by Rosie Scott
Altan seemed a little taken aback by Calder's correction, but he nodded. “I respect that. I don't claim to have authority over your armies.”
“Good. We'll get along just fine, then,” Calder replied.
“I have a feeling we could even be friends,” Altan said with a grin. The Sentinel was apparently excited to be in the presence of someone as crude and enthusiastic as he was.
“I thought Calder Cerberius was the king of the underground,” Kirek spoke up for the first time since greeting him, her stare unceasing.
Calder removed the cigarette from his lips and replied, “Calder Cerberius is the king of the underground.”
Kirek's sharp green eyes looked over his attire. “What kind of a king wears the clothes of a sailor?”
“The same kind of king who curses like one,” Calder retorted, smoke blowing through his nostrils with each word. “The best kind.”
“Doesn't matter what he wears, Kirek,” Altan commented. “It matters how he performs.”
“Sounds kinky enough.” Calder popped the cigarette back between his lips.
“He has yet to prove himself to us,” Kirek replied to Altan, ignoring Calder's comment completely. “Let us not count on success until he does.”
Calder frowned with amused disbelief. “I have no need to prove myself to you.”
“Kirek.” Altan's voice was cautious. “Please. Just...don't. He is here to aid us.”
“He is here to aid Kai,” Kirek corrected. With a guarded glance at me, she turned and stalked off toward Monte.
Only once she was out of earshot did Calder finally say, “Someone should tell that poor woman that sticks aren't meant to be stored up the ass.”
Eleven
A stone longhouse sat in the midst of the rolling green grasslands in central Monte, smoke rising out of multiple chimneys on both elongated sides. The skies were still bright with afternoon sunlight as the Seran Renegades headed there with Calder alongside us. For now, none of the Sentinels joined us. Altan and Zephyr understood that Calder was also a great friend of mine, so they left us alone so we could catch up. While Kirek could have been suspicious of our intentions, she said nothing of it. Her open hostility bothered me. I was unused to it from anyone other than my foes. I hoped to find the time and place to talk with her and try to settle our differences, but even if I figured out when to approach her, I doubted it would go well. Kirek had never been one for conversation.
As soon as we entered the longhouse, the temperature became considerably warmer even though it had only been slightly chilly outside. Fire crackled from multiple hearths, casting the entire inside of the building with orange light. Chandeliers holding numerous candles hung low from a peaked ceiling, only adding to the warm glow. A wooden table stretched from the entrance of the building to the other side and was hugged by two long benches. A cooking spit was in the center of the opposite wall, surrounded by many unopened kegs of dwarven ale.
Azazel headed to the cooking spit to immediately start roasting a boar he'd hunted earlier for dinner. As he loaded the meat onto the spit, Nyx filled heavy metal mugs with ale nearby. The others conversed with gusto at the table. I smiled as I heard Holter chatting Calder's ear off about how much he admired us for the underground takeover.
I didn't join my other friends just yet. I walked up to Azazel's side, resting my head against his arm as he quietly watched the meat cook. I read him well, just as he could read me. I knew Calder's sudden reappearance bothered him. Azazel had calmed since leaving the underground, and a lot of that had to do with being away from the man who'd caused him so much misfortune. I hoped that Calder's presence wouldn't bring back all of the anger and bitterness Azazel had been able to leave behind underground.
“Thank you for hunting and cooking,” I offered as we watched the meat cook together.
“It's my job,” Azazel replied, though he reached up and held my arm with a hand as if appreciating my presence.
“That doesn't keep me from appreciating it,” I retorted lightly.
“Go be with the others, Kai,” Azazel said softly, dropping his hand from my arm.
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.” Despite Azazel's words, I didn't yet move. One of the wooden benches scraped over the stone floor, and then boot steps clunked up behind us. The air suddenly smelled of ferris. I finally pulled away from my friend to find Calder standing nearby, his red eyes taking note of the situation and Azazel's continued refusal to look over.
