by Vela Roth
“Institutions of learning are the cradles of innovation that benefit all people for generations to come. You have every reason to take pride in this project—and devote the entirety of your considerable ability to it.”
“I certainly will, beginning tomorrow, when my duties resume.”
“In the meantime, you naturally chose to make the most of your free night by standing atop the Observatory for hours. Without a blanket or someone to share the view. Nor even a cup of coffee. What youthful delight.”
Lio considered making some remark about how every Hesperine enjoyed taking in this view of the city now and then. But such dissimulations were painfully fruitless at this point. Despite his best efforts, he found himself on the defensive. “I helped get Zoe settled before I came up here, and I shall return in time to be with her while she is awake from the Dawn Slumber.”
“I am not here to give you the impression you are lax in your responsibilities. Only to excuse you from mine.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Uncle Argyros came to stand beside him and followed his gaze to the Umbrals. “It is my duty as the Queens’ Master Ambassador to keep this vigil. Whether I am called to do so tonight or not is for me to judge. Go back down, Lio. Dust the snow off the gymnasium with Mak and Lyros or enjoy a night on the docks with Kia and Nodora.”
“Mak and Lyros are at the gymnasium? I thought the entire Stand would accompany the Queens to check the border’s defenses.”
“They finished that hours ago and are now enjoying the holiday like the rest of the family.”
“If I had not come up here, Uncle, would you have?”
Uncle Argyros was silent for a long moment. Lio listened to the absence of sound that meant his uncle was making a decision. The reckoning, it seemed, was about to arrive. His uncle would not be delicate about what the rest of Lio’s friends and family tactfully referred to as his “Tenebran preoccupation.”
“Lio, are you really so discontented with our work together?”
Lio tore his gaze from the mountains, taken aback. “Of course not, Uncle. To become your initiate when I came of age was my greatest honor, and now to work beside you as an ambassador in my own right is a privilege I shall never take for granted. I have desired this all my life.”
“And yet you petition the Queens for entry into a different service on a regular basis.”
Lio’s stock of ready words failed him, and he floundered in silence for a moment. “Those requests were never meant to reach your ears. I—”
“You really thought the Queens would not make me aware of your desire to become an envoy in Basir and Kumeta’s service?”
“I made such a point of petitioning them privately…I assumed they were…sensitive to my intention to…”
“Spare my feelings?” Uncle Argyros arched a brow.
“You know how much our work means to me. Do not think for a moment my…other interests…are any reflection on how I value my position with you. Or on my devotion to our work.” Lio suppressed a wince. Other interests? What pathetic words to describe his cause of finding a way back to Cassia.
“Lio, my feelings are not a concern. Nor is your choice of how to spend your own time. Personal projects are the sign of an active mind and a devoted servant of our people. I would expect no less of you. But it is no longer a project when you hang on every rumor from Tenebra as if your life depends on it.”
Lio’s life did depend on it. On Cassia.
She was his Grace. The one who could nourish him for eternity on her blood alone. The only antidote to the Craving that had been destroying him since the first night they had been apart and his fast from her had begun.
He searched for conciliatory words and found instead the other edge of a diplomat’s tongue, the one that could cut. “Alas, ambassadors assigned to the Empire take an inordinate interest in secondhand gossip about Tenebra. It is an unfortunate side effect of our position, for we do not attend audiences with the envoys who know the facts.”
Oh, he would suffer one of Uncle Argyros’s famous scowls now, along with the icy burn the elder firstblood’s temper made on the Blood Union.
“I have endeavored not to intrude on you,” Uncle Argyros said gently, “but this has grown into an issue you must discuss with me. If you are no longer committed to your choice of path, it is not something to conceal from me.”
“I remain utterly committed to our work.” The work they had begun in Tenebra. Not libraries in the Empire, where everything was peaceful and cozy and oh, so safe.
“You conducted your assignment with the Imperial administrator as adroitly as I knew you would, but can you maintain your course?”
