Sapient Salvation 4: The Claiming (Sapient Salvation Series)

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Sapient Salvation 4: The Claiming (Sapient Salvation Series) Page 10

by Jayne Faith


  “I’m sure you’ll do well in preparing me, my Lord,” I said. “And what do you foresee life to be like after, when the Calistans move from here to Earthenfell? Is there a sequence of steps for that stage, too?”

  “Yes, there are tasks to be done.”

  “What tasks?”

  “I will still be the Lord of Calisto and Earthenfell, so my leadership and figurehead responsibilities will continue. And then there is the requirement that I produce offspring.” He gave me a piercing look, as if something had just dawned on him, that sent my insides fluttering. “I want you to know I have no intention of doing that with anyone but you, in spite of what you may have heard. If you agree to it, of course.”

  Children with Lord Toric . . . I’d heard that upon the Return, the Lord was supposed to mate with all of the active harem women to have Calistan-Earthen children. In the face of so many other trials and obstacles, my worry over that one point had been far down my list of concerns. But since he brought it up, I figured I may as well use it to pursue my inquiry.

  I pressed my lips to his for a sweet, drawn-out moment. “Thank you for that reassurance, my Lord.”

  I let a span of silence pass before I spoke again. “And what of the Earthens who live there now? How will things change for them? My mother is still there.” At least, I dearly hoped she was okay. It had been much too long since her last letter.

  It was all I could do to keep my voice steady and my hands from shaking, for I was truly treading into unknown territory now.

  “Things are going to change for everyone, Maya, that is inevitable.”

  “Changes?”

  “Yes.” He placed his fingers on my cheek. “Maya, I promise I will not let any harm come to you.”

  I barely reacted to his affectionate oath. “I’d like to know more about the changes.”

  “That will be revealed in time.” He dropped his hand, and his eyes narrowed just a hair. “Why are you pressing this?”

  “I . . . I’m anxious, like I said. About what will happen to Earthens. Will Calistans raze their homes? Force them into slavery?”

  He gave me an impatient look. “Don’t you think that’s more than a little farfetched?”

  “Not really,” I said slowly. “After all, you’ve been sacrificing Earthens for many hundreds of years, doing what the sacred texts commanded.”

  “Listen to me,” he said, his voice suddenly urgent. “I have no intention of acting as some sort of blind, genocidal maniac. Please, just trust me.”

  I didn’t press him further, but inside I was worried. Even if Lord Toric refused to carry out a bloody command, I was all too aware that there were many others who believed the sacred texts should be followed to the letter. Either he was hiding details from me, or he truly didn’t know what the rebel mice seemed to believe was true.

  But one thing I knew: so far in the course of Calistan-Earthen history, the weight of sacrifice had been unarguably one-sided.

  The next morning when I returned to the harem quarters, I pondered how to relate what I’d learned to Sytoria. I hadn’t gained much in the way of information, but I had to make her see it was enough, that she owed me something in return . . . all without stating or thinking anything that would trigger my implant.

  I was concentrating so hard, when I entered my room I didn’t realize Kalindi was there, and nearly jumped out of my skin when she spoke.

  “So, you’ve been told,” she said. She’d swiveled around on her vanity stool to face me. “You know of the field mice.”

  I stared at her a moment. There was no point in denying what she said.

  “Yes,” I said. Then, feeling bold, I cocked my head. “Where do you stand? Do you think the field mice should rise up against the flying rats?”

  Her face tightened, and conflicting emotions seemed to pass through her in quick succession. I didn’t know her well enough to read exactly what she was feeling.

  She turned back to her vanity. “It doesn’t matter what I think. The rebellious mice have obviously already decided what they’re going to do.”

  I stared curiously at the back of her golden-blonde head for a few heartbeats. I didn’t understand Kalindi. It wasn’t that she seemed disloyal to her people so much as she seemed to have her own personal aim, and as far as I’d ever been able to discern, all she wanted was to serve Lord Toric. That was her genuine, singular desire in life, even before she’d ever laid eyes on him. And the thing that was so odd to me was that it wasn’t an act.

