Her words hit me one after the other, like hammer blows driving nails deeper and deeper. “But you don’t know anything for sure...”
Sirez swallowed. “No. There are many reasons a message may have been delayed. Nothing is running in an ordinary fashion right now. Courier posts are deserted because there’s no scrip to pay for messages. Roads have been wiped out, rivers dammed by landslides. It’s not just Jaliss in chaos.”
But his silence likely meant the worst had happened. I shook my head, shocked into numbness. My father, dead just days before I’d found a way to contact him? It couldn’t be.
“You’re from Cosmal, same as him?” Sirez asked.
I nodded.
“Listen. I want to trust you. And I believe you can earn that. But I have a whole Shard to care for. We will learn Evrain’s fate, I promise. In the meantime, would you consider proving yourself to us? The next time we speak, I’d rather not draw blood from your neck.”
I blinked. Was this what I wanted? I shouldn’t grieve yet. I should learn more while I had the opportunity. But I was still reeling from what she’d said.
“Do you need me to decide now?” I said.
“Unfortunately, we’ve risked a lot to meet you here. I can’t put my people in danger again. But with this spiritist talent of yours... We could make use of you.”
In the corner of the stable, Breeze nickered again, seeming to urge me to say yes. I thought of the boy, beheaded for no reason at all. Even if I didn’t find my father, I could change things. And joining Stormshard didn’t mean giving up hope of locating Mother and Avill, either. Maybe I could use Sharder contacts to get word about them.
“Yes,” I said, raising my chin. “I’d like to join you. Tell me how to prove myself.”
Sirez nodded. “In that case, welcome to your Sharder probation.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Kostan
A smithy turned safehouse
“I NEED TO know who stands with us,” I said. “Who do we trust? The mages?”
Beside me, Vaness sat with arms crossed over her chest. Yesterday afternoon, the ferro mages had left the smithy to send word of my retrieval to the Aurum Trinity. I’d slept in a cot in the back room, oblivious for an afternoon and the following night.
Now, morning had come. The mages had left on another errand before I woke. When I had finally lifted my head from the pillow, only Vaness had greeted me. Now, I reclined on a stack of filthy canvas with my oldest friend, gnawing on old cheese and sipping water that had once been used to quench blades hot from the forge. Though we hid in the shadow of Steelhold, hunkered beneath one of the thousands of roofs visible from the Hold’s walls, we could have been leagues away. The young man who’d grown up inside that fortress was a stranger to me now.
“What makes you assume I’m trustworthy?” Vaness asked.
It was a fair question. I recalled what she’d said on the wall. She’d called me the most brutal among the Scions—the most fit to rule. At the time, I’d taken it as an insult. But maybe she’d recognized a capability I hadn’t realized I possessed. I’d been hard with Ilishian. Commanding. Imperial.
“I know you,” I said. “I always have.”
“Well, you have my loyalty. Always.” She paused, staring at her hands. “We didn’t know if you were alive or dead, Kostan.”
I smirked. “My death would have increased your chances of becoming Empress.”
She shouldered into me affectionately. “Maybe I should just kill you myself, then.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
A faint smile touched her lips.”I’d fail, I’m sure. Aside from the... things that happened between us that time, I’ve always considered you a friend. My only friend, really.”
“Likewise,” I said.
“Anyway, when I thought about you lost in the mountains, I was worried sick. The Ministry is desperate to kill us. No doubt they sent hunters onto the trails once they figured out you’d left through the Chasm Gate.”
Guilt squirmed in my gut. Before the earthquake, Evrain’s band would have had no trouble dealing with a few imperial hunters. But abandoned with no mounts and Falla’s broken arm...
I brushed away the thought. I’d have time to regret my actions later, maybe even to make amends. Right now, we needed to deal with the Ministry. I needed to restore the throne. Otherwise, the Sharders’ lives were forfeit anyway.
“During our escape, Ilishian spoke as if the Ministry was behind the plot. Have you confirmed that?”
Vaness looked at me with puzzlement that quickly vanished. “I keep forgetting that no one has explained things yet. Yes. It was the Ministry’s plan. Minister Brevt is the leader. Apparently, he used the ministers’ fear of our forthcoming Ascension to pull them into his plot. None of them want to choose exile or death at such a young age. The ministers are using the Breaking as an excuse, saying that the astrologer’s proclamation was in error and that the land is angry about it. The palace geognosts are with them, only because they spot the opportunity to improve their standing. Atal elite are split. No elite family wants to start over in the influence game after a mere three decades under a chosen emperor. But for all that, they respect tradition. Regardless, I don’t think you can trust any elites. Not for certain.”
So many people stood against me. The Ministry. Most of the mages. Without a doubt, anyone who reported directly to a minister would be loyal to the usurpers. It only made sense.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Then who is on our side?”
“The aurums. In secret, of course. They’re our only allies inside the Hold. Well, I’m sure some of the staff might choose to follow you.”
“That’s it?”
She shrugged. “There’s the astrologers. They’ve always been on the side of Ascension. That’s how we contacted the aurums—the astrologers have been communicating with the Trinity via messages carried by hawks.”
