She shrugged. “It was the easiest way.” Ash shook his head and chuckled, wishing he could have Camalyn’s speech gift for one day.
They entered the sitting room and closed the door.
Camalyn cocked her head. “Why are you here, Ash?”
Ash cleared his throat. “Let’s have a seat.” He chose a chair that looked more comfortable than the previous one, but he sank so low into the cushion, he thought he’d fall all the way through to the floor. When he was stable, he looked at Camalyn, who appeared comfortable and poised, perched on the edge of an armchair. “I needed to speak with you privately,” he said.
“Why didn’t you come to my house or my office? With that new face, you can go anywhere; no one will recognize you.”
“And I’m enjoying that freedom. But I’d hoped to observe some of your meeting. The servant wouldn’t let me into the ballroom, but I did hear the louder parts through the walls, and then I saw them all leave.” He shook his head slowly, his mouth widening into a smile. “Camalyn, I knew you were doing big things with this group, but I didn’t know how big. I’m impressed.”
Camalyn leaned over, propping her elbows on her knees. “It’s been fun.” Seeing her bright eyes, Ash could imagine the girlish grin under her veil.
“I’m sure it has. But with that many people, is there any way to keep your meetings secret?”
“Oh, the elders know all about the meetings; I’m sure they’ve sent spies to join us. In their eyes we’re already damned to Kovus for taking off our veils each week. And in mixed company, to make it worse!” Camalyn laughed when Ash’s eyebrows raised at this bit of information. “They know all about the prophecy too. But they can’t do anything to stop us, and they certainly aren’t going to publicize what’s happening. It reflects badly on them. They hope the movement will die a quiet death.”
Ash laughed. “They’re in for a nasty surprise.”
Camalyn joined in the laughter, then leaned forward. “What did you want to talk about?”
Ash didn’t answer immediately. Watching Camalyn, he tried to predict how she’d react to his words. He took a deep breath. “Do you trust Konner?”
Camalyn’s brow furrowed, and she looked off to the side before returning her gaze to Ash. “I trust that he’s smart and he’s savvy.”
“That’s a very careful answer.” When Camalyn didn’t elaborate, Ash asked, “Are there any ways you don’t trust him?”
“He keeps his cards close to his chest,” Camalyn said slowly. “I don’t trust him to tell us everything we’d like to know. And I don’t trust him to always do things in the safest way.”
That was the opening Ash had been looking for. “I have the same concerns. And if Konner is this difficult to predict when he’s just a rich bank president, how much worse will it be when he’s the power behind a king?”
“You may be right.” Camalyn stared at Ash. “But you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
Here goes. Ash spoke the words he’d been planning for weeks. “Konner is a brilliant strategist. But I don’t think that means he’ll be a brilliant leader. He’ll just want more power for himself and for Cormina, and we both know he’ll be willing to do terrible things to get that power. Things you and I wouldn’t ever agree with. We can’t let him be in charge of this nation.”
After a long pause, Camalyn asked, “What are you suggesting?”
Ash reached into his coat, then stopped, pulling his hand out empty. “Before I go on, Camalyn, I have to know if you agree with what I’ve said.”
Her voice was quiet, but she didn’t hesitate. “Of course I agree, Ash.”
Ash nodded, pulled the folded paper out of his coat pocket, and handed it to her.
“This is Konner’s writing,” Camalyn said. She brought the page closer to her eyes, examining it. After a minute of reading, her eyes, wide and sober, met Ash’s.
“The people of Cormina will never agree to be led by someone who created weapons like this,” Ash said.
Camalyn surprised him by laughing. “It hasn’t just been him. You’ve been helping him!”
“And Aldin stole the black powder, and now you know about it, and by the time this is all over, plenty of people will have had their hands on it. But it’s not too late for us to change things. With this paper, you and the other gray councillors—not all of them, just the ones you trust—could bring Konner down.”
Camalyn folded the paper. “I think it would work. And then our country can be led by people like you and me instead of people like him.”
