by K. M. Fahy
“Well,” he said, “you made good on your promise, Baliant.”
Kitieri’s grin widened, and she looked back as Haldin emerged from the cell, blinking furiously. He squinted, straining to adjust to the torchlight before his face broke into a wide smile.
“Kitieri,” he said. Her heart jumped at the sound of her name, and she hoped to the gods the dim light would hide her blush. “You did come back.”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t?”
Haldin jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the darkness behind him. “Like I said, I wouldn’t have blamed you for running away and staying away. Is Inra with you?”
Kitieri’s smile fell, and she bit down on the inside of her lip.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t save her. Stil killed her anyways.”
“Damn it,” Haldin cursed under his breath. “Then…” He looked between Catarva and Kitieri. “What’s the occasion? Did someone push Amadora down the stairs, or is this a rogue jailbreak?”
“A bit of both,” Catarva replied, to shocked silence from the group. The laugh that followed was one of the most human sounds Kitieri had ever heard from the woman, and she joined in with the echoing laughter from the others.
“There’s much to explain,” Catarva continued, moving for the stairway, “but we’ll have to do it on the way. The Board is being called to assemble as we speak.”
Kitieri breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the final flight of stairs—the endless climbing and descending was getting tiresome. Catarva and Haldin walked so closely together in front of her that their hands brushed repeatedly, exchanging hushed tones, and Kitieri chose to watch her feet instead.
“Baliant Catarva,” Minna called from the door, “the messages have been delivered, and the Board is preparing to meet. A few of them were right behind me.”
Catarva nodded her thanks before breezing through the open chamber doors, Haldin on her heels. Kitieri hurried after them at Minna’s beckoning request, leaving the officers out in the hall as the door closed behind her.
“We will have one chance at this tonight,” Catarva said quietly, turning to both her and Haldin. “They will expect Amadora’s presence, and I predict most of them will flounder without it. Ghentrin will be the key. He’s her second, and a big part of Amadora’s influence over the Board, but he has one major weakness. He’s—”
A loud knock made Kitieri jump, and Catarva’s head snapped up.
“Follow my lead,” she whispered.
Minna opened the door to three black robes; Kitieri recognized Darrow, Rulka, and the blond man whose name she didn’t know. Darrow’s slitted eyes burned into Kitieri before he turned to Catarva.
“There had better be a very good reason you went against the Board’s sentence,” he drawled in his slow, honey-like tone. “Two Board sentences, technically.”
“Indeed.” Catarva’s voice cut like ice as she gestured for Darrow to take his seat. Rulka’s eyes burned with the same curiosity as the day of Kitieri’s trial as she moved to her own seat.
“You returned,” she mused quietly, almost to herself.
Kitieri did not answer, but consciously softened her expression as she watched the woman sit, and Rulka surprised her with the ghost of a smile.
“You’d better have a damned good reason for this summons, Catarva!”
Ghentrin’s loud, boisterous voice could be heard all the way down the hallway, and he burst through the door with his fists clenched into balls of rage. Red-faced and winded from the climb, the man stopped dead in his tracks.
“What in the two hells is this?” he thundered, chest heaving.
“An emergency meeting, as my summons indicated,” Catarva replied coolly.
Ghentrin’s chest heaved even harder, and he shook a meaty finger at her. “You don’t have the authority to do this.”
“The Baliant may call on their Board at any time, Advisor,” Catarva said. “It’s quite plainly written in our laws.”
“I mean this!” Ghentrin swept his hand through the air, gesturing at Kitieri and Haldin standing to either side of her. “Criminals should rot in prison!”
“I agree,” Catarva said. “Criminals should be imprisoned. Please take your seat, Advisor.”
Ghentrin’s eye twitched as he puzzled through Catarva’s statement, and Kitieri tried not to grin. For all his blustering, he wasn’t the brightest lamp in the Sanctuary.
Instead of moving to his chair, though, Ghentrin started to back toward the door.