  My heart seemed to cramp faintly with unexpected sympathy for her. She would never get the thing she wanted most. Even if I didn’t completely understand her, I did understand the sadness in that.

  She seemed to sink into her thoughts, and I made no more attempt at conversation. In what had become my morning routine, I bathed, dressed, and went to the cafeteria for breakfast service. I’d returned to the harem quarters earlier than usual so I could try to find Sytoria, and I arrived just as service was beginning. Neither she nor Clarisse were there yet, so I filled a plate with sausage, fruit, and bread. I went to an empty table, one against the wall near the door where I could watch everyone come in.

  Sytoria swept in on a perfumed cloud with her little entourage. She didn’t turn her eyes my way, yet I had the distinct sense that she was aware of my presence.

  I waited, watching her as well as the other women who filed in. Nearly all of them must have been trained for the Tournament, I realized, thinking back to when I was still on Earthenfell and news of the winners—and sadly, the losers—would reach us. Very few winners were like me—untrained.

  I drew in a sharp breath as a realization hit me like a thunderclap. The clans who trained their Obligates all knew the story of the field mice. Or at least someone in charge of Obligate training in those clans knew it. My clan was one that usually trained the Obligates it sent to the Tournament. It was only because of an unfortunate twist of fate—when our trained Obligate, Belinda, died the day of the Selection—that I ended up in the Tournament. If there’d been time, perhaps someone would have told me the story before I left Earthenfell.

  And what of the other clans, the ones who chose their Obligates by lottery or some other means but did not train them? Did they even know about the field mice? There were only a handful of people on Earthenfell who had implants—just the ones with jobs that received direct orders from Calisto or dealt with the supplies and Obligates that went to Calisto—but the rest . . . they were free to speak without censure because they had no implants.

  I blinked rapidly, thinking of the people in my clan, the leaders in the Earthen community. My neighbors. My mother. How many of them knew?

  I forced my attention back to my immediate surroundings and Sytoria. Her plate had been cleared, but she still sat at her table, sipping coffee and chatting with her friends.

  The breakfast crowd was thinning, and still Clarisse hadn’t appeared, but no one had attempted to join my table. I’d received many sidelong looks, but those had ceased to bother me.

  I waited until only a few small groups of women remained scattered around the room and then rose and went to Sytoria’s table.

  “I’d like a moment of your time,” I said. Her eyes didn’t flick up to my face until I spoke again. “Alone.”

  At first she looked away, back to her friends, and I thought she might try to brush me off. But then her gaze returned to mine and she gave me the slightest of nods.

  Just as before, her friends quietly departed. I sat down next to her.

  “About the Return,” I said.

  She tipped her head, looking at me from under heavy lids, waiting.

  “I know details that you don’t. I’m prepared to offer them in return for your teachings, as we discussed.” I leveled my chin, trying not to feel self-conscious about the intimate nature of the things I wanted her to show me.

  She lowered her voice to a silky whisper. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

  She sipped her coffee in a casual
gesture, but I caught the spark of interest in her eyes. I suppressed my grin. I knew I had her attention.

  “First, swear you’ll teach me about the whips. Swear you’ll show me what to do. What he—he likes.” My words faltered a little as I imagined Sytoria with Lord Toric.

  “I will show you something that is commensurate with what you have to offer me.”

  “Okay,” I said, and drew a breath. “Lord Toric has no intention of carrying out any genocide against Earthens..”

  Her brows raised a fraction of an inch. “That’s it? That’s all you have?”

  I swallowed, my mind whirling. I had to make it seem enough. “It’s more than you knew before.”

  “How do I know you didn’t just make it up?”

  Good question.

  “Because he trusts me. He’s shunning all others for me, even shunning the law and tradition of taking a Calistan wife,” I said, thinking fast. I hurried on, “I will give you more information, but not until I know you’re going to keep your word.”

