by Will Wight
Bliss flapped her hands at him. “Wait, wait, no! Don’t ask that yet!”
He glanced around the room to see if he’d missed something.
“Just a few more seconds…”
He stood in silence.
“Now, go!”
“When are the others due to—”
The door opened and General Teach stuck her head in. Her helmet hung from her belt, revealing her pale hair cut close to her scalp. She stared at him as though she intended to execute him, but that was how she looked at everyone.
“Guild Heads Bennett and Kern have arrived. Is everything secure?”
Her blue eyes moved to Bliss as the Blackwatch Head pushed down something trying to escape from inside her coat. “We are safe, Jarelys, thank you.”
Calder got the distinct impression that Teach was checking to see whether Calder was still safe from Bliss, but she still nodded and opened the door wider.
Cheska Bennett, Head of the Navigator’s Guild, strolled in with hands in her pockets. Her frizzy red hair was kept back by a blue bandana, and she wore a rumpled white shirt beneath a green jacket two sizes too big for her. Her sleeves were folded back to the elbow. She gave Calder a cocky grin, but a professional nod to Bliss.
Without a word, she tossed herself down on a nearby couch, propping her boots up on the armrest.
She was followed in by Baldezar Kern, Head of the Champion’s Guild. The man was about Calder’s height but noticeably broader, his massive chest and muscles straining at the buttons of his dark shirt. His black hair was winged with silver, and he strode in with a stoic expression.
His menacing demeanor was undermined by the child attached to his leg.
A girl of about three or four clung to his shin like a monkey to a branch. She wore a simple dress and long, dark curls, and she kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut. He continued walking as though she didn’t exist.
Calder extended his hand, which the Champion shook. “Guild Head Kern, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think you have a stowaway.”
Kern nodded grimly. “She placed me under house arrest.”
“Then you’re in violation of your sentence.” Calder slowly lowered himself to crouch next to the girl, who turned her face away. “What’s your name, madam?”
“Lily,” came the muffled reply.
“Lily is my youngest daughter,” Kern said, and at last Calder saw the hint of a weary smile. “I told her that I was going to work whether she let go or not, but I don’t think she believed me.”
“Do you like candy, Lily?” They had a wide selection of treats in storage, for the entertainment of guests.
Lily turned back to him and cracked one eye. But the eye hurriedly widened and she shut it again.
Calder looked to his right to see Bliss crouching next to him, her eyes wider than the child’s.
“How old is she?” Bliss asked in awe.
“Four.”
“Four. And she’s still so small.” Bliss extended a finger as though to poke the girl, but Kern pulled his leg back.
“She’ll get bigger.” Gently, as though handling a glass sculpture, Kern peeled his daughter off his leg and held her in front of him. She refused to look at him.
“I have to go to work now. If you wait outside with Zaria, these people will bring you anything you want to eat. Anything at all.”
Lily peeked at Calder, who nodded. Bliss saw him nodding and joined him.
The girl considered for a moment, then tapped her father’s wrist. He lowered her to the ground, where she ran off. Teach opened the door for her, but halfway to the door Lily paused, then scurried back and gave her father’s leg a quick hug. Then she ran back through the open door, where a grandmotherly woman with her hair in a bun was waiting with hands on hips.
Kern let out a sigh. “Kids. You know how they can be.”
Calder looked around the room. Cheska looked embarrassed, Teach mournful, and Bliss was openly shaking her head. He and Jerri had never wanted children, and none of the other three had ever married.
“We’ve spent more time with Elderspawn than human children,” Calder remarked, clapping the man on the shoulder. He’d felt softer boulders.
“They have more in common than you’d think.” The Champion grabbed a chair in each hand, placing them side-by-side and sitting on them both. They still creaked under his weight. Urzaia had been much taller than the Guild Head, but Calder was reminded of the times he’d sat on a barrel or crate and the planks had splintered under his weight. Champions were always heavier than they looked.
“That’s enough about Kern’s Elderspawn,” Cheska said. She pulled out a folded paper and waved it in the air. “We’re here to talk about this.”
It was a news-sheet, and though Calder could only see half the headline, he knew what it said. “REGENTS BACK DOWN! EMPIRE TO BE UNIFIED!” It was the talk of the Empire; since the battle of the Gray Island, the Regents had made several statements indicating that they would be willing to entertain negotiations.
