by K. B. Wagers
“Why? They’ve been fighting a running battle with the Shen all this time, haven’t they?”
“Yes,” Caspel said. “However, I think the Farians are so used to fighting the Shen, they don’t know how to react to human fighting tactics—especially mercenary ones.”
“Majesty?”
“Yes, Gita?” I watched Caspel closely to see how he reacted to my Dve speaking up. I wasn’t above admitting when I was wrong about treating the people around me more like members of my crew, but Gita had experience with the Farians and I wasn’t about to let that go unused.
Caspel only turned to my BodyGuard with a surprisingly deferential nod, and she continued.
“Not only do the Farians not know how to respond, they can’t respond. Their moral code prevents them from associating with criminals, so they can’t hire mercenaries of their own to help them fight or understand the tactics.”
I laughed. “How on Pashati are they even allowed to talk to me, then?”
“You are a complicated case, Majesty.” The fact that Caspel could say that without even a hint of a smile only made me laugh harder. “You are the Empress of Indrana. You were born royal, and you are officially recognized as the empress. It may be that they choose to overlook your past in favor of that.” He glanced over his shoulder at Gita, who nodded in agreement.
“That would be my guess: official approval from the Pedalion to ignore the fact that you were a gunrunner for twenty years.”
Rolling my eyes, I snorted before I picked up my chai again. “Religions seem to love nothing so much as a good excuse to break their own rules when it suits them. What do we do, Caspel? The ambassador has been politely harassing Alba about meeting with me, but we both know that meeting with Fasé is likely to throw any plans we make into the bin.”
Caspel’s brown eyes unfocused as he considered the options. Then he looked at me. “I would suggest you go talk to Fasé first, try to get a handle on what’s happening. Did you set a time to meet with Ambassador Notaras?”
“Yes, tomorrow afternoon.”
He nodded. “That will work. See if you can get them to tell you what’s really going on. I trust your gut on this one, Majesty. They’re not being entirely honest, and we need the truth before Indrana can even consider getting involved in another conflict. Though if you’re wanting my opinion, I think we should do all we can to avoid committing to anything until we’re on stable footing.”
“Agreed. All right.” I finished off my drink and set the mug on the edge of my desk as Caspel got to his feet. “I’ll message you as soon as we’re done. Hopefully we’ll have some answers.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turned away to the window as Gita led Caspel to the door, their voices lost to my heartbeat humming in my ears. As I stared out at the gleaming city in front of me, it was all too easy to envision it in flaming ruins. I’d spent most of my life neck-deep in violence, and it seemed like no matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t get clear of it.
“Majesty?”
“This is bad, Gita,” I said without turning to look at her. “I don’t know how I know, I just do.”
“You don’t have to explain it, ma’am. We all trust your gut and we’ll follow wherever you lead.”
I hadn’t been back to my family’s country estate at the base of Mount Rishabha since my showdown with Wilson six months prior. Part of me, the more sane and sensible part, knew that the box he’d drowned me in was gone, as was the pool of blood he’d left behind when I’d cut his throat with a wine stem. Staff had come in and cleaned it up, and no doubt Alba had supervised to make sure it was done right.
However, that wasn’t the part that was in charge as I stepped from the aircar, Emmory and Zin at my sides like a pair of imposing bookends. The part in charge remembered that awful moment when I thought Hao’s dead body lay in front of me and the rush of relief when I saw him take a breath. The part in charge remembered Wilson’s maddened rush at me and the easy way skin and artery split under the razor-sharp edge of a broken wineglass.
“House is clear, Majesty. Two life signs, both Farian, in the library.” Emmory scanned back and forth across the terrain, listening to the chatter from Gita and her team as they made their way in through the back. “Do you want me to have them meet you somewhere else?”
“No, if Fasé is there she has a reason for it. I’ll be fine,” I murmured, and climbed the stairs to the front door.
He gave me the Look, and the whispered “liar” was for my ears only. I smiled at him and reached for the door.