  Her eyes tightened, and she peered at me with an unblinking stare. It was all I could do to keep still.

  “Fine,” she said. “I will teach you. Come to my room this afternoon.”

  Without another word, she set down her coffee cup, stood, and exited the cafeteria.

  I exhaled a rush of air. Finally, I would learn. I would be able to fulfill Lord Toric’s every desire, and he would never need anyone else.

  7

  Toric

  I SENT A brief note to the Office of Royal Social Affairs, stating that I would not be attending any of the scheduled dates with the handful of women who were still in the running to become Queen.

  I was supposed to be getting to know them, narrowing down the pool to just two women within a week. My refusal to continue with the process of selecting a Calistan wife set off a firestorm of panicked messages from Yauna, the woman in charge of guiding me through the steps that would lead to my marriage on or before my twenty-eighth birthday. I ignored all of them.

  It was perhaps a bit premature to undermine the Office of Royal Social Affairs—I could have waited another week—but the thought of sitting through dates with women I would never care for made me want to rip off my own skin. Refusing the dates gave me such a deep sense of satisfaction and glee I wished I’d found a way to rebel much earlier.

  My mother was livid, of course. Very soon I intended to confront her about everything, including her role in Maya’s kidnapping and poisoning. I was sure now that she’d been the one in the Oracle’s vision, the member of the royal family who’d nearly sabotaged the Return.

  I commanded my guards to keep everyone out of my chambers until further notice. I allowed Victor to come and go as usual, but any other visitors would have to be approved by me.

  In the midst of it all, I took a few minutes to lounge on my balcony and soak up the hot afternoon sun. I slouched in a chair with my feet up on an ottoman. I knew it was indulgent, but I wanted to savor my sense of personal victory for just a moment.

  Even knowing my mother was raging and the Office of Royal Social Affairs was likely in a frenzy, I felt a deep sense of purpose I’d rarely experienced in my life. And through it I felt peace.

  I rattled ice around in my tumbler and then sipped the tangy cold tea, relishing the simple pleasure of a cool drink on a hot day.

  Out of the corner of my eye I caught the motion of Victor’s quiet approach. “My Lord, Prince Jeric is here for you. The guards are holding him in your atrium.”

  I swung my feet to the floor and stood. “Tell the guards to let him in.”

  He bowed and left and a moment later returned with my brother.

  I gave Jeric a broad grin, genuinely happy to see him.

  “You’re in a fine mood,” he said, grinning back.

  I lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “It’s a beautiful day.”

  He laughed at my mild response.

  I refilled my tumbler and poured him one and then beckoned. “I’ve kicked out all the servants, but it’s probably best we go into the secure room.”

  For the tenth time at least, I found myself incredibly grateful that I’d ordered the tiny conference room built within my chambers. Otherwise, Jeric and I would have been forced to go through the palace to the military wing to find a place to talk openly with no threat of eavesdroppers.

  “Mother is climbing the walls,” Jeric said. His eyes sparkled with amusement, but his voice carried tension.

  I felt my mood harden. “I can only imagine. She gets no sympathy from me.”

  “You owe her none,” Jeric said simply.

  I puffed my cheeks and blew out a breath, trying to put my mother out of my mind. “How do things look on your end?” I asked, switching topics.

  “I’ve got people in place, ready for the information about the Queen candidates,” Jeric said. “They don’t know what’s coming or that it’s coming from me, but they know it’ll be big. They’re salivating like hungry tredaks.”

  I felt a small twinge of guilt about our plan. Jeric would be leaking information about the women who were in the running to become my wife. Informants and media contacts would receive proof about the women’s Pirro blood. I still didn’t know whether the women actually knew they carried Pirro DNA and were actively part of some secret plot or if the news would surprise them as well. If it was the latter, I would feel some regret about dispersing the information in such a sensational way. But I had to do something to keep from being forced to take a Calistan wife.