If Calder and The Testament had managed to track down the Consultants and their ship, the Imperialist Guilds would be in an even better position, but he had been unable to chase far into the magical fog of Bastion’s Veil. And once they had spotted Estyr Six flying in, he and the others had decided to cash out and return to port.
General Teach now leaned against the inside of the door as though bracing it against an expected attack. “They want peace. Of course they do. We have the upper hand.”
Calder walked over to a chair opposite Kern, but Bliss stayed crouched on the ground where she’d greeted Lily. “I do not like the idea of reconciliation, but my motivations are primarily personal.” She considered that for a moment. “…yes, I’d say I’m motivated mostly by my desire to see Nathanael Bareius surrender. If I set that aside, I would be willing to work with the Regents and Independent Guild Heads for the sake of suppressing the Elders.”
Cheska eyed Bliss. “Well, that’s one vote.”
Calder looked back out to the sky, where the dark hairline fracture was visible even in the bright of day. He preferred it when clouds covered it up. “Have we made any progress on the crack in the sky?”
When no one answered him, he took that as his answer. “Then we need the Regents.”
“We can’t trust them,” Teach put in.
“We can’t trust the Regents?” Kern asked. “If Estyr Six isn’t loyal to the Empire and the human race, no one is.”
“How can you call splitting up the Empire loyalty?”
Cheska stretched across the length of the couch. “It’s all about the terms. Now that we’ve got the upper hand, we should be able to squeeze them for something good.”
“Too dangerous,” Teach said firmly. “The Regents aren’t the only ones we’re dealing with. I know the Consultants’ new Guild Head, and we may as well grab a snake by the tail as squeeze her for benefits.”
That was news to Calder. “You know her?”
He had heard, of course, that the Consultants had appointed a Guild Head. There was historical basis for it; many classical historians had referred to a singular Guild Head of the Consultants, and Calder had assumed her modern nomination was an attempt to add legitimacy to their Guild during a crisis.
But he hadn’t heard who it was.
Teach wore a sour look. “So do you. Shera of the Gardeners.”
Calder’s stomach tightened, and his memory treated him to the sight of a black-haired woman pulling a shining emerald dagger out of Urzaia’s chest. A green light hung in the air, the product of her Soulbound power.
A power that reminded him of Jerri’s. They were different shades of green, and Jerri’s powers were more flames than hazy lights, but he had more than once tried to draw a line between the two Soulbound in his mind.
Of course, no matter how little he trusted Shera, he was certain she wasn’t working with the Sleepless.
Calder’s dream of peace wavered. “Will she consider a treaty at all?
” His impression of Shera was of a remorseless living weapon dedicated solely to accomplishing her objective, but he had made a connection with her partner Meia.
And had been close to a deal with the Gardener Lucan before Jerri ruined everything.
“She will consider it,” Teach said. “But she doesn’t keep her word.” Her blue eyes flashed hot, as though she remembered some pain in her past. “We will need to force her to hold to the treaty, or we can never trust the Consultants as long as she is their Head.”
Cheska spoke up from the couch. “We can make that happen. We tie her up in agreements until she can’t ignore us without losing her allies and the support of the Council of Architects. I know a Soulbound who can write mesmerizing contracts.”
Calder gathered himself up, looking over the four Guild Heads. He was supposed to be leading these people. None of them expected him to do so, they only wanted him to represent their interests and serve as a figurehead, but he could embrace that. Make it real.
“We will pursue a peace treaty,” he said, projecting unassailable confidence. “It’s foolish to continue squabbling among humanity while the Elders gather overhead.”
Kern glanced at him, then back at the floor. Bennett gave a microscopic shrug, as though acknowledging that he had said something to consider. Teach didn’t look at him at all.
Bliss still crouched on her heels in the middle of the floor, chewing on her thumbnail. “Bareius also cannot be trusted. He will twist our words in order to make the most money. I am biased, but I do know him well.”
Calder tried again. “We don’t have to trust them, but we have to pursue a working relationship. It’s with them or with Kthanikahr.”
He evoked the Great Elder’s name in order to scare them, but Kern only held out a hand as though to tell him to settle down.
“The cornerstone of any agreement will be the Regents,” the Champion said. “We will rely on them to hold the Guild Heads in line.”