“Azazel.” Calder's gaze didn't falter as the archer finally turned to face him. Azazel exhaled evenly through flared nostrils as he waited for further words. “It's amazing what a few years can do, isn't it? All you ever wanted was freedom and friendship. Now, here you are with both. And somehow you managed to weasel your way to the top of Kai's little hierarchy.”
Azazel's jaw stiffened. “Are you insulting me?”
Calder sobered. “No. I'm happy for you. It couldn't have happened to a better man. You both have been through hell in Eteri. I can tell just by looking at the two of you that a lot happened to bring you together like this. You used to be jealous of Kai and me, Azazel, but now I find that I envy you.”
Azazel said nothing, but the guarded expression on his face relaxed.
“You're not happy to see me here,” Calder went on after a moment, shoving both hands in his trouser pockets. “And I get that. I wasn't unfazed to see you, either. In a lot of ways, I consider you to be my greatest mistake. You remind me of all of the things I still dislike about myself because you have seen the worst of it. Not that that's your fault, mind you. All of the blame falls on me and me alone. I apologize profusely for the way I treated you.”
“In Quellden?” Azazel asked.
“In Quellden. In Hazarmaveth. In every place I ever was while you were still in chains due to my callousness. For every misfortune my decisions ever brought to you, I am sorry.”
Azazel's gaze softened. “I accept your apology,” he said, “and I thank you for making it.”
Calder smiled, appearing overwhelmingly relieved. “It is long overdue.” Though I had told Azazel years ago that Calder wanted to apologize, he'd never gotten a chance to himself. He hadn't known Azazel was with us since leaving Quellden, so for almost seven years, he'd probably had regrets.
“You've grown,” Azazel finally said.
“Have I?” Calder chuckled. “Can you inform the others? They never believe me when I try to convince them of that.”
“Have you had trouble leading the underground?” Azazel asked.
“Not a bit,” Calder replied, “but you know how I am. I make friends and enemies. Not much in-between.”
“Forgive me for saying this,” Azazel began, “but as happy as I am to hear your apology and see you follow through by aiding us here, I'm angry with you for not replying to Kai's letter. She's been worried sick for years that you would not show.”
Calder's thin black eyebrows dipped toward each other, and he snapped his gaze to me. “Kai, I did reply to you. I sent my response just a fortnight after getting your letter. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that.”
Azazel and I exchanged glances. “You two need to start talking,” the archer said.
“I'm not leaving you out of the conversation,” I protested. When Azazel only replied by swirling a finger beside his superior ears, I decided he had a point and went to sit down beside Calder.
“Let's start from the beginning, shall we?” Calder mused, pulling the mug of ale Nyx had left for him over the table. “You little bastards left me behind in Quellden in Red Moon of 420. Then what?”
My friends and I filled Calder in on the events of the last seven years, leaving nothing out and only lowering our voices when we needed to relay something confidential. No one in the room couldn't be privy to such information, because we trusted both Calder and Holter to keep any secrets safe. So much had happened over the years that the story lasted us a
ll the way through dinner. By the time we caught up to the present day, our picked over plates were cold before us on the table.
“I got your letter,” Calder started, when my own story had been told. “The messenger said he could only wait a day. I had to talk with my court and figure out what things to write back to you. I didn't want to put intel in my letter if there was a chance of Eteri using it against you. You expressed that your alliance is strained.”
“With the queen, yes,” I said low.
“In either case, I couldn't send the letter back with your messenger. He left the name of a Sentinel with me to send my response to. By the time I was ready to send you my reply, I had lost the piece of parchment with the name on it and couldn't remember it for the life of me.”
“It was probably Uriel Anemone,” I commented since the messenger had been his.
“Sounds familiar,” Calder admitted. “Never heard of the guy before then, though, so I couldn't remember it. I just sent my own messenger to deliver the letter, and I addressed it to you.”