“I won’t have your trickery, Catarva,” he grumbled. “You want to undermine the Board, and I won’t have it!”
“Refusal to honor your summons is an offense punishable by your suspension from the Board,” Catarva said.
Ghentrin paused, face growing redder, as the last Advisor appeared behind him. “Well,” he sputtered, “we can’t have a meeting without the Chief Advisor.”
“Amadora received the same summons as you,” Catarva assured him. “She will be here, I’m sure. Unless, of course, you know something I do not.”
Ghentrin’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of purple, and Kitieri was sure he would burst if he blew himself up anymore.
“Have a seat, Advisor.” Catarva nodded to his chair, and Ghentrin’s lip twisted into a hateful snarl.
“I’ll meet,” he said reluctantly, “but I will not sit. Not at your table.”
Kitieri rolled her eyes inwardly. This man was desperate for any semblance of power.
“Wonderful.” Catarva smiled at him, clasping her hands before her. “While we wait for the Chief Advisor, I wanted to thank you all for convening on such short notice. I do apologize for pulling you from your evenings, but recent events demand an explanation.”
“You’re damned right, they do,” Ghentrin huffed. “I want to know why this criminal isn’t back in her cell, where she belongs!”
He pointed violently at Kitieri, and a surge of anger rushed through her. Her lightning rippled in response, biting at her burns, but she pushed the pain away as her heart pounded.
Sorry, Catarva, it’s my lead now.
“Because you do not have the right to imprison me,” she said, loud and strong, and all eyes in the room snapped to her.
“The hells, we don’t,” Ghentrin sneered back. “We are the Board. We have the right to do whatever we damned well please.”
Kitieri curled her lip. “You’re not my Board. And you can’t touch me.”
Grabbing her Church’s book from its inner pocket, she pulled the ties of her cloak loose. The heavy garment crumpled to the floor, revealing her full garb beneath. Her high-necked, long-sleeved black robe met her tall black boots at her knees and a bright blue sash cinched her waist, falling in a wide, shimmering swath of satin down her left leg.
Thank the gods Bat didn’t force me into one of those all-white get-ups.
Ghentrin stared, confused, until Rulka uttered a soft gasp.
“The crest,” she said, standing. “She wears the mark of a Baliant.”
Ghentrin’s face flushed red again, and his eyes bulged.
Just when he was starting to calm down, too, Kitieri thought. Shame.
“Bullshit!” he shouted. “You’re no more a Baliant than I am a god!”
Kitieri tossed the book onto the table, where it landed with a sharp smack. Ghentrin stomped forward, deliberately slow and menacing as he swiped the book up into his hands. Scanning the first page, disgust blossomed across his round features as he thumbed through the following pages. At length, he looked up at Kitieri with barely controlled rage.
“This means nothing,” he spat.
“That is objectively false,” Catarva said, her voice light and musical next to Ghentrin’s gravelly anger. “Our law technically allows their claim to independence.”
He rounded on her, ready to spit fire. “You support this?”
“It is out of my hands,” Catarva replied. “The Church of Shirasette is now a valid Church in our cit
y, and the Church of Enahris will recognize them as such, whether you like it or not.”
“I will not recognize some horde of pathetic, uneducated, worthless swine as a Church!”
Kitieri’s lightning snapped with her temper, and her face screwed up momentarily to bite back the cry that tried to escape. Catarva shot her a concerned glance, and Kitieri forced in a breath.
“Well, Advisor,” she ground out, “here’s something you might recognize. Those pathetic, uneducated, worthless swine are no longer under your control, and our numbers are growing every day. Now that we are a legal Church—one that actually cares for its members—you can watch those numbers explode. Your apathy and Stil’s tyranny are no longer the only two choices in this city, and in case basic math fails you, I’ll spell it out. The more members we gain, the more you lose.”