“You are concerned about the quality of my performance?”
“I am concerned that when my youngest ambassador earns the honor of his first audience with the Empress, he will stand before her with his thoughts in Tenebra. Such moments are not kind to divided minds. If that is something I must be prepared to expect, you ought to tell me now.”
Lio felt the powerful urge to lower his gaze. But that would be an admission of error. Of defeat. “I do not anticipate failing you in such a manner.”
“Lio.” Uncle Argyros shook his head. “What am I to do with you? No matter my choice of words, you understand them as a commentary on failure.”
“How else am I to understand them?”
“If all the efforts of the famous Silvertongue have been insufficient to make that clear by now, I have no answer for you. What can I say? I remember when you would have poured all of your enthusiasm into this assignment.”
“We have plenty of other ambassadors more qualified to represent us in the Empire. For centuries, all your initiates have been assigned there because our treaties with the Empress and her many peoples are our lifeblood—and relations with Tenebra had broken down altogether. But last year King Lucis reopened negotiations with us. That is my work.”
“At one time, you would have leapt on a project that brings together your service, magic and craft. You would have relished showing the administrator the windows you have crafted, your contribution to the arts our people have nurtured in the face of persecution. Our time in Tenebra changed you.”
“Of course it changed me. How could it not? For the first time in my existence, I saw real suffering. I witnessed a man’s death. I played a role in the death of another. I may not have killed Dalos with my own hands, but all of us who were there are responsible for his end. How could I take part in a duel with a Cordian war mage and not be changed?”
“These are real concerns, Lio. We have all borne them, and we know they are heavy. You should share them with your father and me more often. None of us should have to navigate such struggles on our own.”
His uncle’s sympathy only added fuel to his frustration. They thought they understood. He kept letting them believe that, citing all the experiences that had indeed left a mark on him in Tenebra, while he never breathed a word about the one person who had transformed him.
“I take no less pride in Orthros’s achievements than I ever did, Uncle. But I take greater pride in the lives I helped save in Tenebra than in the glass I have crafted. You must forgive me if I fail to see the importance of reading lamps when Tenebra suffers under a tyrant king and the Mage Orders of Cordium persecute Hesperines.”
Here Lio stood in Orthros, where all Hesperines came for refuge. For nearly sixteen hundred years, this had been the place where they could escape Tenebra and leave all their troubles on the mortals’ side of the border. But Lio carried Cassia’s troubles with him, and his Craving for her knew no boundaries. This once-beloved, familiar place held onto him so tightly he could scarcely move. Peace had become a tether he chafed against.
“You have done your part in Tenebra,” Uncle Argyros said. “In fact, you went far beyond your duty.”
“It was not enough. Nothing would have been enough, save the king’s oath not to make war.”
“Lio, we all wish our embas
sy to Tenebra had been a success. For as long as we could, we held out hope we could secure peace with the renewal of the Equinox Oath. But tonight, the answer to your question is no. Had I not come to find you, I would not have set foot on the Observatory. I know not to look for the Beacon. The situation in Tenebra, I am sorry to say, no longer calls for diplomats. Much as I am loath to admit it, we must leave it in the hands of our warriors. Even I must resign myself to the fact that my work is done, and my Grace’s work begins, Goddess keep her.”
He was worried for his Grace? Hippolyta, the Guardian of Orthros, the greatest warrior in Hesperine history? “How am I expected to do that, when my—when I am already so deeply invested in Tenebra’s plight?”
“That is not your duty, any more than it is mine, now. Only envoys and those in the Prince’s Charge have the Queens’ permission to remain Abroad in Tenebra. Here at home, we must trust your aunt to keep us prepared to assist those who arrive at the border seeking safety behind the ward. She tells me you are making rapid progress in your training in the gymnasium. Given enough decades, you may eventually catch up to Mak and Lyros. Apply yourself to that, if you feel you must do something for the war effort.” Emotion flickered in Uncle Argyros’s eyes. “Although I always thought you would remain devoted to the path of peace.”
