by K. M. Fahy
Under Catarva’s impervious calm, something dark and angry thrashed, and Kitieri read it in her hard amber eyes as she drew closer.
She knows.
As the Baliant reached for her, Kitieri planted her feet and lifted her chin. She would not run. If she was going to call herself an equal to this woman, she’d have to earn it—right here. Right now.
Long fingers brushed her throat as Kitieri matched the woman’s glare, and her lightning stirred defensively at the touch. It rushed through her in answer to a silent call, ready to protect her from harm even as it burned her raw, mangled hands under the bandages, and Kitieri bit back the whimper in her throat.
She’d die before she showed this woman weakness.
The ghost of a smirk crossed Catarva’s lips as she lowered her hand from Kitieri’s throat to slide it under the flap of her cloak, revealing the brooch. Kitieri glanced to the identical pin on Catarva’s breast as the woman’s fingers traced the metal against her pounding heart.
The moment she’d dreaded. Would Catarva see it as a betrayal?
“Is it?” Catarva’s soft voice startled her, so close that Kitieri felt her breath on her cheek.
“Is it what?”
“A betrayal.” Catarva’s lips were at her ear now, and chills ran up Kitieri’s spine. She turned her head closer to Catarva’s, their cheeks almost touching.
“You tell me,” she whispered.
Catarva lingered in her proximity a moment longer before pulling back.
“I apologize for my misstep earlier,” she said, her velvety voice back at full volume for the rest of the room to hear. “Impeccable timing, Baliant Kitieri.”
She whipped around, walking back to the window to resume her fixation, and Kitieri silently released the breath she’d been holding. The burn of her lightning dissipated with Catarva’s retreat, and she stood cold and breathless while Jorid and Minna gaped at her.
She followed Catarva to the window, and Minna scampered from her place to give them room.
Stepping up to the glass, Kitieri followed Catarva’s line of sight down to an empty stone walkway leading out from the Church, lit with a single lamp at the garden’s edge. Anticipation quivered in the air around her.
“You’ve come to strike an alliance, then,” Catarva said.
“Possibly.”
“The Churches don’t exactly believe in alliances, you know.”
“Mine does.”
“Because you need me.”
“You need me, too.”
Catarva raised an eyebrow. “You are playing with a fire you don’t understand, Kitieri,” she said.
“Maybe so, but nothing was getting done your way.”
Catarva’s nostrils flared. “I’d beg to differ,” she said, “but it doesn’t matter. We’re here now, and we can only move forward.”
Kitieri regarded her for a moment, taking in her calm composure belied only by the small, darting movements of her eyes as she watched the walkway below.
“You’re not going to ask about—”
“The Church of Shirasette?” Catarva finished for her. “I’ve known about them for quite a while. It was only a matter of time before they exploited that loophole.”
“Then you’re not angry about another Church?”
To Kitieri’s surprise, Catarva’s shoulders jumped with a small laugh.
“How can I be angry at people trying to survive?” she asked. “The Church of Shirasette arose out of necessity. They do for their people what I cannot do for mine, and what Tiernan has never done for his. I understand their existence, and why they chose you. But…” Catarva took a deep breath, lowering her chin. “There is more at work here than exploitable laws and petty politics.”
“So tell me.”
The muscle in Catarva’s jaw tensed. “Everything we know, everything we are, is a balancing act,” she said.
Kitieri looked away, fighting the urge to roll her eyes to the ceiling. More stupid riddles.
“It’s not a riddle,” Catarva said, and Kitieri’s head snapped around.
“What?”
“You’re tired of the riddles, but that’s not what it is. There are two gods and two Churches for a reason. That is the foundation upon which this world was built, and a disruption of that balance will have dire consequences. We are already seeing it.”
“All right,” Kitieri snapped, “how are you reading my mind?”
Catarva smirked. “You give much away without words. But… I will admit it’s one of the many gifts I inherited from my dear mother.”
The venom in the last two words took Kitieri by surprise.
