by T. A. White
“It was discovered in a swamp? How is the ground stable enough to support tunnels?” Tate asked.
“That is a question only those who built the tunnels could answer. Their ability far out paces any construction capabilities that we currently have. It’s why studying this is so important. We can unlock secrets long hidden. But, to your question, it was on the edge of the swamp where the ground is slightly more stable.”
“Those lands have been contested for many years,” the Kairi argued. “They were ceded to us as a land dower after our Ippo married the Emperor’s cousin by marriage nearly a century ago.”
“In a move that was not backed up by law. The land was owned by another noble. That woman’s family had no right to cede anything to your kind when they weren’t the legal owners. The courts backed this up.” The man looked at Tate. “We got permission from the rightful owners to dig there.”
“I’m sure they took a nice piece of the find for themselves,” Gabriella sneered.
“Of course,” the man said. “It was his by right.”
“Is this assumed owner here?” Tate asked. She’d like to speak with him if so. He might have a different perspective on all this.
“He has not arrived yet, but he will be here soon,” the man said.
“And what is your name?” Tate disliked referring to him as archaeologist in her head.
“Elijah Griffin.”
“And yours?” Tate asked turning to the Kairi beside her.
“Ithor Aisao.”
Tate thought a moment, taking a bite of her meal to give herself time to think. She still wasn’t sure what was expected of her or how she was supposed to help Jost achieve his mission.
“If Lord Dampier were to determine your people were the owners of the discovery and all it contained, what do you think you would do with it?”
“Why does this matter?”
“It doesn’t right now. I’m just curious.”
Ithor cocked his head, eyeing her suspiciously. “I am not in charge. I cannot speak for my superiors.”
“But if you had to hazard a guess?”
He frowned at her, his face stern. “It is not my place to make such wild speculation.”
Tate fought against her sigh. “And you, Elijah? What does the Academy intend to do with the find?”
“Study it. Share what we’ve found.”
“Only with those who have ties to the Academy. The Academy of Aurelia is well known for hoarding information. If you’re not one of their graduates, the information is kept locked away,” Gabriella said.
“Like the Kairi or the Silva are any better,” Elijah scoffed.
“And the artifacts?” Tate asked. The dangerous artifacts capable of changing the flow of power in the empire.
“They’ll be cataloged and studied.”
“While their benefactors take the most useful of the lot for their own profit,” Gabriella said.
“Why shouldn’t they?” Elijah asked, his voice passionate. “They funded the expedition that led to this discovery. Without them, no one would know about it.”
Or argue about it.
“What would your people do with the find, Gabriella?”
“Bury it and pretend it didn’t exist, most likely,” Elijah said in a snide voice.
Tate ignored the comment.
“We are undecided. If the remains of our ancestors are buried in those tunnels, there would have to be considerable thought and care given to how we proceeded. It is possible we would block off the entrance so they can rest in peace.”
“And ignore any knowledge a discovery like this could impart?” Elijah railed.
She gave him a cool look. “Some knowledge is best left unknown. Such a thing bought at the expense of my ancestors’ peace and dignity is not worth the price I will pay when I face them in death.”
“Fat lot of good a view like that does for the people left behind.”
“I don’t know,” Tate said. “How would you feel if someone went and dug up your parents or your grandparents and just tossed them here and there? I’d be pretty upset myself.”
“The bones they speak of are thousands of years old. I doubt they have any living family left to be upset,” Elijah said.
“Evidently someone still remembers them,” Tate said, raising her eyebrows. “Or the Silva wouldn’t be here.”
“They seek to profit off my work. It’s typical behavior for the predator races,” Elijah said.
“Predator races?” Tate didn’t recognize the term.
“It’s what they call any of the races that were combined with a predator,” Gabriella explained. Her voice making it clear she did not like the term. “Many of my people were modeled off the apex predators.”
“They also used to eat people. Your people didn’t recognize us as anything but clever meat. Thought we were more fun to hunt than animals,” Elijah said.
“Don’t flatter yourself. Humans are clever but also incredibly weak. We face more challenge bringing down a brynkeros than we do a species unable to defend itself.” Gabriella’s smile was nasty. “Besides, the clans haven’t used such a practice in five hundred years.”
Tate filed that fact away. She had a feeling she would want to examine that information in more detail later. Perhaps in a place where she couldn’t offend the person who might have once thought her a tasty morsel right to their face.
“Moving on from that cheery thought,” Tate said. These people were determined to have it out one way or another. She didn’t see how Jost was going to end this without someone coming to blows. “I don’t understand when you say they will profit. If I’m understanding this correctly, the Silva seek to leave the discovery untouched, taking away any chance for profit.”
Three sets of eyes swung to Tate, varying degrees of surprise in each one. Tate ignored them and took another bite of her food. Gabriella recovered first.
“The witness brings up a good point,” she aimed a victorious smile at Elijah.