“You said yourself the situation no longer calls for diplomats.”
“You cannot and will not take up Basir and Kumeta’s work in the field, Lio. To go errant in Orthros Abroad is to begin every night expecting you will lay down your life for Hespera. No one as young as you will ever be called upon to make such a sacrifice. You know better than to believe any of us would allow it.”
“I have already risked my life for her, and I will gladly do so again.”
“Your dangerous actions during the Equinox Summit were a matter of necessity. We are as proud of you as we are determined to prevent such a situation from ever arising again.”
“I know.” How well he knew. It was a wonder they let him out of their sight long enough for him to take a drink.
“And yet Tenebra is all you think of, to the detriment of the work you have loved these many years.” Before Lio could utter a defense, Uncle Argyros held up a hand. “To your detriment, Nephew. It is clear you are not happy.”
“I am as happy as any of us could be at a time like this.”
Uncle Argyros was shaking his head again. “If service as an envoy is truly what you desire for yourself, it will be many centuries in coming, and I am not certain the path to prepare yourself for a life of subterfuge bears any resemblance to what you envision. Is such a dramatic change truly what you want?”
Centuries. Lio no longer reckoned time in centuries. Cassia’s life was measured in years, and if her father ever found her out, she would count it in hours until her execution. “No.”
“Then what is it that you want, Nephew? You committed to diplomatic service so early, it would not be unexpected if you had second thoughts. There is no shame in changing your mind, nor in being uncertain of your desires.”
“I know what I want.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
One step nearer to the end of his control, to the precipice he sensed ahead of him. Once he fell, he would lose the last vestiges of his masquerade. Although his veil hid how his hands shook, he clenched them into fists to reassure himself he could still master his own body. But the tremors did not stop, even though he had tried to tame his thirst with the Drink twice already tonight.
He had known it was not enough. Nothing ever was.
He wanted Cassia.
“What, Lio? If you have an answer, tell me, and let us see what we can do about it.”
Lio looked away, past the snow-swaddled streets and moonlit gardens below, to the southern horizon. Wind slammed across the deck again and drove his words out over Selas. “I want to go back to Tenebra.”
Uncle Argyros let out a sigh.
“I see nothing has changed since we were last here.” Basir’s words were audible an instant before he appeared on the deck, Kumeta at his side.
Weddings and War
For the first time, Lio turned his back on the view. He beheld the impossible: two Tenebran soldiers on the Observatory at the heart of Selas. The moonlight glinted off their coats of light mail, and their boots gave off the odor of leather.
Lio blinked, and there stood Basir and Kumeta in their travel robes and Grace braids. The moons shone on their true faces, revealing their ageless dignity and their deep black skin that bespoke their human origins in the Empire.
Lio knew he had just glimpsed only a modest example of the workings they could achieve when they combined their magic. Weaving her illusions and his thelemancy together with the power of the Grace Union, they had mystified Orthros’s enemies for almost eight hundred years.
“Still trying to become our next initiate, Deukalion?” The intervening time had only made Basir’s customary glower more severe.
Although Kumeta was shorter than Lio, she somehow looked down her nose at him. “Still trying to grow out that fuzz on your chin?”
“Yes, I fear I continue my attempts to foist myself on you.” Lio swept a hand over his cheeks and chin. “I think it fair to say this is now long enough to classify as a ‘close-cut beard.’”
“‘Stubble,’ if one is feeling generous. You may have my recommendation for service as an envoy when it is a full beard at least half as long as your father’s, and no sooner.” Kumeta waved a dismissive hand at Lio’s face, but her tone lacked the usual bite.
Basir only sighed, instead of subjecting Lio to the direct remark he might have expected.