Ash smiled. “That’s what Cormina needs.”
Camalyn tucked the note in the pocket of her robe. “It means so much to me that you would trust me with this,” she said. “I won’t let you down.”
They continued to talk, and as Camalyn shared her own concerns about Konner’s behavior, a relief bordering on giddiness filled Ash. He’d hidden his reservations for so long. But Camalyn agreed with all of it, and she would bring in a few councillors she trusted.
After an hour of talking and planning, Ash left. As he walked back toward the Gray House, he pondered one question: If Camalyn had been so quick to turn against Konner, would others be ready to do the same?
Chapter Forty-Three
Much of a midwife’s job is dull, especially the long nights on call. You’ll be so drowsy and bored that you’ll beg Sava to send one of your patients into labor. And then one night it will seem that all the women in the town are having babies at once, and you’ll yearn for one of those long, uneventful nights.
-From Midwifery: A Manual for Practical and Karian Midwives by Ellea Kariana
Tullen’s face contorted into a dramatic grimace, the look he always had when listening to Konner’s housekeeper.
“What’s Veylen screaming about this time?” Tavi asked. When Tullen let out a surprised laugh, she explained, “You had your ‘Veylen face’ on.”
Tullen smirked. “I didn’t know I had a ‘Veylen face.’ She’s berating the cook for cutting the potatoes wrong. Each piece is at least fifty percent larger than it should be.”
“You get all the fun conversations. Nobody’s talking at the Gray House.”
“I envy you.”
They were sitting at a tiny table in a midwife house near Konner’s house, just as they’d done every day in the month since Konner’s party. Pala had convinced the midwives at this house to allow Tavi and Tullen to use a room as a listening post. Tavi called the tiny room a “closet,” but on this particular day, it felt cozy rather than cramped. Maybe it was because the air in the small room was pleasantly warm, despite the cold weather that had blown in that morning.
Even with all their efforts, they’d learned little. Something was in the works, and it would happen soon, but the vagueness of it all was infuriating. Ash in particular seemed hesitant to talk about anything important.
Despite the lack of progress, they tried to have fun. “What are they saying?” Tavi asked with a mischievous grin. As an antidote to boredom, she and Tullen repeated interesting conversations to each other, doing their best to reproduce the various voices.
“I’ve been chopping potatoes for thirty years,” Tullen said in an airy falsetto. “I’d like to think that I know—”
Then he interrupted himself, his voice pitched lower than his normal tone, mimicking Veylen. “You—know—nothing!” he said, and Tavi burst into laughter. Tullen continued. “You don’t—You don’t—” But he was laughing so hard, he couldn’t get the words out.
When he regained his breath, Tullen spoke as the cook again. “Perhaps I should just quit, and you’ll have to cook for Konner!”
“That’s Mr. Burrell to you!” Tullen boomed as Veylen. “And I could cook better in my sleep than you do when you’re awake!”
Tavi dissolved into giggles again.
There was a knock at the door. “We have a laboring mother!” came the cheerful voice of one of the house’s midwives. “Please do keep it down.”
They both acknowledged the request. Several seconds later, when the midwife was likely out of hearing range, Tullen repeated in a high singsong, “Please do keep it down!”
Tavi laughed so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks. She folded her arms over her stomach. “Stop!” she said in between laughs. “Stop! It makes my stomach hurt!” Tullen laughed again, and they lost themselves in merriment, muted behind their hands.
A few minutes later, they regained control of themselves. Tavi wiped away the last few tears from her eyes and turned to Tullen. “I’m not sure I should ask, but what are they saying now?”
“Nothing. Veylen left the kitchen, and the cook cursed under her breath a bit, but it’s quiet now.”
“There’s nothing happening in the Gray House, either.”
They fell silent. Tavi was lost in thought about what the Grays might be planning when Tullen spoke. “I wish things could have been different that day.”
Tavi’s head snapped up. The words had come out of nowhere. “What day?”
“Your birthday.”
Tavi nodded, but she didn’t know how to respond.
