Season of Glory

by Lisa Tawn Bergren

  “You say you were meeting with others of the Way?” Cornelius asked, scrutinizing them thoughtfully, with chin in hand. “In Pacifica?”

  “Oh, no,” said the young woman with the pendant. “We dared not there. But in Castle Vega, there are more opportunities. More distractions for the Pacifican guards.”

  “Distractions you took advantage of.”

  “Many did,” she said with an earnest nod.

  “I find nothing to fear in them,” Vidar put in, looking to Cornelius. He shrugged. “Shadows, but from what we’ve witnessed, that comes with the territory these four have been inhabiting.”

  It was true. Any time spent near the Sheolites seemed to leave an echo of darkness. It was like dipping your hand in dye; you could wash your hands, know they were clean, but they’d still be partially stained for a while.

  “Andriana?” the elder asked me, waving toward the newcomers.

  I reached down to touch a woman’s shoulder. “May I?”

  She frowned in confusion, but nodded. I closed my eyes a moment, searching her, then shook my head. “Fear, for certain. But wouldn’t we all be edgy if we were in their position? They might fear how we will receive them—or even fear that we will turn them back.”

  “Chaza’el?” Cornelius asked, turning to my slight brother behind him.

  “I have not seen them among my visions as of yet,” he said.

  Kapriel arrived then, alongside Lord Cyrus, as did Tressa and Killian. They were lodging in another wing of the Citadel. But it was at the prince that the four new arrivals all stared. I gasped, feeling their collective, stark terror at once. They fell to their faces, arms outstretched across the floor.

  Automatically, I reached for my armband, wondering if I was feeling the chill of warning within it. But it was only these people, I understood then, and what they were feeling. They thought Kapriel was Keallach, his twin. They thought that, somehow, all was lost. They were defectors, not only of the emperor’s service, but his empire itself. And yet the emperor haunted them.

  “No, brothers and sisters, there is no need for that,” Kapriel said gently, going to reach out to one and then the other. “I am not your emperor, Keallach. I am his brother, Kapriel. And while I am a prince, here in this place I am but your brother.” He looked to Cornelius and Vidar, confirming what he had gathered. That they’d been vetted and were safe.

  “Rise, new brothers and sisters of the Way,” Kapriel said. “You are welcome among us, and I pray that you will find sanctuary and peace here. We ask that you contribute in any way that the Maker has gifted you to do so.”

  Gifted them to do so. I knew, inherently, that they had gifts. Just what they were, I had yet to discern.

  CHAPTER

  13

  KEALLACH

  My heart stopped as the missing servants’ tracking devices suddenly ceased moving at the mouth of the Valley. The devices had clearly been discovered. We’d been watching for days, my Council jubilant that the trap they had set had been sprung. And they were growing more celebratory still, the closer the servants got to the Valley. But the ID chips had obviously been removed and destroyed.

  “You’d better hope your second phase works,” I grumbled when we convened the next day. But I had a hard time breathing normally as we waited for the technician to focus in on an image among the swirling gray-and-white snow on the screen before us. Gradually, the image began to take form. It was dark and grainy, but clear enough.

  I sucked in my breath when I spotted Andriana, even for a moment, and grimaced when I felt sick with longing. I knew the other men had heard the childish sound emerge from me too. This made me angrier still.

  But the servant girl moved too quickly, turning toward an old man again as he spoke, and her amulet necklace—with the tiny camera embedded inside—slipped partially beneath her tunic. Now all we could see was Ronan and, behind him, the one they called Raniero.

  I tensed. Ronan. If it hadn’t been for him, Dri would still be here. With me.

  “See if you can get the second camera operational,” Sethos said, leaning closer.

  “There is no sound?” I barked.

  “No,” said a second man in gray, in front of the terminals, who was fiddling with several dials and keys on his board. “Not yet. For some reason, it is not transmitting. Or perhaps we are simply too distant.”