The Board members around the table swiveled their heads between Kitieri and Ghentrin, too enthralled by the exchange to interrupt. They really were spineless without Amadora telling them how to think and act.
Keep up the pressure.
“And here’s another tidbit of information for you,” Kitieri continued, leaning forward. “My Board and my entire Church know who and what you are. All of you.”
She turned to the rest of the table, eyes sweeping over the Board, coming to rest last on Rulka. No faint smile graced her features now, and she dropped her eyes to her lap.
“Know who we are,” Ghentrin mocked her, laughing. “What the hells are you on about?”
Kitieri tore her gaze from Rulka, dragging it over each Advisor more slowly this time. Finally coming back to Ghentrin, she said, “Both the Chief Advisors have made it abundantly clear that they want the people of this city dead. You have betrayed your Church and your responsibility, and thousands know about it. Whatever secrets you thought you were keeping are out.”
“Betrayed—tch—I…” Ghentrin forced a laugh, but Kitieri watched his eyes dart pleadingly to the rest of the Board. None of them looked back at him. “I… I didn’t…”
“You have purposefully kept the common people from the resources and help they need, treating them as nothing more than slaves fit only to die mining your cintra, and we know you’ve been manufacturing a war with the Church of Histan. The poor dying wasn’t enough, right? You need the officers dead, too. The fewer left alive when the lightning takes over, the more resources will be left for you.” Kitieri snorted in disgust, shaking her head. “I have to give it to you, it was a solid plan, and it might even have worked… if the whole city hadn’t found out about it.”
Beneath the blustery red of his cheeks, Ghentrin paled. He looked again to the Board, and started stammering as Darrow leaned in to whisper something to the man beside him.
“So tell me, Ghentrin,” Kitieri went on, “what do you think will happen now when the lightning takes over? When the people didn’t lie down and die like they were supposed to, and your officers won’t fight for you? What do you think will become of a Board that murdered and demeaned its people for their own benefit? Do you think they’ll show you mercy? Do you think you deserve it?”
Ghentrin stood still, save for the rise and fall of his rotund chest. He didn’t bother looking to the Board this time.
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I… Well, I didn’t betray anyone. I’m not the Chief Advisor. You’re putting this on me, when it’s Amadora you need to be talking to!”
“Yes, well, I don’t see her here—do you?” Catarva said, furrowing her fine brows as if deeply troubled by the revelation. “At this point, Amadora is in violation of her call to summons, and risks being suspended from duty. As her second in command, this matter does fall to you, unless you can speak for the Chief Advisor’s whereabouts at this time.”
Ghentrin’s breathing quickened, and he opened his mouth to speak when Rulka stood and cut him off. “I know where she is.”
“Rulka,” Ghentrin growled.
“What?” she snapped. “I see no need to defend her when all she’s done is drag us down into this hole with her. You know that I was against this from the start, but she doesn’t make that much of an option.”
“I know where she is, too,” said the blond man, standing up next to Rulka with the other nameless Advisor.
“She went to the Church of Histan,” Rulka said.
“Why?” Catarva tilted her head.
Rulka glanced down at her hands before responding. “To expedite the war. With the lightning—uh, Kitieri— on the loose, she said it was time to get this over with.”
“Histan’s Church is organizing to move officially?” Catarva asked.
“She was going to push for that.”
Catarva nodded. “Then we will meet them.”
Kitieri turned to stare at the Baliant, and she caught Haldin’s hard glance from her other side.
“But,” Catarva continued, “all of you on this Board will need to choose which side you’d prefer to be on when this happens. As Baliant Kitieri so eloquently stated, the people will not look kindly upon you should you stay the course; but there may be a chance for redemption yet.”
Rulka nodded. “I’m with you, Baliants.”
“So am I,” Blondie said. “We never should have let her push us to this.”
Darrow and the final Advisor exchanged the same glance as before, and Ghentrin finally found his voice before they could speak.