  It was a risk in many ways, but I felt confident that the move would not compromise the future of Calisto. In my heart, I felt sure the Return was very near, perhaps only weeks away. Whether it happened before or after my twenty-eighth birthday—the deadline for taking a Calistan queen—seemed irrelevant in the larger scheme of things. But to me personally, it was everything. If it happened before my birthday, I would avoid marrying a Calistan woman. If it happened after, though, I’d be forced into wedlock.

  I nodded, assured that I could depend on him. “Good work. And what will be your next move? You still haven’t broken off your engagement to Akantha.”

  “It’s all but done at this point,” he said. “We haven’t spoken to each other in many days. I’ll make the official announcement when the time is right.”

  “You’re not worried she’s scheming something?”

  He snorted. “Oh, I know she’s scheming something. But I don’t care.”

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, giving him a sly look. “I don’t suppose you’re ready to reveal the new object of your affections.”

  He tried to suppress a smile, but his eyes lit up. “Nope.”

  “You’re a cruel, cruel man,” I ribbed.

  He tilted his head to one side as if conceding. “What about your next move, Toric?”

  I groaned. “I’m going to have to face mother, for one. Better to get it over with sooner than later, I suppose.”

  He grimaced. “Agreed. And what after that?”

  “Once the miracle commission has finished its investigation, I’m going to marry Maya,” I said, deadpan.

  His mouth dropped open in surprise, and then he chuckled. “Is that so?”

  “Well, I haven’t formally asked her yet. But yes, that’s what I’m intending. Once the miracle commission finds in her favor, I believe the nation will see her as the perfect choice.”

  “You know for a fact they’re going to find in her favor?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think the High Priestess would allow any other outcome.” That wasn’t the whole truth. She might do exactly the opposite when the news about the women’s Pirro blood released.

  His brow creased. “But it’s not completely up to her.”

  “No, that’s true.”

  Jeric was silent for a moment, his gaze cast off to one side as he took a long swallow of tea.

  “What is it?” I finally asked.

  He shook his head. “I jus
t don’t think it’s guaranteed.”

  I shrugged again, unwilling to concede aloud how right he might be. “I guess we’ll see.”

  “I’d better be going,” Jeric said, turning to the door. “I’ll see myself out, and I’ll be in touch soon.”

  I nodded and bid him goodbye.

  I stayed in the tiny room alone for a few minutes, mentally preparing myself for my next task. It was going to be ugly, but it had to be done.

  When I was ready, I left and touched my earpiece. “Camira, have the queen sent to my quarters as soon as she’s able to come. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  I half expected to hear my mother’s furious footsteps already approaching as I went to my private library. In my mind, she’d been standing outside my quarters all day ready to pound down the door.

  When Victor came to tell me of her arrival at the outer door, I touched my earpiece again to let the guards know she was expected.

  Instead of a heated rage of fury, she arrived in pure icy calm.

  I stood, but it wasn’t a show of respect. I was ready to face off.

  I caught a faint waft of her perfume. It reminded me of the flowers that used to sit on her vanity. The ones she’d used to make poison.

  “I’ll give you one chance to tell me why you tried to kill Maya.” My voice was hard as granite.

  “To prevent your idiocy. Your recent behavior only proves I was correct in doing so.”

  She didn’t even bother trying to deny her part in attempted murder, and she obviously felt no remorse. I couldn’t help a quiet mirthless laugh at her audacity.

  She pulled at the folds of her skirt and then crossed her arms tightly, as if suddenly chilly. She pierced me with her gaze. “Whether you want to or not, you’ll go through with it. You will marry one of the Calistan girls, Toric.”

  “No. I won’t, actually. And I’m not going to debate it with you.” I stood with my arms stiff at my sides, my hands tight fists. “Do you know you’re part Pirro?”

  Her puzzlement was immediate, and it appeared genuine. Her expression seemed to widen for a moment, and then her face twisted—part confusion and part anger. “Why would you say such a thing?”

 

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