“What about the protectors?”
“We don’t know. It’s—it depends I suppose.”
My brows drew together. “Depends on what?”
“The guardians taught us the protectors were bound to the Emperor’s will. I always assumed they took a vow. A figurative binding, I guess.”
“And? What’s the real story?”
“They wear wrist cuffs similar to our ankle bands. Spirit magic, not bodily, though. The argent mages use the cuffs to steal their free will, basically. If a protector receives an order they believe comes from the Emperor, they follow no matter what.”
“But how do they determine whether it’s the Emperor’s word?”
“Usually, the Emperor communicates through the Ministry. Decrees get passed down through the ranks. If we could convince the Prime, I think we’d have the whole Order on our side. But she’s locked inside Steelhold. Ilishian thinks the Ministry will be able to hide the Emperor’s death for a long time. People are used to having Tovmeil’s orders filtered through the ministers.”
I tapped my finger on my knee. “You just said the Aurum Trinity is inside the Hold. Could they talk to the Prime Protector?”
“It would be the Trinity’s word against the ministers. For all I know, the silver cuffs allow the argent mages to influence the protectors long after the binding of their will.”
Vaness didn’t sound optimistic about our chances, but I couldn’t let her mood affect me. A few hours ago, I’d had no one on my side. Now, I had something to focus on. I needed to figure out how to prove my Ascension to the Prime Protector. With the protectors and aurums fighting together, not even the joined forces of the argent and ferro mages could defend the Ministry.
“It’s a good start,” I said. “So, did you and the mages come up with a plan for using our strengths?”
“Well...” She tapped her foot on the ground, almost guiltily. “Until this morning, we were focused on discovering whether you were dead or alive. And if you still lived, we wanted to keep your heart bea
ting.”
Something in her words sparked a thought, and I laid a hand on the amulet hanging from my neck. My heart still worked, but what about the Heart of the Empire? According to Emperor Tovmeil, the diviners had never figured out its purpose, but according to the rituals of Ascension, the Emperor must wear it. Why?
I sighed. Another in the long list of things I had to figure out.
“Thanks for explaining everything, Vaness,” I said as I stood.
Vaness sat up straight when I started tugging my boots over my feet. “Where are you going?” she said, a look of faint alarm on her face.
“I want to give Fishel and Savra my thanks in person. Plus, I need to understand the state of the city before making a plan to retake my throne.”
A hurt look crossed her face when I mentioned my friends at the Graybranch. I wanted to reassure her, but there was nothing I could say. I wouldn’t forsake the people who’d been so kind because of Vaness’s jealousy.
“It’s not safe,” she said, eyes pleading. “We just found you, Kostan.”
“Hey, shouldn’t you be calling me Emperor Kostan now,” I teased, hoping to turn the conversation to something light.
She cocked her head. “Actually, I meant to ask... What name will you choose for your official reign?”
I hadn’t thought about it since the morning Evrain had asked what name I would take as Emperor. “Actually,” I said, “as long as I’m kicking tradition in the ribs by Ascending two years early, I think I’ll just keep my name.”
She smiled, though a little sadly. “I like it. Emperor Kostan.”
I drew myself up. “All glory in his name.”
“I mean it, though. You shouldn’t put yourself in danger. Especially not now.”
“You said the assassins had been taken care of, right?”
“That particular trio, yes.”
“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“But there will be more.”
I knew she’d just keep arguing if I remained there. “My mind’s made up,” I said, as gently as I could before turning for the door.
“Kostan,” she said, “the girl in the Graybranch is a Prov. They hate everything about the Emperor. Please remember that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Nodding, I lifted the bar and pushed out the door.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Savra
Outside the Hall of Registry
THIS SHOULDN’T BE too difficult. It was hardly different from my original plan. Only now, I was working for Stormshard—or hoping to, anyway. As I followed the winding street toward the Hall of Registry, satchel tucked tight against my ribs, I kept my eyes straight ahead.
The Sharders needed information. I had a ledger assigning me a Function which would make getting that information easy. As long as I didn’t attract the attention of an argent who could read my thoughts, I had nothing to worry about.
All day, the criers had been calling out orders from the Emperor. All citizens of Jaliss were supposed to return to their assigned Functions. The streets were once again full with women pushing delivery carts and couriers crisscrossing the city. Within shops, wheelwrights pounded the iron rims on wagon wheels, and farriers nailed horseshoes to mules’ hooves.
But the mood was sullen. Angry. When a man carrying a sack of grain bumped my shoulder, he didn’t even bother to look up, much less apologize. Within a currency exchange stall, a clerk rolled and unrolled a sheet of paper scrawled with rates for trade. No one waited in line, no doubt because no one had coin to exchange.
Uphill, the homes of the elite were shut tight, guardsmen on their sweeping marble stairs. But even those elegant manors presented shabby faces where the quake had cracked their stonework, spilling rubble onto the slate-block streets. Hardly anyone was working to clean up the mess—apparently there weren’t enough masons and repair Functions to handle the damage.