  “Well then, get closer to them,” I commanded. “To Castle Vega. Or set up a station near the mouth of the Valley, if necessary. This information will give us everything we need to know about that Citadel and the people within the Valley, her defenses.” And bring Andriana back to me.

  “What if they take off their necklaces?” Fenris said, breaking me out of my reverie.

  “They’re worth a small fortune,” Daivat said. “If they sell them or give them away, someone else of prominence—and access—might pick them up, wear them, and be of use too.”

  Fenris nodded. “But you’re right, Highness. Hearing what they have to say now is key.”

  “Then make sure we soon establish the audio connection,” I said tightly. It was the least he could do for me after everything he had messed up. “There are more people entering that Valley every day.”

  “Why not ignore them?” Daivat asked from the corner, where he leaned casually against a table.

  “Because they are people of the Way,” Maximillian said wearily, leaning the back of his head against his chair. He was still looking peaked, but day by day, he was gaining strength. “And the Way is fueled by their growth and passion. If we do not eradicate every one within those cursed mountain walls—”

  “Save two,” I interrupted. “Andriana and Kapriel are to be returned to me.”

  “Save Andriana and Kapriel,” Max amended with an apologetic nod, “the rest must be destroyed. Because every one of them shall stand against us. They are a cancer that must be cut out of the Trading Union before they infiltrate every corner of it.”

  “They would never truly be such a threat,” scoffed Fenris. “Even if we kill most of those in the Citadel, we will bring this resistance to its knees.”

  “You might be surprised at their … voracity,” Maximillian said. “Isn’t their presence indicative of how even one can infect many?”

  “Walk with me,” I said to him, after it was clear that the servants were being led down a cavernous hallway and into a dorm-like room with a hundred beds. “You there,” I said to two others in gray. “Make certain you begin mapping every inch of the Citadel.”

  “Yes, Highness,” said one.

  Sethos was near them now, overseeing scouting parties to gain all the information he could about what lay outside the fortress.

  Maximillian rose from his chair and shook off a servant’s helpful arm, straightening his tunic before following me out the door. I took it slowly, but not too slowly. I was still angry with him, despite his injuries. He had pushed Andriana too far, too fast. If he hadn’t, I thought, she would still be here with me, even if Ronan had begged her to go. There had been something between us that could not be denied. In time, I would not have had to compel her to kiss me, touch me. She would have done so of her own accord.

  “I’m with you on this, Max. I want every single one of them driven from the Citadel,” I said to him as we paused by a window overlooking the Great Expanse. “I want this rebellion put down, once and for all.”

  “It shall be done,” he said.

  I glanced at him and felt a momentary pang of guilt when I noticed the beads of sweat on his brow, evidence of the effort this exchange demanded of him. But anger and agitation overtook me. “It will take more than killing everyone within the Valley to stop this. For every person that girl encounters, I want a picture and a name attached. Family members, community of origin, all of it. We must not root out just these followers, but every family member and friend they have.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  We stood there, looking out over the green grounds that led to the woods into which the
y had escaped, eluding my guards and even the Sheolite trackers. Cyrus … Only thoughts of his betrayal made my pulse pound through my temples faster than Maximillian’s foolish choices. “I want Cyrus to be brought here too,” I grit out. “To die slowly.”

  “Yes, Majesty,” Maximillian said with particular vehemence.

  We stood there a moment longer before he dared, “What is it, Majesty, that you intend for Andriana?”

  I could not voice what I hoped might be possible. I knew it was foolish; I didn’t need his pity. “I don’t know. I only know that I do not yet wish her to die.”

  He paused. “And your brother?”

  “Again, I am uncertain. I only know that if he and Andriana die, any hope for a unified empire will go with them. No one is more powerful than a dead martyr within the people’s minds. Bring them to me. And we will see what comes next.”

  He turned to go, awaiting my dismissal.

  “Bring them to me, Max,” I repeated. “Or I will be forced to go after them myself.”