“Still, if you prefer to say it aloud,” Catarva went on, “tell me, then, Kitieri. What do you hope to gain from an alliance between our Churches?”
Kitieri glanced back at Jorid, remembering the words she’d spoken at the gate. Would Catarva be as receptive?
“Your Board is corrupt,” she said quietly. “I know you can see it. Amadora is working with Stil, and thousands will die if we don’t do something. You can’t tell me you accept what they’re doing—what they’ve done to Haldin. Catarva, that man would give his life for you. It’s written all over his face every time I see you together. You can’t seriously tell me you’re just going to leave him dow—”
“I’m not leaving him anywhere,” Catarva hissed with a sudden rush of anger, eyes flashing yellow again. Kitieri fell back a step, shocked by the uncharacteristic outburst.
Of course.
She’d been blind to miss it. Their closeness. Their little exchanges. Their shared glances.
“Wait,” she breathed. “You… you love him, don’t you?”
Catarva glared at the window, working her jaw back and forth. “My personal feelings have never and will never matter. But I will do what is right, and Haldin is a loyal and indispensable Commander. He was wrongly imprisoned, and I will see that wrong righted.”
Kitieri nodded slowly, still processing the new information. For reasons she could not comprehend, a sinking weight pulled on her heart.
“So, what are you going to do?” she asked, pushing the unexpected emotion aside. “Call another Board meeting to reverse the sentence?”
“Something like that.”
Kitieri watched her, scrutinizing her every movement. Nothing with the Board was that easy, and they both knew it.
“Impeccable timing, Ms. Kitieri…” She looked back to the window, chewing the inside of her cheek as understanding dawned.
“You’re banking on Amadora making the trade. Haldin for me.”
Catarva did not answer, returning to her stoic nature.
“I can’t blame you.” Kitieri shrugged. “It’s only fair. But—”
“Kitieri.”
“—I think I can do you one better.”
Catarva paused, and Kitieri turned to face her.
“Trading me for Haldin will only treat a symptom of a deeper evil,” she said. “Sure, you’ll have your Commander back, but Amadora will still run this place into the ground, and she will destroy you the first chance she gets. She’ll feed the Church of Enahris to Stil on a silver platter, and you will lose everything. You won’t have to worry about Haldin’s imprisonment, because he’ll be dead.”
“Kitieri,” Catarva said again, louder this time.
“If you really want Haldin back, you need Amadora gone. And I can help with that.”
Catarva raised an eyebrow, her posture shifting toward Kitieri. “Is that so?”
Kitieri swallowed, taking a deep breath. If Catarva didn’t go for this, she’d have to answer for that promise she’d made to Jorid. In the back of her mind, she imagined Bat’s fit upon hearing that news.
“Amadora’s power rests with the Board, right?” she asked. “She bullies them into submission and gains a unanimous vote to override your input. I know my trial can’t be the only time she’s done that.”
Catarva regarded her a moment before releasing a soft sigh.
“N
o, it wasn’t,” she admitted. “She’s fought me since the day I took her seat as Baliant at fifteen, and she was demoted to Chief Advisor.”
Kitieri jerked her head back as the statement hit her like a battering ram.
“I’m sorry, what?” she demanded. “Amadora was Baliant before you? How in the hells did you unseat her? And at fifteen?”
“It’s a long story,” Catarva muttered, “but she’d do anything to remove me if she could.”
Kitieri shook her head, forcing an expedited recovery. At least it halfway explained the old woman’s hells-ridden determination to bring her own Church crashing to the ground. What mattered more was that Catarva saw it, too.
“Right,” she said. “So you know Amadora is a cancer that will destroy this Church.”
“I do,” Catarva replied. “But some things must be allowed to run their course.”
Anger flushed Kitieri’s cheeks. “Like Haldin or myself rotting in a cell until you deem it time to do something?”
Catarva’s eyes flashed, but she did not look away from the window. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Kitieri stepped forward, incensed, coming so close to that Baliant that she brushed the long white sleeve of her robes.