“Did you send it with your diplomatic request to Tilda?” I questioned.
“Sure did. Addressed that one to her, though.”
“It's all mail headed to Mistral,” I commented, catching Azazel's eyes to make sure he was following.
“What intel did you include with the letter?” Azazel asked Calder.
“Well, to tell you that, I think it might be best and least confusing to just start with the events that happened after you all left.” Calder pointed down to the stone beneath our feet as if he was pointing directly at his home. “Lots has happened underground, and none of you probably have any idea.”
“I hope you didn't have much trouble,” I said with a frown.
“Nothing we couldn't handle.” Calder leaned back on the bench, his red eyes on the chandelier above as he thought back seven years. “So, you all left in 420. Things were calm for a while as we started making new rules for the underground and all that boring busywork. I let the assassin's guilds continue taking contracts from Chairel and Hammerton, but anything political had to be run through my court. I didn't want jobs going through that would affect you. Well, Chairel was apparently under the impression that you were in Eteri years before you actually were, because Hammerton was under the same impression. They were hiring assassins like crazy in Demiz to kill you, Tilda, and the Sentinels in Eteri. I guess they figured that if you had an alliance with Eteri, they would request Hammerton's takeover. As they have.”
“Was Demiz taken by this point?” I asked him. “We didn't take it with you.”
“At first, no. The assassins from Demiz would simply travel to Quellden to move the contract along to the west. Once they arrived there, I'd find out about it and end the contract. But within my first year as king, I finished the little job my sisters started in Hazarmaveth.” Calder raised his eyebrows at Azazel. “The explosives Azazel used to start its takeover were originally supposed to be used to blast through Hazarmaveth's western wall to connect it with Demiz. Obviously, that plan was halted when we waltzed on through. I ordered the wall destroyed in New Moon 421. Hazarmaveth and Demiz are now connected, which means the underground spans across the entire world.” Calder swirled a finger around in the air as if to demonstrate.
“Was Demiz easy to take?” Cerin asked from my right.
“Easiest takeover in history,” Calder replied. “Blasted right through that son of a bitch. Caught them off guard with a bunch of women soldiers on the frontlines. There were a handful of casualties, but once the women found out Quellden was taken, what were they gonna do?” He shrugged.
“So anyway, Hammerton figures they're next on Eteri's shit list,” Calder continued. “Their hatred for you all apparently surpasses their hatred for us, since they were throwing gold at my assassins while handing us intel on a platter in their lust for your deaths. Nobody knew we were allied for a while. I let Hammerton think these contracts were going through so I could keep taking their gold and intel. Well, one very interesting day in late 421, I was informed that a messenger of Terran Sera's tried to hire my assassins in Quellden to hunt down and kill some guy you all might know. Name was...” Calder shrugged dramatically. “Cerin Heliot?”
“Who's that?” Nyx asked sarcastically, playing along.
“Probably some asshole,” Calder jested.
Cerin huffed beside me. “So Terran is stooping to the same underhanded tactics of his father to get to me.”
I remembered the goddess Aleyah telling me that Terran's request was the reason Chairel found out at all about my relationship with the underground. “Aleyah told me this is what compromised us. Your assassins refused the request.”
“Wait...what?” Cerin's voice was confused. The others went quiet, sensing his bewilderment. “You knew of this?”
As Calder said a playful uh-oh to my left, I turned to my lover. “She said Terran's request was refused. It was nothing to worry about.”
Cerin's dark eyebrows raised, and his face clouded with hurt. “Your brother is trying to hire assassins to kill me. Whether the request went through or not, that's something I need to know.”
I swallowed hard as I looked over the confliction on Cerin's face, feeling awful that I'd put it there. My decision not to tell Cerin of Terran's contract hadn't been an active one. There had been so much going on at the time that a failed deal was the least of my concerns. I hadn't tried to keep the information from him; it had merely been forgotten and looked over as time passed. As he stared at me while this upset, however, none of that mattered.