“Let me go first,” Emmory said, and vanished into the house.
We waited what seemed like an eternity but wasn’t more than a handful of minutes before Zin touched a hand to my back. “We can go in, Majesty,” he said, and pulled open the door.
As we stepped into the foyer my panic faded somewhat. The sight of the double staircases arching up past cream-colored columns brought with it memories of running up and down those stairs until someone—usually Mother—yelled at us to stop. The yell had been laced with laughter and we never did stop because Father would distract her, and my sisters and I would be left to our own devices for hours.
The summer estate was a rare slice of happiness, and we stopped going after Father’s death. I hadn’t set foot in it until Wilson.
“Are you okay?” Zin’s voice was low, his hand warm on my back through the black uniform shirt I’d changed into before we left the hotel.
I nodded wordlessly and continued down the hall, my heart pounding in my chest. The last time I’d seen Fasé, I’d been more than a little cold to her, but now I knew I was going to have to put my feelings aside and do what was right for the empire. Whatever was coming at us, I’d much rather Fasé be at my side than on the opposite side of whatever field I was going to end up fighting on.
Taking a deep breath did almost nothing for my nerves, but I ignored my shaking hands and nodded to Emmory when he pushed the door open.
The floor was spotless, but I knew exactly where Wilson had fallen, clutching at the wound on his neck and staring at me in disbelief. I knew where Hao had lain and where I had collapsed when Emmory and Zin rushed into the room.
Fasé stood by the wide window, the mountain bathed in the late-afternoon light behind her. Her hands were clasped at her lower back, and an unknown Farian stood beside her in an identical pose. She was dressed in a white top that hung to her knees with white leggings underneath. The sleeves stretched down past her knuckles, almost obscuring her hands, making the whole outfit look a bit like clothing she’d stolen from someone much larger than her. Given the circumstances, I wasn’t entirely sure that assumption was wrong.
“Star of Indrana.” Fasé turned and went down on a knee, her head bowed. The woman at her side followed her.
“Welcome back.” It surprised me to realize I meant it. The universe felt like an engine with the last piece of a rebuild slipped into place. She was where she was supposed to be.
“It was time for me to come back. This is my jailer.” Now Fasé lifted her head and an impish grin split her face. “Or rather, my former jailer.”
“Get up.” I held a hand out and helped her to her feet. Fasé’s hand was cool in mine, and a faint humming worked its way up my arm when our skin made contact.
“This is Sybil. She’s on our side but I’ve told her to keep her hands covered.”
“Your Imperial Majesty, it is a great pleasure to meet you.” The slender woman was a third of a meter taller than Fasé, with long red hair cascading over one shoulder and eyes such a pale silver they were almost clear. She had stayed where she was when Fasé moved forward, probably because Emmory still had a hand on his gun.
“Fasé said you are her jailer?”
“I was tasked with Fasé’s reeducation and penance.” A slight smile fluttered over Sybil’s face. “The Pedalion has”—she searched for a word—“misjudged matters concerning the gods’ will for Fasé. I suppose they wi
ll call me a heretic, or the first convert to the unexpected future-seer, depending on who wins.”
“Wins?”
“The civil war, Your Majesty.”
A cold weight settled into my stomach.
“We will speak on it more later.” Fasé slipped her arm through mine. “If it is all right with you, I would have Sybil and the others wait outside. Emmory can stay.” She smiled. “Because I know he will anyway. I have some things to tell you. They will not be easy to hear but they are necessary.”
I shared a look with Emmory and found myself nodding.
“Sybil, go with Zin. Behave yourself. It will make everyone less anxious, and while I have complete faith in the empress’s BodyGuards, I would hate to lose you now.” Fasé smiled and I noticed how much she’d changed since I’d seen her last. There was something sure and solid about her presence.
“Yes, Mardis.”