Tullen spoke again. “I hate that I hurt you.”
“There was no way to avoid me being hurt that day.” The words surprised her when they came out of her mouth, but they tasted of truth.
After a pause, Tullen asked, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, Tullen.” Tavi let out a deep sigh. “I’m still angry at the injustice of it all. I won’t ever get over that. But I’m tired of being angry at you. So I’m trying not to be. And I don’t blame you anymore. Or at least . . .” She halted, shaking her head.
“At least you’re trying not to?” Tullen asked with a small smile.
Ash’s voice rang in Tavi’s ears. “Let’s all meet in the sitting room,” he said.
Wrey replied, “All right. Do you want me to get the others?”
“I’d appreciate that,” Ash said.
“What are you hearing?” Tullen asked.
Tavi flinched, realizing she’d been staring at a random spot on Tullen’s shirt as she listened. “You need to hear this,” she said. “Ash is gathering the residents of the Gray House for a meeting.”
Tullen nodded and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened them, a focused expression on his face. Soon, all four of the home’s occupants were gathered, and Ash began to speak.
“Our plans are coming together, and it’s time to share them with you. I’ve written everything here. Please review it, but don’t talk out loud about the details. If you have questions, you’re welcome to write them down.”
“Ash, your paranoia never ceases to astound me.” Sella’s caustic tone was unmistakable. “We’re alone here; we can talk.”
“Someone could be listening,” Ash insisted. “Someone with a hearing gift.”
Sella groaned, and Aldin laughed.
Wrey asked, “Can we read what you’ve brought?”
The conversation went silent for a few minutes. Then Wrey’s voice came to Tavi’s ears. “Ash, this . . . this doesn’t sound safe.”
“There’s no way to be perfectly safe,” Ash replied, “but we believe we can complete this without hurting anyone.”
“You really think we can use . . . what you have on this page . . . without hurting anyone?” It was Wrey again, clearly trying to come up with alternate ways to describe whatever she was reading about. Tavi released a loud groan; she was so tired of listening to conversations full of non-information.
“Listen,” Sella said, “this won’t be perfect. Nothing ever goes exactly like it’s planned to. But it’s a solid strategy.”
“We’ll meet our goal,” Aldin said. “That’s what matters, right?”
“It’s not the only thing that matters.” Wrey’s response was quiet.
“Keep reading,” Ash said.
The conversation in the Gray House paused again, and Tavi huffed. “This is so infuriating. What I wouldn’t give to see that paper they’re—”
She stopped talking when Wrey spoke again. “Ash, are you sure we can get it done by then?”
“We have plenty of time.” Ash’s voice held a note of warning.
“But Liberation Day is only two weeks away.”
And with Wrey’s words, the calm of both rooms shattered. Tavi and Tullen both leapt out of their seats, their wide eyes and unbelieving grins mirroring each other. In the sitting room of the Gray House, the shift wasn’t so positive.
“I can’t believe you said that out loud!” Ash cried.
“Calm down, O Mighty King. No one is listening to our conversations!” Sella said.
“You don’t know that!” Ash sounded panicked.
“We also don’t know this house won’t turn into strawberry cake, but until I see pink crumbs, I’m not taking a fork to the walls,” Aldin said.
Tavi and Tullen laughed at that. Sella did too, but then the Gray House went silent. Finally, Ash said in a resigned voice, “Your roles are all on the paper. Read it as many times as you need to; we can’t afford to make mistakes. And I don’t care how ridiculous you think I am; just don’t say anything out loud. All right?”
Everyone assented, and before long, the meeting broke up without any further details disclosed. “I haven’t had a break in a long time,” Tullen said. “I’m going to release my magic.”
“Good idea,” Tavi said. “I’ll take a break after you.”
Tullen’s ears stopped glowing, and he and Tavi both sat. “While things are quiet, can you explain Liberation Day to me?” Tullen asked.
“Sure. All Corminian schoolchildren grow up learning about it. But it’s only celebrated in the city of Savala. How much do you know about Relin the Fierce?”