“Yeah, no one could ever understand, huh?” she snarled. “Gods forbid you fucking share anything with anyone, because no one could ever be as smart as you.”
Catarva rounded on her, taller than a giant and eyes bright as the sun. “You want to know what I know?” she hissed, lowering her face to Kitieri’s. “You want to carry my weight? You think you can?”
Catarva’s anger chilled Kitieri, and her stomach dropped to the floor even as she met the Baliant’s glare. She would not back off. She couldn’t back off. Her own Church depended on her just as much as this one did.
“Try me,” she spat back, lifting onto her toes. Catarva’s eyes burned golden, so close to Kitieri’s that she could almost feel their fire.
“You’re not ready.” With those words, the Baliant whipped away, and Kitieri was left shaking in her own fury.
“Fine,” she ground out through seething breaths. “Whether or not you want to trust me, you still need me. You told me so the day Haldin put the oran bands on me. You were willing to cross Amadora to bring me on and train me for a reason. Unsurprisingly, you won’t tell me what that reason is, but you’re not going to get it if I’m locked in a cell. So I get that you’re ready to trade me for Haldin, but there might be a way to get both of us.”
Catarva pursed her lips. “Go on.”
Kitieri studied her for a moment, assessing her body language. Catarva probably already knew what she was about to say, but she needed to say it anyway.
“Amadora is a bully,” Kitieri said. “And bullies are nothing without their back-up. Turn the Board against her, and she loses her power.”
Catarva snorted. “The Board. They’re as bad as she is.”
“I don’t think so,” Kitieri replied. “I know I only got a glimpse of them, but a few seemed like they could be swayed if the power dynamic shifted—like Rulka.”
Catarva shook her head. “Rulka and the rest of them are complacent. They know they will benefit from a system that sacrifices the poor to allow them to continue living when the lightning grows too strong. Convincing them to relinquish that privilege just to overturn Amadora, the one who planned the entire thing, will not be an easy task.”
“It’s easy to be complacent when no one knows,” Kitieri said. “But that’s not the case anymore. Thousands of people know now, and there is strength in numbers. The stronger the Church of Shirasette grows, the less power the Boards have. The poor are standing up for themselves, and their entire system of tyranny will crumble. We can use that.”
Catarva lifted her chin. “What are you suggesting?”
“Call the Board meeting,” Kitieri said. “Let them see me. She can’t touch a Baliant.”
A smirk crossed Catarva’s face, and Kitieri’s heart skipped a beat. A good smirk?
“Not yet,” Catarva said to the glass.
Kitieri frowned. “Why not?” she asked. “What are you waiting for?” When Catarva did not answer, Kitieri released an exasperated sigh. “Every minute we waste is an eternity for Haldin in that hole, so can you be straightforward with me for once?”
Catarva’s eyes narrowed to slits as she focused on the walkway far below.
“All right, Kitieri,” she said. “I’m willing to accept your offer of an alliance. I believe we can help each other, but we need to make another deal first.”
Apprehension rose in Kitieri’s throat. “I’m listening.”
“I know there is much I have yet to tell you,” Catarva said, “and I will. I promise I will answer all of your questions when the time is right, but until that time, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
She looked sideways at Kitieri, eyes glowing in the shadow against the dark window, and Kitieri looked away from their smoldering burn. Everything about the woman’s secrets and cold demeanor raised the hair on the back of her neck, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter. She nodded silently, and Catarva dipped her head in acknowledgment, glancing back to the window.
“Ah,” she breathed. “There she is.”
Kitieri followed her gaze down to the walkway, where a figure in a hooded, deep magenta cloak was crossing through the lamp’s light. Catarva pulled away from the glass with a smug grin.
“Now we call the Board.”
Chapter 18
Kitieri glanced back at the lamp, where the magenta cloak had disappeared into the darkness beyond the Church garden, as Catarva swept across the room to the oblong table.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Minna.” Catarva ignored her, beckoning to the woman as she gathered slips of paper off the table. “Please deliver these to the Board right away. Let them know it’s urgent, and if you can, let them see Amadora’s summons on top.”