“So,” I said. “Itegas Notaras—”
“Itegas, is it?” Fasé laughed, following me toward the fireplace. “Listen to you, sounding like a proper Farian, speaking about a member of the Pedalion with the right honorific and everything.”
12
Bugger me, what?” I jerked to a stop, and Fasé dodged to the side to avoid colliding with me. “Colonel Dio called her that. I just thought it was another Farian word for ambassador. She’s a member of the Pedalion?”
“She’s the one who came to see you?”
“She is still here.” I stared at Fasé in shock. “She said she was an ambassador and that the Pedalion wanted to speak with me.”
“Huh.” Fasé pursed her lips. “That changes things somewhat. Your Majesty, I realize this may put you in a somewhat difficult position, but I would like to request political asylum for myself and Sybil.”
“Fasé, you know I can’t just grant that. I have to run it through the councils.”
“That’s perfectly fine. I just need the process started before Adora realizes I’m on Pashati.”
“You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” She smiled and lifted one shoulder. “But it’s not any trouble that’s not already on the way, and you know I’m an advantage you want in your corner.”
She was right. My personal feelings for Fasé were a tangled mass of affection, guilt, and anger, but I knew without a doubt from a tactician’s standpoint that she could mean the difference between winning a fight and going down hard.
“Zin, have Sybil fill out a request for political asylum for herself and Fasé, please.” I issued the order over the com link.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you,” I said to Fasé, pointing at one of the chairs by the massive fireplace. “Sit and start talking.”
Fasé settled into a chair, pulling her legs up underneath her and leaning on the arm. “The future-seers of the Council of Eyes do not share the things they see without good cause. They know that to even breathe of a possibility can have impact on the outcome. So they do so only when not speaking of it is worse than speaking of it.”
“Like when they told the Pedalion not to wipe out humanity?”
Fasé smiled and looked down at her lap for a moment. “Yes, Majesty. Those futures are told to the Pedalion, but the Council of Eyes still makes an effort to not share the details, only the idea of it. From there the Pedalion takes over. Farians are told of these outcomes from birth, taught them in our schools. One of them deals with Indrana, and it is the reason your empire was sought out to be our ally long before any of the other human collectives were considered.” She sighed and lifted a slender shoulder before dropping it back down. “This may end in fire no matter what we do, but I and others are committed to the preservation of a balance in the universe.”
“And the Pedalion isn’t?”
“The Pedalion wants what anyone with power wants, to hold on to that power. The Shen want that power, or they think they do.” Fasé got that faraway look that I knew was her seeing a future none of the rest of us could grasp. “They won’t like what happens if they get it, but that’s a problem for another time.”
“What do you want, Fasé?” I asked.
Fasé gold eyes went soft. “I want my people to be whole again instead of split over a faith that was never meant to divide us. I want an end to this endless war with the Shen. I mean to disband the Pedalion and give Farians the option of not living an endless life.”
“You can’t die?”
“We can’t die, well—” She wiggled a hand. “We die, we come back. That’s the way of it. The only way a Farian can truly die is by petitioning the Pedalion. It is almost unheard-of for them to grant such a thing and they should not have such power. The Pedalion was never meant to be more than a temporary fix to guide us through the loss of our gods. However, they consolidated their power during that tumultuous time and have become a group that is intent on holding us back rather than moving us forward.”
“You’re the fucking prophet,” I blurted, then squeezed my eyes shut. “Sorry.” When I opened them again, Fasé was smiling at me.
“Where did you hear of it?”
“A conversation overheard on Ashva between some Farians. Fasé, are you leading a revolution against the Pedalion?”
She pressed both hands to her mouth, tears in her eyes. “I didn’t dare dream it would reach so far so fast, but Farians are waking up to the truth, and if my message has reached as far as Indrana there is hope for us all.”
“The Farians want me to come visit the Pedalion,” I said. “Is it because of you?”