“We learned about him in the Meadow,” Tullen said, “but we clearly didn’t learn the same things you did. We called him Relin the Rascal.”
Tavi laughed. “Relin the Rascal? Why?”
“He killed a lot of people!”
“He was a warrior, and there was a war.”
Tullen shrugged. “I know. The Meadow doesn’t care much for war. Even the historical kind.”
“That’s probably a good thing. But war was a fact of life back when Relin was alive. You know he lived before Savala and Kari, right?”
Tullen nodded.
Tavi continued. “Back then, Cormina was a tiny kingdom. All around it were territories ruled by warlords. A nearby nation called Sharan wanted to conquer the entire area. Relin convinced all the warlords to join their forces with Cormina’s. But even with all of them fighting together, Sharan’s army still had them outnumbered.
“There were lots of small battles, but the Battle of Savala was the bad one. The Sharanians killed over half the Corminian army. But General Relin wouldn’t give up. He trained a flock of birds to steal food from the Sharanians. Many of the enemy soldiers grew too weak to fight.”
“Wait, thieving birds?” Tullen asked. “That detail sounds highly suspect.”
“Well, it’s how the story goes. Can I finish?” Tullen smirked and nodded. Tavi continued, “In the end, Relin led his forces to victory, after personally slaying the Sharanian king and fifteen of Sharan’s sixteen generals. Then Relin convinced the warlords to make their lands part of Cormina. Sharan didn’t survive as a nation, but Cormina did, and it was stronger than ever.”
“And Liberation Day celebrates Relin winning the Battle of Savala?” Tullen asked.
Tavi nodded.
“Fascinating,” Tullen said. “Like most of history, it’s probably half lies and half exaggeration.” Tavi laughed indignantly, and he gave her a conciliatory smile. “Thanks for tutoring this poor Meadow boy. What do Savalans do to celebrate Liberation Day?”
“We’ll need to ask the locals. I’m sure the midwives can tell us.”
“All right,” Tullen said. “We’ll get more information and see if we can predict how the Grays might take advantage of the day.” He gestured to Tavi’s glowing ears. “St
ill quiet at the Gray House?”
Tavi nodded.
They spent the next two hours chatting about nothing much and listening to still less. Finally, they decided to go home early so they could discuss what they’d learned with the other Golds.
Tavi was usually glad to leave their “closet” and return home. But as they walked out, she realized she didn’t want to leave. She wished she could stay there with Tullen, listening and laughing together in that cramped little room.
Don’t be silly, she told herself. But the feeling only strengthened as they walked along the road, and suddenly she was horrified to feel magic invading her, its warmth and glow shining a spotlight on her desire. She tightened and released her muscles, pushing the magic out as quickly as it had entered.
Tavi thought she’d gotten away with it, until she glanced at Tullen and realized he was watching her, his eyes amused over his scarf. She blushed and kept walking.
Chapter Forty-Four
RELIN: We’ll do what we must. We’re already headed to Kovus; there’s no place in Senniet for men such as us. We have nothing to lose.
-From Relin: A Play in Three Acts by Hestina Arlo
Evitt crouched in the shadows of the council building, away from the gas lamps that lit portions of its perimeter. Rolling wheels and clopping hooves echoed along the street. When the carriage pulled into the open space behind the building, Evitt closed his eyes and held his breath. His magic leapt into his head in a wash of heat and pain. He exhaled with a shudder and walked toward the carriage.
Evitt watched as Konner climbed down from the driver’s bench and began tying the horses to a hitching post. Ash emerged and stood next to the vehicle, holding a large crate covered with a cloth. Beside him, Aldin leaned against the carriage, swinging a black drawstring bag back and forth. When Konner finished his task, they all walked to the back of the building. Evitt followed.
They stood before the building’s back door. It was made of intricately carved wood with a polished brass handle. In awe, Evitt gazed at the large, marble overhang above the door. This building was so elegant, even its backside was fancy.
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