“Wait, wait,” he said, waving a hand at the two men. “All of this doesn’t change the truth about the lightning. It will take over. I know… I mean, I’ll admit that Amadora’s plan was ruthless, but what happens when no one can go outside? What happens when there are thousands of mouths to feed but no one can work? Stil’s cintra hoards can only protect so many of our farms, and the numbers just don’t add up. We can’t—”
“Yes, people will die,” Kitieri said, stepping on his words. “People are dying now. They die every day because they are forced to go without the protection you take for granted. The thing you never considered, though, was that everyone deserves an equal chance at life. Sending others to slaughter so you can live in comfort is sick, and if you can’t see that, Ghentrin, then you don’t deserve a second chance. If you want to run to Stil and Amadora, you’re free to do that, but don’t think they’ll protect you any more than they’ve protected their own people. If you want to live, your best option is to join us.”
Ghentrin held Kitieri’s glare for only a moment before dropping his chin to his chest.
“She’s right, Ghentrin,” Rulka said. “Amadora would just as soon stab you to help herself, and you know it.”
The man let out a rush of air, deflating his puffed-up chest at long last. “That she would,” he said. “Well, it appears I’ve got no choice.”
The triumph Kitieri felt showed in Catarva’s beaming face.
“What happens next?” Rulka asked.
“First, we uninvite Amadora from the Board of Advisors,” Catarva replied. “Then… we move on the Church of Histan.”
Chapter 19
Cloak tied securely around her shoulders once more, Kitieri stole through the labyrinth of hallways within the Church of Enahris.
It’s late, she thought. How long had they been in that meeting? But she grinned to herself. Bat will understand. Everything is going just like I promised.
She lifted her hand to rub her tired eyes, and winced at the scream of her burns. The salve was wearing off fast now, and the pain was becoming a constant distraction.
Turning a corner, Kitieri came into view of the door to her old quarters. Finally. She paused just outside, fist poised to knock.
Why am I so nervous?
She lowered her hand, and instead moved to press her forehead against the door. “Taff. Jera.”
Shuffling sounds came from within, and Kitieri heard whispers from the other side. “Taff, did you hear that?”
Kitieri pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh. Jera’s idea of a whisper had never been quite on the same level as every
one else’s.
“It’s me,” she said softly.
The door whooshed open with such force that it sucked the edges of Kitieri’s cloak into the room, and two small bodies immediately glommed onto her.
“KIT—”
“Shhh!” Kitieri dropped into a half crouch, waving her hand in Jera’s face. “Inside—come on.”
Taff fell back into the darkness, yanking Jera with him, and Kitieri closed the door behind them. This time, she fell to her knees to accept two hugs so tight that they squeezed the air from her lungs. Emotion tore at her throat, and tears spilled down her face as she took in their familiar scents and the feeling of their arms around her. Gods, how she’d missed them.
Jera sobbed against her shoulder, antagonizing Kitieri’s own tears, as Taff whispered in her other ear.
“We thought we were never going to see you again.”
Kitieri squeezed her eyes closed, longing to hold them more tightly than her burns would allow. “I know,” were the only words she could muster. After several more deep, shuddering breaths, she sat back on her heels.
“I’m so sorry I went away,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine what you two went through.”
“We were worried for you,” Taff said.
“Yeah,” Jera said with a loud sniffle. “Haldin was really nice to us. He came and got us for breakfast every day.”
“It’s Commander Haldin, Jera,” Taff corrected her.
“He did?” Kitieri asked, blinking her remaining tears away. Jera nodded, a small smile spreading across her wet face. “Did you thank him?”
“Every day,” Jera said proudly, and Kitieri smiled back.
“Well, that was very good of him,” she said. “And everyone else has been nice to you?”
Taff looked down, and Jera tossed him a quick glance before looking away. Kitieri’s shoulders tensed.
“Tell me,” she said gently. In the flickering light of the single candle behind him, she leaned forward to inspect Taff’s face. “Is that…?”