For a moment Lio surfaced from his concerns and felt the ache of a weariness not his own, like an old pain that had reawakened. He bit back the torrent of questions he wanted to ask the Master Envoys. It would not be right to berate them with an interrogation. Basir and Kumeta’s bodies were as eternal as every Hesperine’s, but within, they were exhausted. Even the great power and experience their age granted was not enough to protect them from low spirits.
“Tenebra is no place for youngbloods,” Basir said.
Kumeta slid an arm around her Grace’s waist, and they leaned against each other. “No place on the same landmass as Cordium is fit for any Hesperine.”
“I apologize, my friends.” Uncle Argyros spread his hands to indicate the empty deck. “When I asked you to come find Lio and me after your audience with the Queens, I intended to offer you comfortable chairs on my terrace and a pot of the Empress’s coffee. Alas, I have yet to lure my wayward ambassador down from his post.”
Lio’s anger cooled, and he shot his Uncle a look of gratitude. “You set out a cup for me this time?”
“No time for coffee, I’m afraid.” Kumeta sighed.
“Our thanks, Argyros,” Basir said. “But the First Prince expects us. The reports we discuss with him and the Queens tonight cannot be committed to paper or subjected to delays. A swift word with you, and we shall rejoin the Charge in Tenebra.”
Lio suffered now-familiar twinges of frustration. As a light mage and a mind mage, he could befuddle the enemy’s eyes and thoughts. His dual affinity made him a perfect candidate for becoming an envoy. He could do so much in Basir and Kumeta’s service, given the chance.
He could infiltrate Tenebra’s royal palace without stirring a hair on the back of the king’s liegehounds. He had done it before.
Uncle Argyros’s aura mirrored the Master Envoys’ fatigue. “I shall not delay you with pleasantries then, my friends. What can you tell us?”
“Our prince sends his greetings to Deukalion.” Kumeta drew a small roll of paper from the satchel on her shoulder.
The scroll floated out of her hand toward Lio. As soon as the letter came within reach, he caught it midair, then tucked it into his scroll case with his notes on Cassia. He bowed, trying not to betray his eagerness. “Thank you for delivering my letter to him. Please tell him how much I appreciate him ta
king time to reply.”
“You may tell him yourself,” Kumeta said. “We will report to the Queens again tomorrow night, and if you have a reply, we will pick it up then.”
Basir seemed as reluctant now as he had the last time Lio had managed to catch the Master Envoys. Lio preferred not to remember how desperately he had pressed his letter to the prince into their hands and begged them to deliver it.
“Do not let this give you the impression the envoy service is for passing notes,” Basir warned.
“You have my gratitude,” Lio assured them.
“Nonsense.” Kumeta sighed again. “It is only natural for you to stay in contact with your Ritual father. When he is the First Prince of Orthros and deep in enemy territory, it isn’t as if you can send a city courier.”
Uncle Argyros did not comment, but through the Union, Lio could feel the intensity of his uncle’s aura like a second stare. They must all suspect what the contents of Lio’s letter had been. As if Lio’s requests to the Queens for reassignment had not been enough, now he must rub salt in the wound he had dealt his uncle by petitioning the prince. Discretion was yet another effort at which Lio had failed.
But he had his reply. Lio would soon know if the prince agreed to intercede with the Queens on his behalf and favor him for a position in the field. Surely they would reconsider if the First Prince himself asked for Lio to be placed in his Charge.
Basir looked to Uncle Argyros. “You have told him there will be no Beacon?”
“It is my hope he will take it to heart if he hears it from you. You see why I asked the two of you to have a word with him.”
Lio could not keep himself from voicing his protest. “Even though we have seen no Beacon tonight, there is still time for the king’s mind to be changed. Spring Equinox will bring the new year and the renewal of the Equinox Oath.”
“Lay down your hopes, Deukalion,” Basir told him. “You know better. The Oath lapsed nearly four hundred years ago. In the absence of the treaty, we may have held to its tenets and continued the Goddess’s sacred practices in Tenebra, but the mortals consider the treaty broken.”