He looked dissatisfied at Tate’s observation. “We only have their word that they will seal the discovery. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The Silva’s physical attributes ensure their dominance. The artifacts help humans hold their own against the rest of the predator races.”
“So, you’re more interested in the potential weapons this discovery has uncovered.” Tate kept her expression politely interested as she made the statement.
There was a choked sound from Gabriella that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Tate peeked at her out of the side of her eye. Gabriella’s expression was carefully bland. Ithor on her other side also seemed interested in Elijah’s response.
Elijah sputtered, “That’s not— you’re twisting my words. That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh? What did you mean?”
Elijah’s glare should have made Tate feel bad. It didn’t. She took a sip of her drink and raised one eyebrow at him.
“I only meant that even if they bury what’s been discovered they still profit from such an action in the end.”
“Hmm.” That might have been part of it, but Tate rather suspected she’d been right in her first assessment. She decided to move the conversation along, not wanting to create an enemy so early in the evening. She wasn’t sure how hard Jost would want her to push. “Have there been discoveries of this nature before?”
She was relieved when the server came and took her plate, replacing it with a cup that had a perfectly round ball in it. Tate watched her neighbors as they used a tiny spoon to crack the white ball and then scoop out the insides.
Tate mimicked them, the liquid on her spoon a dark raspberry red. She tasted it tentatively and almost moaned aloud as the flavor burst in her mouth.
What was this? She’d never tasted anything like it. She wanted more. She had a feeling she had discovered her new favorite food. Something to add to the short list of things she liked. A list she kept track of mentally as she ran across anything that sparked her interest. It had become sort of an
obsession to find out her likes and dislikes. She never again wanted to be in a position where she couldn’t answer what her favorite food or color or season was.
“How can you say that?” Ithor asked, his voice making it clear he found whatever had been said objectionable. He was doing that superior than thou thing that the Kairi were capable of doing with their voices. The one that made you feel about as mentally tall as a snail. It was the tone of voice that Daiske reserved for when she failed with magic. It usually made her defensive which led to her mouth running away from her.
Tate had missed what set off the voice. Too consumed with the splendor that was her dessert.
“Humans always think they are the center of everything,” Gabriella said. “They’re like our young, asking ‘why can’t I’ over and over again, when the answer is obvious to everyone else.”
“Only the blind follow blindly,” Elijah fired back.
“And only a fool runs into a tsunami,” Ithor said.
Tate fought the urge to groan. These guys were destroying her joy of the dessert. It was hard to savor it with them bickering like little children, each convinced in their own inherent superiority. She wondered if it was always like this or if the promise of the discovery was making things worse.
She was grateful when the server came to take their dishes because it meant that dinner was almost over.
Jost stood. “I’ve prepared refreshments in the study for all who’d like them.”
Tate fought to keep from banging her head against the table. Why couldn’t this be over? She didn’t want to listen to another hour of this.
Dewdrop gave her a cocky grin, knowing exactly how much she wanted to be anywhere but here. She gave him a watered-down version of her death stare. She couldn’t do the full thing for fear that Elijah would see and think it was directed at him. She didn’t need him taking offense for something so minor.
No, if he was going to take offense it was going to be given intentionally. Perhaps with her boot or fist to help the message go down.
At least the change of scenery would allow her to escape the argumentative trio.
They rose and followed the crowd down the hall to another room. Tate was surprised to see most of those who’d attended the dinner chose to follow Jost. A few from each of the factions stayed behind or wandered off, including Ithor and Ronald.
Tate was happy to see that by ‘refreshments’ Jost really meant liquor. The stuff they’d served at dinner was far from what Tate was used to, sour and slightly bitter. Everyone else at the table had made murmurs of satisfaction. Not Tate. Give her a good ale any day over whatever that was.
She made her way to the little bar that had been set up in the corner of the room.
“What would the madam like?” the man standing behind the bar asked. He was dressed in the same outfit as the servers only without the apron.
Tate looked at the decanters in front of her. None of them looked like ale. She didn’t see any barrels of the drink behind him either. With that out, she had no idea what to order.
“You should try the Telave,” Gabriela said from behind her. “It has a nice bite without any of the bitterness of the Janere that was served at dinner.”
“How do you know I found the Janere bitter?”
Gabriela shrugged, the movement graceful. “You made a face every time you took a sip and you left most of it in the glass. Don’t worry. Most find it bitter at first. It grows on you after a while.”
“Some things are not meant to be grown.”
Gabriela threw her head back and laughed, the sound drawing notice from several of the other guests.
Tate eyed her with a sour expression. So glad someone found her amusing. It’s what she aspired to in life. Really.
“You’ll have to get used to it if you attend many dinners in company such as this. It’s a common drink among the upper class in much of the empire’s territories.”
Then Tate would make it a point to avoid all such events in the future.
To the bartender she said, “I’ll try the Telave.”
“Me as well,” Gabriela said.
