodded. She hoped her guilt didn’t show, but she tried to tell herself that she hadn’t committed to anything yet. All Veltar had done is give her some books and notes, and all s
he had done was read them. She hadn’t made any final decisions, and she certainly hadn’t betrayed anyone.

  But it didn’t stop her from feeling like she had, regardless.

  “I will,” she said.

  The Empress studied her for a moment more before nodding. “Good. Now let’s speak with the others. There’s an Arkadian dignitary here I’d like you to meet.”

  Tryss repressed a sigh and nodded instead. “After you.”

  The night was just as long and painful as she imagined it would be, and by the time she returned to her room she was exhausted. As much as she wanted to delve back into the Balorite research, she knew it was going to have to wait until tomorrow. Aston and his father would be gone for two entire days, and her mother hadn’t planned any more events until the end of the week. She would have plenty of time to study, and perhaps she would even make a discovery. Perhaps she would figure out how to free herself from this mess altogether.

  But if she did, the question remained: was she going to go through with it? Was she going to let Veltar—and possibly her brother—get what they wanted?

  Tryss sighed as she slid under her sheets. Fortunately, it wasn’t a question that needed answering tonight.