  CHAPTER

  14

  RONAN

  I stood beside Killian and Tressa as servants came to collect the newcomers and usher them to their quarters for the remainder of the night. As the last one passed, Tressa reached over and stayed her hand. “Sister, tell me. What happened to your shoulders? Are you in need of healing?”

  “No,” said the girl, shaking her head. “It was merely our Pacifican ID chip. The Aravanders … they do not like the chips. They fear they might be tracking devices, so they cut them out from beneath our skin.”

  Tressa grimaced. “That must’ve been painful.”

  “They were actually quite careful, making the smallest of cuts.” She looked over her shoulder. “The blood must have spread as we walked the remainder of the way to the Citadel.” She gave Tressa a reassuring smile. “It looks worse than it is.”

  “Well, as you get washed up, if you decide you need some stitches, feel free to ask for them tonight.”

  The girl gave Tressa a shy smile. “No healing prayer for such things? You are the healer among the Remnants, are you not?”

  “I am,” Tressa said. “But I suppose the Maker assumes we can handle such small matters without divine intervention.”

  The girl turned away reluctantly, following the servants. The women were heading to the female bathing quarters, and the men toward the male bathing quarters. “C’mon,” Killian said to me under his breath. “Let’s go take a sauna ourselves and see if we can find out more about our friends to the west.”

  I nodded, and when Dri looked my way, I gestured that I was going with Killian and I’d meet her at the room. She nodded too, and I could see the question in her eyes. Were we okay? Could we just move on from whatever had transpired with Niero? I turned away, not ready to respond, even silently. I wasn’t sure where I stood with Niero, nor why he agitated me so much. There was still something that niggled at my memory about him, something I should remember. Earlier, I had thought I’d seen something more than brotherly love in what he shared with Dri. But it was clear to me that wasn’t the reason for my agitation. It was something else.

  “Hey, heading to the sauna?” Vidar called as we gathered with the Pacifican men and dismissed the servants, telling them we’d show the way ourselves.

  “Yes,” I said, glad when he joined us. Sometimes his humor could elicit information from newcomers like no other form of questioning could.

  We went down to the Citadel’s cavernous, steamy sauna chamber and then hovered above the neighboring pools, which were constantly flowing with fresh water from mountain streams that fell through a channel in the granite walls, supplying the whole fortress with what we needed. In it came, and out it went, flushing out the latrines, which kept the whole structure surprisingly clean, even with hundreds of inhabitants. I’d have to remember to check it out with Killian—the tunnels that brought in the water and took it out. I knew that the Community elders had likely thought of any vulnerability in the fortress, but I’d rest easier knowing myself how those barriers were constructed.

  “This way,” I said to the newcomers. We learned their names were Deshaun and Gregor, and they’d originally been from Georgii Post before finding work at Castle Vega. After training, they’d been taken to Palace Pacifica, but they always were a part of the staff that accompanied any of the Council who returned to Castle Vega because they were well versed in how the butler, Mr. Olin, liked to run the household there.

  “Oh, I remember that guy,” Vidar said. “He was a beast! You couldn’t miss a bit of dirt with your cloth or he’d come after you.”

  “I’d heard you’d found work within the walls of Castle Vega,” Deshaun said mischievously. “It was all the servants could talk about for weeks.”

  Vidar laughed. “We only lasted a day. Apparently, they didn’t take kindly to Remnants in the household.”

  The two men shared a brief look. “You’re lucky you lived to tell about it,” said Gregor. “Such appearances so close to danger only fuel the stories about you. Everyone wants to know more.”

  “The Community, deep underground at Castle Vega, and more apparent at Georgii Post, is growing,” Deshaun added. “Ever since you stayed in Georgii and helped that family escape, the numbers there swell. Many are hoping you will return. What Asher began, others have grown with the orphans and more, despite the Pacificans’ efforts to crack down on them.”