They waited as the man selected a decanter that was a circular globe with a long spout at the top. It was filled with a bluish green liquid, making Tate wish she had known what the Telave looked like before deciding to try it. Judging by the color it was either going to be really good or really bad.
Feeling the need to fill the awkward silence, Tate turned to Gabriela. “What is your role in the proceedings?”
It would help if she could get an idea of why each person had been chosen to attend. She understood why the faction leaders were here, but what about everyone else? How much influence did each individual have on the leaders, and by extension, the talks? Until Tate knew that, she was feeling her way blind over treacherous ground.
“A relatively minor one,” Gabriela said, accepting the drink from the bartender.
Tate took hers and sipped at it, nearly coughing at the slight burn as the liquid went down. It set a fire in her belly. The taste was like spring. Light and airy with just a small bite to teach you respect. Tate liked it. Gabriela was right. It was a nice contrast to the Janere.
“Oh?” she said.
Gabriela shot her a glance out of the corner of her eye, the wry twist of her lips letting Tate know she was on to her.
“I’m in the protection detail.”
Tate looked from Gabriela to where Tala was talking animatedly to one of the academics.
Gabriela smirked at the thoughts evident in that glance. “It’s not always in your charge’s best interest to stick too close. You can’t see the threats clearly when you’re right next to them.”
“You also can’t act quickly enough when you’re too far away,” Tate said in a bland voice.
It seemed every thought she had tonight was said in a bland voice. Not insulting anyone was hard work. Almost as hard as the consequences that came with insulting everyone.
“True. That’s why there are more than one of us guarding our doyenne.” Gabriela nodded to several Silva Tate hadn’t paid attention to until now. They rotated around Tala as if she was their sun. Each alert to both their charge’s movements and that of the rest of the room. Gabriela then pointed Tate’s attention to several others. Each Silva kept an eye on Tala while also paying attention to their surroundings.
It was many layers of protection designed to trick the average observer into assuming Tala’s protection was weak.
Gabriella and Tate circled the room together. Now that Tate had realized the significance of the placement of many of the Silva, she noticed a similar placement of Kairi surrounding one of their older members, a man whose hair was nearly white, though his face remained unlined.
They were a little more obvious than the Silva. Two men hovered around the man, frowning at anyone who ventured too close. There was a second ring of protection around them, the additional guards creating an empty space that none dared trespass on. The man appeared content with his isolation, examining the room with his ageless gaze.
“That’s Shodon Yakani. He’s head of the fourth noble family. Once upon a time, when the Kairi still existed as their own kingdom, he would have been fourth in line for their throne. Most people just use his title, the Shodon, to refer to him. It’s considered an insult to use his name without express permission from him.” Gabriella sneered in distaste. “And nobody receives that permission.”
Shodon Yakani’s eyes met Tate’s, as if he’d heard what Gabriella had said. He lifted a hand and the man at his side bent down to listen to him. They conferred and then the guard straightened and walked toward Tate.
She drew to a stop and put a polite expression on her face, mentally telling herself she was not going to start a fight no matter what came out of this guy’s mouth.
The man gave Tate a half brow, the gesture surprising her. “The Shodon requests the honor of an audience.”
Gabriella made a choked sound next to her, something b
etween a gasp and a snarl. The man in front of her didn’t react, keeping his black eyes trained on Tate. It was hard to tell his age, something that was the case with all Kairi since they lived longer lives than humans, but Tate would guess he wasn’t young. He had an air of competence and confidence.
His clothes were of the same quality as the rest of the Kairi but considerably less ornate and much easier to move in.
“Of course,” Tate said once she could find her voice again.
The man held his hand out to her. She eyed it for a moment, long enough that there was a slight shift in the man’s face. Enough to let her know that he’d be insulted if she refused to take the hand offered to her.
With a strained smile, she accepted, letting him lead her to the white-haired man that she was already calling Snowflake in her mind.
They passed the outer circle of protection just fine. There was a snarl and a grunt behind her. Tate turned to see another Kairi standing in front of Gabriella, staring her down.
“Only the Dragon-Ridden was invited,” he told Gabriella.
“I would think a stuffy Kairi would know it’s rude to appropriate someone’s companion when they’re in the middle of a conversation,” Gabriella said.
“She does have a point,” Tate said, wanting to see what they would do.
“She will get over it,” her guide said. “She has no doubt suffered far greater grievances in the course of one dinner with her own people.”
There was a sound of disagreement from Gabriella.
“And if I said I wanted her to come?” Tate asked.
The man looked at the Shodon, asking silently for guidance.
Tate peered over at the Shodon. “I thought the purpose of this mediation was for all of you to talk through your differences. You can’t do that if you’re sitting over here in a corner by yourself.”
The man’s eyes looked like the night if someone had stolen the stars, an inky darkness at the bottom of a long hole. There was the faintest ring of ice blue around the edge that Tate had come to realize was a sign of nobility. The other Kairis eyes were full black with no hint of white or blue. Tate found the effect unsettling.
His solemn face turned to the guard and he gave one small nod.