In the Merchant’s Quarter, a path had been cleared through the jumbled cobblestones, the rubble piled on either side. It made the going easier, but only allowed single-file passage. Over and over, I met Atal merchants coming from the other direction. Each time, they glanced at my Provincial features and kept plodding forward. My choices were to be shoved aside or to clamber off the trail before that happened. I got out of their way.
As I balanced atop a pile of stacked stones, waiting for a pair of grocers to pass with their baskets of root vegetables, my inner awareness tingled. Sometimes my aura-sight prickled this way. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was being watched.
I’d belted on my small knife with the mother-of-pearl handle. Nodding at the grocers to distract from the motion, I slid my hand to the sheath.
Someone moved at the edge of my vision. Bursting into action, I scrambled away and yanked out the knife. The blade wasn’t much longer than my finger; it looked pathetic held before me.
Parveld smirked as he glanced at it. “Marks for wariness in noticing my approach, but I doubt you’d do much harm with that.”
I lowered the blade but didn’t sheathe it. “Are people watching me through the bracelet?”
The man sighed, then gestured to a small teahouse. The doors were open, and fire flared inside where a large cauldron hung over the heat. “Will you give me a few moments?”
“I have an errand. It’s too late already.” That was true. I’d planned to go in the morning, but had followed Fishel’s advice and waited until after midday to leave for the Hall. The lazy heat of afternoon calmed tempers if only because it made people too tired to fight. But I worried that if I didn’t get to the Hall soon, I’d find the doors closed.
“Lilik was so certain she’d do a better job than me,” he said with a bittersweet twist to his lips. “Seems she hasn’t had tremendous success… No, no one is watching you, at least not in the way you think.”
I stepped back onto the path. Once again, heat trickled from the bracelet. “I don’t have time for riddles.”
Parveld slid down the slope of rubble, one arm windmilling to keep his balance. Apparently, he wasn’t giving up easily this time.
“I’ll escort you to the Hall,” he said.
“How did you know where I was heading?”
“Because I’m terrible about minding my own business when I care about someone’s well being. I pulled your destination from your thoughts. I’m sorry.”
“Another spiritist ability?”
“More or less,” he said. He gestured for me to go first. After a moment, I sighed and strode forward. I was almost positive Parveld meant me no harm. But regardless of what he believed about me and my so-called destiny, I wouldn’t change my plan to find my father—and to unseat Emperor Tovmeil.
“I suspect the Emperor is already dead,” he said softly. “So at least that’s accomplished.”
I stopped in my tracks and whirled on him. Despite my frustration, I kept my voice low. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. But I don’t like you listening in on my thoughts.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry you’re so worried about your father. I don’t listen on purpose, but I’ll work harder to block your thoughts.”
“Good.”
“But there’s one other thing I want to say about your plans. Be careful with Stormshard. They have noble intents, but you’re too important to die for a renegade cause. I’ve seen that outcome. I couldn’t bear to watch it come to pass.”
I didn’t want to die for a renegade cause either, but I was already cautious. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I shrugged.
“You mentioned someone named Lilik. Who is she?”
“She’s—it’s complicated. I’m not sure you’d believe me.” He pressed his lips together. “Listen, Savra. I wanted to thank you for the trust you’ve bestowed so far. All my talk of warnings and destiny surely makes you uncomfortable. And it isn’t fair to you. I realize that. Knowledge is a difficult burden.”
Inhaling to colle
ct myself, I met the man’s eyes. “I must be honest. I don’t know whether to believe you. Even so, I have listened to your warnings. But right now, I need to focus on my visit to the registrars.”
He ducked a slight bow and took a step back. “I understand. And in truth, I worry that involving myself too much right now will upset fate. But please be cautious. You must live through the coming horrors. The world will need you afterward.”
With that, he stepped off the trail to let me proceed alone.
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
He glanced at my bracelet. “And to answer your question, Lilik is my best friend. She and her husband had their spirits imprisoned in that bracelet after their deaths.”
I blinked. “But why?”
“To help you save the world,” Parveld said.
***
The registry clerk flattened the ledger against the desk. Despite having been stowed in the scroll case, the parchment bore stains and wrinkles earned on the journey. An intricate stamp decorated the parchment’s corner, the official seal of the Empire. Just four lines were written on the paper, each with a name inked upon it. I hadn’t expected to be affected, but when I saw the names of the other young people from Numintown, a wave of homesickness sloshed over me.
What were they doing now? On the ledger, their Functions were listed as sluicers. If the fire in Numintown hadn’t destroyed the town, they were probably working the sluices now. I wondered if they ever thought about me, wondered how my life had changed.
More likely, they’d forgotten me already.
Beside my name was the altered assignment Havialo had commissioned from the forger. I hadn’t seen the work before—again I cursed myself for trusting Havialo so easily. But the lettering seemed passable. I wasn’t sure how the forger had erased the other ink, and I didn’t want to look suspicious by staring too closely.
The clerk examined the paper intently. I could only assume she was considering my entry. After a moment, she glanced at me.
Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1) Page 24