  “When someone threatens to take something from you,” Killian said, tossing us each a towel before we disrobed and went into the sauna, “you’re more likely to consider the value. So the Pacificans’ efforts …” he said, tossing his dreadlocks over his shoulder with a cheeky grin, “only aid our own.”

  “It’s true!” said Deshaun. “The more they try and quiet talk of the Way, or squelch people from repeating some of the Sacred Words, the more others whisper of it.”

  We followed Killian into the sauna and took seats on the benches hewn from the cavern walls. I reached forward and dumped bucket after bucket of water on the heated rocks at the center. Steam immediately billowed up and around us. I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes and feeling my lack of sleep catch up with me. Maybe after this bath I’d go and find Dri and apologize for that nonsense with Niero.

  “So, what’s with the necklaces?” Vidar asked, pointing to the nearest man’s chest. We hadn’t known they wore the same ones as the women had, and I hadn’t noticed them coming in. “Is that a form of matrimonial symbol or something?”

  “This?” said Deshaun, lifting it between thumb and forefinger and gazing down at it. “No. It’s just something they gave us a week ago. Some sort of further symbol of ‘solidarity’ that every servant is supposed to wear. It’s forged in platinum, or I would’ve burned it with that uniform over there,” he added, gesturing with his head back to where we’d changed. I’d seen a fresh, clean stack of clothing awaiting each of them after our bath. “We’re wondering if we can sell them, or melt them down and use the money to get our new start here.” He let the necklace drop to his bare chest.

  I rose, moving tentatively toward him. “May I?” I asked, reaching toward it.

  “Sure,” he said amiably as I lifted it in my hand. “Or you can have it,” he said. “We owe you our lives. Perhaps it will be of some use to the Community?” He slipped the leather strap from around his neck, and I remembered one of the women offering hers to Dri as we left, and Dri slipping it over her head. I lifted it to the light, studying the gleam of polished metal and the tiny, round globe of iridescent glass at the center. It reminded me of the center of the abalone shells that some Aravander children gathered, and I marveled at the rainbow of color … but then stilled.

  I turned my fingers a fraction. And froze.

  A tiny, perfect square was visible within the iridescent dome.

  A camera.

  “Spies!” I smashed the necklace to the ground, ignoring the cries of the newcomers. Then I went to the other man, savagely ripping his pend
ant from his neck, and smashed it to the ground. Killian was already lunging toward the first, hands outstretched for his throat, all too clear about what alarmed me so. He drove Gregor to the wall.

  “We … are … not … spies …” Gregor choked out, even as I grabbed Deshaun’s wrist, twisting it behind him.

  “We’re not!” cried Deshaun. “I swear it! We had no idea! You must believe us!”

  And I did. They were innocent. Pawns.

  Used by players who now had likely seen the inner chasms and chambers and hallways of the Citadel, who were mapping it even now.

  As they followed every person who yet wore one.

  Which led me to … Dri.

  CHAPTER

  15

  ANDRIANA

  I stood looking out from one of the few small, northern balconies in the Citadel; the sheer face of the mountain below kept it from being a way in for intruders. No one but Niero would be able to get through here, I thought, and he has wings.

  “Ah, there you are,” Ronan said with relief when he saw me. “When I returned to our chambers and you weren’t there …”

  I gave him a coy smile over my shoulder. “There are only so many places I could go. Tonight … I wanted to see out. As much as I appreciate the Citadel, I like far less stone between me and what the Maker has made.”

  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I sank into his embrace, grateful that he seemed to have moved beyond the incident with Niero.

  “How did it go?” I asked. “With the newcomers?”

  “Fine, fine,” he said, kissing the side of my head. “Dri …” he said, a bit too casually, “do you happen to have the pendant the Pacifican girl offered to you?”

  I turned in his arms to look into his face, deeply shadowed with the torch behind him. But it did not take my eyes to sense the alarm in him. “Why?”

  “Dri,” he said, “the pendant. What did you do with it?”