“I doubt it,” she replied. “It’s probably because of the Shen, though the unrest I’ve caused is no doubt weakening the Pedalion’s ability to manage the war. We’ve been at this for so long, Majesty, and my people are exhausted. We want peace.” She looked down at her lap. “And I want your forgiveness, Majesty. I am so sorry for what I had to do.”
I fisted my hands in my lap at the pain in her voice. I didn’t doubt the strength of it, but my own grief protested her right to feel anything at all when she was the cause.
She wasn’t, ma’am. Wilson set the bomb. I made the choice. Cas’s ghost whispered in my ear words I desperately wanted to deny.
But I couldn’t. They were the truth.
“Cas said I should forgive you,” I whispered with a sad smile. “He left another message for me with his grandmother. She gave it to me a while ago. I don’t know if I can. But I am willing to try.”
Fasé launched herself out of her chair and into my arms with a sob. A thousand tangled feelings went to war in my head, but love won out in the moment and I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tight. I held her until her tears slowed and then let her go, wiping the tears from her face. “I’ve missed you,” I said. “Let’s start over.”
“Thank you, Majesty,” she said, returning to her chair.
“If all I have to do is stay out of this fight between the Shen and the Farians, Fasé, I’m all for it,” I said, ignoring the lump in my chest and steering the conversation back on topic.
She shook her head. “I wish it were that easy, Majesty, but I doubt it will be. There are futures—” She dragged in a breath, the air shaking in her throat. “It is hard to see.”
“You mean false futures?”
Fasé allowed for a small smile and shook her head again. “No. No future is false. No future is true. They’re all just possibilities. The Pedalion’s problem is they’re too focused on the future when they should be looking at the choice. Same for the Shen, though they are less predictable.”
“So they’re both focused on the end result?”
“Yes.” Fasé nodded her head and held up her hand, thumb and forefinger pressed together. “The moment is a thousand times more important than the outcome. It is the choice that defines the outcome. You chose to give your life for this empire, Majesty. Cas chose the same. Two identical choices. Two very different outcomes. See?”
“No, I don’t see. Cas chose to die, Fasé, a
nd maybe it was for me. Although that is hard to bear. I made no such choice.”
“Didn’t Cressen Stone die when you acknowledged who you were, Majesty?”
I jerked in shock and a smile spread across her face.
“You changed the path of this empire when you decided to stay.”
“I didn’t decide. I was dragged home.” I flipped a hand at Emmory.
“You made a choice, Majesty. You may not realize it, but it was there. Would you like to see one of the other options?” She held her hand out, wiggling her fingers at me, and before I could stop myself I laid my palm on top of hers.
I backed straight into the sixth intruder before I had time to remind myself what I-F stood for.
He was hidden by the shadows I was trying to blend into, as still and silent as a ghost. He didn’t make a sound when I spun and drove my right hand into his ribs. The blue shimmer of his personal shield flared and I swore under my breath. It would smother any strike I threw at him, making the damage laughable. But the kinetic technology didn’t extend to his unprotected head, so I swung my left up toward his throat, blade first. He caught my wrist, twisting it back and away from his head.
I matched him in height, and judging by the surprised flaring of his dark eyes, we were nearly equal in strength. We stood locked for a stuttering heartbeat until he drove me back a step. Sophie’s emergency lighting made the silver tattoo on his left cheekbone glow red.
My heart stopped. The Imperial Star—an award of great prestige—was an intricate diamond pattern, the four spikes turned slightly widdershins. But what had my heart starting again and speeding up in panic was the twisted black emblem on his collar. He was an Imperial Tracker.
“Bugger me.”
The curse slipped out before I could stop it—slipped out in the Old Tongue as my shock got the better of me. There was only one reason for a Tracker team to be here. The reason I’d spent the best part of twenty years avoiding anything to do with the Indranan Empire.
Oh, bugger me.
Trackers always worked in pairs, but I couldn’t break eye contact with this one to check for his partner. Instead I eased back a step, my mind racing for a way out of this horrible nightmare.