Kitieri watched her go before looking back to Catarva.
“It was Amadora,” she breathed. “You waited for her to leave to call the meeting.”
“Yes. For years, I’ve watched her sneak out after dark to run to him. After today’s events, there was no doubt she would leave tonight.” Catarva sniffed. “They’ve much to fret over.”
Kitieri grinned. A Board without its bully would make for an interesting night.
“In the meantime,” Catarva said, “you and I have an errand to run.”
She strode for the door, and Jorid sprang forward to pull it open. Kitieri jogged a few paces to catch up before forcing herself into a more dignified walk, extending her strides past their comfortable length to close the distance. Catarva stepped out into the hall with a nod at the officers on guard.
“Officers Jorid and Corte, will you accompany Baliant Kitieri and myself to the dungeons?”
Kitieri bit back her laugh as Corte’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. His mouth moved wordlessly for a moment before Catarva’s gentle voice cut off any response.
“Now, please. Time is of the essence.”
Jorid led the way down the stairs, beginning their long journey from the top to the bottom of the Church, and Corte fell in line behind Kitieri, leaving the one remaining officer standing dumbfounded at the doors to the Baliant’s chambers.
As they descended, Kitieri felt Corte’s eyes boring into the back of her head. The energy rolling off him hit her in pulsing waves, and she fought the urge to look behind her.
His whisper over her shoulder surprised her, and she jerked her head to the side. “Taking your rightful place in that cell, after all?”
Kitieri gritted her teeth, imagining a backhanded fist to his face, as Catarva spoke. “You will see your Commander freed, Corte.”
Corte’s hovering presence vanished as he fell back in embarrassed silence.
Kitieri’s pulse quickened as they passed the last window before the stairs took them below ground. She vividly remembered the scuffle with
Deep Voice and High Voice at this very spot, and the feel of Haldin’s warm, calloused hand clamped around her mouth.
Haldin.
As she watched Catarva’s flowing robes ripple behind her, dragging down each stair in a regal train, the twinge in Kitieri’s heart returned. What had she expected? That Haldin would ever care for her? His trainee? The reason for his imprisonment?
She shook her head, casting off the unwelcome thoughts.
An eternity and a half later, Kitieri’s boots hit the stone of the Church’s lowest floor and the cold, damp air chilled her even through the cloak. The metal door at the end of the dim hallway loomed, stark and cruel in the flickering light, and Kitieri swallowed the emotions welling up within her.
A lone officer stood at the door, leaning on his spear, and his head snapped up at the sound of their approach. He squared his slumped shoulders instantly, bowing to the Baliant.
“Officer Shanid,” Catarva greeted the light-haired man. “Open the door, please.”
Shanid blinked, glancing between every member of the party. Kitieri knew his orders. Amadora had probably banned Catarva from seeing Haldin, just as Haldin had been banned from seeing her. But Amadora wasn’t here, and if what Jorid had told her was true…
“Do it,” Jorid said, probably as quietly as his gruff voice could go.
“I assure you, Officer, you will face no consequences for breach of orders,” Catarva said.
With a quick nod, Shanid reached for his keys and turned for the door. The poor man had probably spent his entire shift contemplating the release of his Commander without permission, Kitieri thought.
The metal door screeched on its hinges, opening to a pitch-black cell. Had Amadora even bothered to have the lamp oil replaced? Kitieri looked down at her shaking hands, clenching them into fists to still their tremors.
“Haldin?” Catarva stepped past Jorid and Shanid, white robes framed by the blackness. Only silence answered her, and Kitieri closed her eyes.
Please, let him be all right. Let him be—
“Catarva?”
The soft voice crept from the shadows, and Catarva rushed forward into the cell. Two arms wrapped around her waist, interrupting the stark white of her garment, and Kitieri looked away. She caught Jorid’s eye as he did the same, and they exchanged a grin.