by John Bierce
Alustin went perfectly still, then slowly looked back up at them, fixing his glasses once more. He didn’t even look remotely tired now.
“What did you just say?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“You just told us you were looking for the lost city of Ithos,” Hugh said, sounding confused.
Sabae felt confused herself. Had she really never wondered where Imperial Ithos was? The most powerful city in the history of the continent? The center of an empire that had ruled almost the entire continent, and that the continent was still named after?
She honestly didn’t think she had.
Hugh’s spellbook seemed… relieved somehow.
“Hugh,” Alustin said in a very quiet voice, “please ask your spellbook if it did something to break the Exile Splinter’s hold on your memories.”
Hugh gave Alustin a slightly nervous look, but turned and stared at the book intently. After staring intently at it for a time, he turned back towards Alustin and shook his head.
“My spellbook doesn’t seem to have any idea what an Exile Splinter is, and that it didn’t do anything. It did send me what feel like memories of you telling us all this before, and it being really confused about why we kept forgetting it,” Hugh said.
Alustin didn’t react for a moment, and then grabbed a book off his desk and threw it at the wall. Hard.
The apprentices all stared at Alustin in shock as he began pacing around the room, muttering frantically to himself and clutching his head.
Eventually, Alustin seemed to gain control of himself again.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I thought we had more time, but it seems Imperial Ithos is going to be returning sooner than we thought, if you’re starting to remember conversations about it. Normally you can only remember if you’ve got some way to block the Exile Splinter’s power, as Kanderon did for me, and even that doesn’t do much more than let you know it exists and what its purpose is. The damn thing is powerful enough that it even purged every map of Ithos’ location, and any clues to Ithos’ location in nearly every book on the planet.”
Something seemed to occur to Hugh.
“Nearly every book?” he asked. “What about that book you got from Indris?”
Alustin gave Hugh an appraising look. “There were a small number of books that, for whatever reason, were in different universes or were otherwise shielded from the Exile Splinter when it was activated. Grain Shipments to the Imperial City of Ithos, the Year 378 After Its Founding was one of those books. Kanderon had been trying to retrieve it from Indris for most of a century, but it didn’t become urgent until recently, when the Exile Splinter began failing. Before, when you read one of the books that escaped its influence, its information just slipped out of your mind. As it started failing, though…”
“You were able to start actually reading the books,” Talia said.
Alustin nodded. “We already had three others, and the one we got from Indris has gotten us closer than almost anyone to figuring out the city’s former location.”
“Almost anyone?” Sabae asked.
Alustin scowled. “Imperial Havath is at least as close to finding it as we are.”
Sabae decided not to comment on that. She still wasn’t entirely sure why, but Havath was an extremely sensitive topic to Alustin.
The paper mage shook his head. “I need to alert Kanderon to this development immediately. I’m going to have to answer any more questions you have at a later point.”
He sat back down at his desk and began writing.
Hugh, Talia, and Godrick all stood up to go, but Sabae stayed seated. They gave her uncertain looks, but she gestured at them to go.
Then she just waited.
Alustin was usually uncannily observant, but he actually jumped a little in surprise when he looked up and saw Sabae was still there after he finished writing the letter.
“Sabae, I’m sorry, but…” Alustin started.
“We’re not done yet,” Sabae said, her voice absolutely flat.
Alustin blinked, then seemed to really focus on her, rather than everything else on his mind.
“You have questions you’d rather the others not hear,” Alustin said.
“Observations, mostly,” Sabae replied.
Alustin seemed to consider that for a moment, then gestured for her to continue. He folded his hands in front of him as she began to talk.
“It seems interesting to me that all the councilors that Kanderon left behind were either her enemies, traitors, or politically unreliable,” Sabae said.
Alustin said nothing, his face entirely expressionless.
“All of Loarna’s wards seemed designed to lead Bakori and his imps through sections of the mountain filled with members of her rival councilors’ factions,” Sabae said. “And so far as I can tell, no one else seems to know about them, and we wouldn’t even know if Hugh hadn’t figured it out during a very, very narrow window of opportunity after they activated— presumably by Bakori breaking out of the labyrinth— and before they faded away. I also feel quite confident that it wouldn’t take very much digging to find that Loarna has ties of some sort to Kanderon, or at least the Library.”
Alustin said nothing.
“I think there’s a reason why so few apprentices and students died,” Sabae said. “For all your claims that Kanderon doesn’t care overly much about human life, she has an obvious soft spot for the young, and I think she arranged for as few of them to die when Bakori broke out of the labyrinth as was possible.”
Alustin said nothing.
“I think that your most recent mission might have taken you on a path quite close to a certain sleeping elemental’s home caldera, just a short time before it mysteriously started waking up,” Sabae said.
Alustin said nothing.
“I have a lot of doubts about whether this was the least bloody way of baiting Bakori out of the labyrinth Kanderon had available to her,” Sabae said.
Alustin said nothing.
“I think that this outcome, or one like it, with her enemies and unreliables on the council either dead or discredited, was exactly what Kanderon was aiming for. She knew what everyone wanted— Bakori, her fellow councilors, even us apprentices— and she used that knowledge to manipulate all of us. She was cleaning house— not just of Bakori, but of any resistance to her dominance of Skyhold.”