“You are still trying to protect him,” Cerin finally went on when I'd said nothing. “Even after he tried to kill me in the Battle of the Dead, you let him go. And now you'll continue to ignore any attempts he makes because you refuse to believe he's a threat. Why didn't you just make his job easier and let him kill me in Nahara?”
My heart ached with his words. “You know why, Cerin,” I replied, my voice withdrawn and low.
“What happens if Chairel finds out of our presence here in Hammerton and sends their armies to us?” Cerin continued as if I'd said nothing at all. “What happens if Terran shows up craving my death? Just open doors for him, Kai. Let him have at it!”
My nostrils flared. “Terran will not come to Hammerton. His only concern is Sera.”
“So he says,” Cerin retorted. “He may be your brother, but he is also our enemy. Open your eyes!” Cerin's silver eyes were sharp with anger as he looked over the others, who were all awkwardly quiet as they watched us argue. “I mean, am I crazy? Am I the only one who is giving Terran any credit?”
Azazel found my eyes and said, “No, you're not the only one. I have never met your brother, Kai, so I only know the things you've told me. But if Terran is half as smart as you are, he will try to stop our advance as soon as he hears of it. If anything, facing us early on in Hammerton or at the border of Chairel means he will be able to preemptively defend Sera, as you said he wants to do.”
“Thank you,” Cerin breathed.
I was quiet. I knew the points being made were valid. But for now, I was just upset that Cerin was so angry with me. I didn't want to argue with him, particularly in front of the others. Even though our disagreement was over a simple oversight, I felt ashamed and full of guilt for not placing more importance on it.
“Go on, then,” Cerin said impatiently, waving a hand over at Calder. “Terran's still after me since he can be after Kai let him run home to Sera. Then what?”
Calder exhaled heavily, uncomfortable with the hostile air as he tried to get back on track. “Well, my assassins outright refused the contract. If I'd found out about it earlier, I would have told them to accept just so it wasn't suspicious. But the Alderi like you a lot for your hand in the liberation, Cerin, and most of them know you by name. Their refusal was immediate.” He paused. “The assassins never refused contracts before. Particularly from royalty. Terran was offering a great deal of gold. It wasn't surprising when Sera
made the connection and word spread of the underground's dealings with you. All political contracts stopped coming from Chairel soon after that. It took a while for word to make it to Hammerton, so in the meantime, my assassins in Demiz were passing along more intel from the dwarves.
“Apparently, Chairel and Hammerton had plans to take Eteri years ago to remove what they thought would be your greatest ally. Chairel was focusing on distracting the Vhiri with continued naval attacks from Narangar, which would keep Eteri's forces on the eastern coast. Hammerton was then supposed to assault Eteri from the western coast, somewhere north of Mistral. At the same time, as you know, Chairel and Hammerton sent forces to invade Nahara. They didn't anticipate Vhiri reinforcements in T'ahal, and your destruction of Narangar's harbor halted Chairel's ability to aid Hammerton. Around the same time, Chairel gets word from the Icilic fleeing south to Sera that all the extra wood they're exporting to Glacia is being used for a massive naval assault on Eteri. They were wounded, and the Icilic were basically offering to do their job for them. Chairel and Hammerton dropped all plans for Eteri to refocus on Nahara. I guess they knew the Icilic had massive armies because they thought Eteri was a done deal.
“Then came the Great Glacial Flood of 423.” Calder chuckled. “Poor bastards heard about Glacia's destruction and flipped. Went into overdrive. Chairel and Hammerton thought you'd be busy fighting Glacia's armies for years, not that you'd remove the entire fucking continent from existence.” He raised a thin eyebrow at me as if impressed. “Chairel's building of warships ramped up to recover from Narangar. They immediately started gathering a new assault force to invade Nahara. Requested more support from Hammerton. And the best part?” He grinned at me.
“Hammerton said no,” I replied, understanding.