Alustin said nothing.
“This was a coup,” Sabae said. “I’ve been convinced of it for a while, but until just now, I had no idea why Kanderon would launch a coup like this. It seemed completely illogical to me. But now…”
The silence hung thick in the room.
“Now, it makes sense,” Sabae said. “Kanderon wanted to make sure her affairs in Skyhold were all in order before Imperial Ithos returned, so that she didn’t have to worry about threats within and without.”
Alustin said nothing, just carefully stood up and picked up his letter to Kanderon. He slowly walked around his desk. As he passed Sabae, the blue tattoo around his arm flared into existence, and he pulled something out of midair, and set it down on the desk in front of Sabae.
It was a deck of cards.
Sabae turned around to watch Alustin as he walked towards the door of his office. The chalkboard walls, the crowded bookshelves, and the dozing origami golem on top of one shelf… they all seemed out of place for a moment, as though they were just window dressing. As though the excitable, learning obsessed scholar; the dashing, confident spy; and the deadly battlemage were all just costumes Alustin wore. For a moment, Alustin just looked… sad. Lonely. As though he bore a weight on his shoulders that was crushing him.
Sabae spoke up one more time, just before Alustin left the room.
“What is it?” she said. “What’s in Imperial Ithos that has everyone so up in arms?”
Alustin turned back to look at her. For a moment she could have sworn she saw something like fear in his eyes.
Then he slipped out of the room and was gone.
Anders Vel Siraf shifted nervously on the blue crystal platform, trying not to look at the figure at Kanderon Crux’s feet.
Not that looking at Kanderon’s baleful gaze was much better.
“I never meant any harm,” Anders insisted. “I never sold any truly sensitive information.”
Kanderon shifted forward slightly, and Anders tensed. He looked around desperately, but there was nobody down here in the depths of the Grand Library save for himself, Kanderon, and…
“I don’t especially care how you rate the severity of your betrayal, Anders,” Kanderon said. “I care that you did it at all. Count yourself lucky that you’re alive at all right now. As far as you’re concerned, Anders, you’re my devoted servant now. You vote how I want you to vote, and you leap when I say jump. You’ll keep selling secrets, but you’re going to be selling whatever I want my enemies to hear from now on, Anders.”
Anders opened his mouth, then closed it again when he couldn’t find anything to say.
“If you hadn’t kept the children alive during the battle in the council chamber,” Kanderon said, “You’d already be sharing our friend here’s punishment for fleeing and failing in his duty as a vault guardian. If you ever disappoint me again, Anders, you will end up sharing his fate. You can’t escape me and you can’t defy me. All you can do is obey me.”
Kanderon reached out with her paw and delicately picked up the bound figure off the floor of her aether crystal platform. He was wrapped in bonds made of more of Kanderon’s aether crystal, engraved with spellforms that made Anders queasy to look at.
Kanderon smiled at Anders with closed lips as Rutliss shouted incoherently through his gag.
Then she opened her mouth the rest of the way, revealing her massive, man-sized fangs.
She leaned forward and bit down.
Rutliss’ incoherent shouting ended instantly, and Anders shut his eyes, doing his best to ignore the horrible chewing noises.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Breathing Room
Talia, Godrick, and Sabae were walking up to Hugh’s hidden room when Avah came out, her eyes red from crying. She stormed directly past them, not saying anything.
They glanced at each other, then rushed to get behind the repaired bookshelf and through the door.
Hugh was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was pretty obvious that he’d been crying as well. His spellbook was sitting next to him, gently nudging his side.
“Avah just dumped me,” Hugh said.
Talia stepped towards Hugh, her first instinct to hug him, then stopped. The other two were looking at her oddly, as though unsure what she’d do next.
Talia strode over to Hugh, gave him a quick hug, then turned and walked out the door.
It didn’t take her long to track down Avah.
The Radhan girl glared at her.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Are you here to mock how useless I am? Gloat about how you knew I wasn’t good enough for Hugh? Or are you here to punish me for hurting him?”
Talia just stared at Avah, trying to think of what to say.
Avah burst out crying again, then hugged Talia out of nowhere. Talia awkwardly patted the taller girl on the back as she wept.
That sarcastic little part of Talia’s brain, the one that always had to needle at her in vulnerable moments, made a crack about how Avah was, by any reasonable standard, still really short. She was only tall in comparison to Talia.
Talia dismissed the thought easily. That was hardly the worst thing her mind could throw at her.
“I’m sorry,” Avah said, once she’d calmed down a little. “You saved my life, and I just said all those awful things to you, and…”
Avah pulled away from Talia, and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
A nasty, jealous little part of Talia gloated about how Avah wasn’t so pretty right now, but Talia shoved that thought aside too.
“Do you know why I broke up with Hugh?” Avah asked.
“Because… he lied to you about the investigation?” Talia ventured. “Because he risked his life in the labyrinth?”
Avah shook her head. “I was mad about both of those things, but I honestly get why he did them. No, I broke up with him because I was afraid.”
Talia gave her a confused look.
“Back in Theras Tel, I was terrified,” Avah said. “We’d just gotten caught up in this terrifying situation that made absolutely no sense, and the four of you were all just… so confident, so capable, and I just got dragged along in your wake.”
Avah sniffled, and wiped her nose on her sleeve again.
“When it was over, though, I thought it was over,” Avah said. “That it was just some freak, uncontrollable occurrence. Then I found those files in Hugh’s room, and everything started going sideways again, and I realized that this is part of your lives. Part of Hugh’s life. He’s going to keep getting drawn into these situations— he’s even going to seek them out. I’m not brave like you, Talia. I can’t do this. I can’t deal with the fear and the danger and the uncertainty.”
Tears were starting to well up in Avah’s eyes again.
“Hugh’s a wonderful person, and he deserves someone braver than me,” Avah said. “I’m just a merchant girl who got a crush on a boy just because he was a great mage. He deserves someone like you.”
Talia opened her mouth to argue, but Avah shook her head. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Talia. It’s obvious to everyone but Hugh how jealous you were of me, and how much you disliked me. How much you were convinced that I would hurt him. And look, you were right. You, though— you’re fearless, you’re loyal, and you’re a terrifyingly powerful mage. You’re perfect for him.”
Talia shook her head and laughed bitterly.
“I’m not fearless,” she said. “I’m constantly afraid that someone’s going to realize how insecure I am about nearly everything. About my height, my tattoos, the way my hair is constantly being difficult, and the way I always feel like everyone’s running circles around me. The only thing I’m really good at is destroying things.”
Avah started to speak, but it was Talia’s turn to cut her off. “I don’t mind that about myself. I’m good at it, and I like the fact that I’m good at it. I killed someone for the first time when I was just a girl— another clan was dumb enough to raid us, and I got one of the raiders with a rusty old spear I’d found behind the woodpile from behind. She never even knew who killed her. I had a few nightmares afterwards, sure— I’m not broken inside or anything— but I was ultimately fine with what I did. I’ve got no problem with being good in battle, Avah. But sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I’m good at, like it’s the only worthwhile thing about me, and I start lying and acting like it’s the only thing I really care about. Not just to the outside world, but to myself.”
Talia could feel her eyes watering a little, and she surreptitiously wiped the corners of her eyes.
“I’m terrified to talk about my emotions even with my friends, to be vulnerable with them, and to be honest with them, Avah. You, though… you’re open with your feelings like it’s nothing, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. I wasn’t jealous of you because of Hugh, I was jealous of you because you’re confident and brilliant and not a giant ball of insecurity like me, and you just walked into our little group of friends like it was nothing.”
Talia wasn’t exactly sure how, but Avah was hugging her again, crying onto her shoulder, and Talia was crying into her tunic, and some apprentice walked by staring at them, and Talia shot a few dreamfire bolts near his feet to encourage him to move along and stop staring at them, but doing it carefully so Avah didn’t notice that she was doing it.
Eventually, both of them stopped crying, and started wiping away their tears.
Talia, rather than use her school uniform, used a bit of cloth she kept on her for cleaning off her knives if they needed it.
“You were definitely a little jealous of me dating Hugh, though,” A
vah said.
“I don’t know,” Talia said. “Sometimes I think I like Hugh like that, and sometimes I think I’m just feeling protective of him and getting that confused for… liking him, and sometimes I have no idea what I think and I go and cause lots and lots of explosions and fires.”
Avah giggled a little at that.
“I always thought I’d fall for some invincible warrior,” Talia said. “Some invulnerable mage that was an immovable object to my unstoppable force. And Hugh might be my best friend in the world, but he’s far from invulnerable, if you know what I mean.”
Avah grinned, a little sadly. “He’s brilliant, brave, and loyal, but if someone he cares about shows him the slightest bit of disapproval, he turns into a kicked puppy.”
Talia nodded at that. “Pretty much. Not that I blame him, considering how rough he’s had it much of his life.”
Neither said anything for a while after that. Finally, Talia broke the silence. “I should probably get back to the others,” she said. “They probably think I’m disposing of your body right now.”
Avah laughed at that. They hugged one more time, and the Radhan girl turned to head towards the docks.
“Hey, Avah,” Talia called.
Avah stopped and looked back.
“If you tell anyone I have emotions and insecurities, I’ll blow up your family’s ship,” Talia said.
Avah laughed at that, but there was an uncertain note to it.
Talia turned to head back to Hugh’s lair, feeling like she could breathe a little easier.
“No, Hugh’s a complete mess right now,” Godrick said. “Yeh can hardly mention sandships without him mopin’ about Avah.”
Artur sighed as he chopped vegetables. “Poor kid. First breakups are tough. Ah wish it had at least come at a better time.”
“How would yeh know how a breakup feels? Yeh only ever dated Mum,” Godrick teased.
“Ah’m not an idiot,” Artur protested, “Ah’ve had more than enough friends go through breakups ta know what they put yeh through. It’s not exactly hard ta figure out— breakups don’t inspire particularly subtle emotions.”