“Then how do we stop them from taking over?” Teach asked.
“How are we stopping them now?”
It was the nightmare of all the Imperialists that the Regents might fly in and destroy them at any moment. They had only speculation why it hadn’t happened already; for one thing, the Regents had all expressed reluctance to lead the Empire. Maybe they were holding themselves back.
Calder believed that the ancient Soulbound were being cautious. They were powerful, certainly, but that didn’t mean they could ignore several powerful Guild Heads and a collection of Champions.
He had plenty of time to consider his personal beliefs in silence as the Guild Heads continued the discussion without him.
He’d known what he was signing up for when he allowed the Guild Heads to use him as a banner despite his relative lack of influence, but them openly ignoring him was starting to ignite his anger.
As Sadesthenes had once written, “A true leader’s words are not easily ignored.”
Or as Estyr Six had put it, hundreds of years ago: “If you’re not giving the orders, you’re not the one in charge.”
“I don’t know that I can meet face-to-face with the Regents,” Calder said. “I’ve had my share of…dark dealings.” He focused on not rubbing his forearm, where Kelarac’s six-fingered handprint was burned into his skin.
The Guild Heads looked to him, then one by one dismissed him.
“With Elders?” Cheska said with a snort. “I’d like to see them find a single Navigator who hasn’t.”
Teach glared at him. “Keep it to yourself.”
Bliss examined the back of her fingernails as though checking to see which she should chew next. “I have one of Tharlos’ bones in my pocket. You have an Elder chained to the bottom of your ship. A ship you stole from us, by the way. I worked very hard on that ship.”
She glared at him, though it had happened eleven years ago.
Kern laced blunt fingers together. “If the Regents can Read shady backgrounds, I’d say we’re all in trouble.”
“Do you think they can see into our pasts?” Bliss asked curiously. “I don’t imagine that would be very pleasant for them.”
Calder wasn’t sure it was possible to overestimate the Regents. He had something of a reference for the Emperor’s powers from the Imperial relics he had Read in his past, and the Regents were supposed to be his peers. Especially Estyr, who was held up in both myth and history as the Emperor’s equal.
“Whether they can or not, anyone in the same room with them is at risk,” Teach said. “We’ll have to hold some Guild Heads in reserve or find a way to meet with only one Regent at a time.”
Calder hadn’t seen the moment when the momentum of the conversation shifted, but it had. They were suddenly talking as though the peace meeting was a foregone conclusion.
He had gotten what he wanted, but not due to anything he’d done. They saw him as a mask they could wear.
“Trenches are dug one shovel at a time.” Laius the Younger.
Calder pulled out his spyglass and took another look at the coronation. His body double had taken up a seat on a prop throne—he could see only the man’s ornately covered knees—and a spokesman for the Imperialists had taken center stage, addressing the audience in his name.
The people gathered below would see Imperial Steward Calder Marten sitting silently in the background as the Guilds spoke for him.
And so, Calder thought, art imitates reality.
It took all of Calder’s authority to get someone to bring Jerri to him.
He ordered the Imperial Guard to fetch her from the dungeons, but at first they flat-out refused. He had to strong-arm them with threats of reporting them to Teach or reassigning them before they would listen to him.
Even then, they insisted on precautions. Calder didn’t object.
She would be searched in the dungeons to make sure no Elders had spirited her earring to her. Imperial Guards with enhanced senses would search her for any weapons or alchemy while Readers checked her for dangerous invested items.
Her hands and ankles would be tied with invested silk, as was the custom for noble prisoners in the Imperial Palace. Her skin wouldn’t be damaged, but she wouldn’t be able to fight.
As though Calder couldn’t defend himself from an unarmed Soulbound without her Vessel.
Thinking of Calder’s defense brought to mind the preparations the Guard had insisted on for himself. He was made to wear the Emperor’s armor and carry a weapon, and there would be two Imperial Guards inside the room and two outside. They carried whistles that could be used to start a chain of signals that would reach General Teach in minutes.
Gas would be pumped into the room at the first sign of trouble, and Calder and his Guards were injected with the antidote before the meeting began. Jerri could be rendered unconscious in four or five seconds while Calder would walk out unscathed.
He wondered if the real Emperor had to put up with any of this.
The first Emperor, Calder corrected himself. I’m the second.
But how convincing was that if he couldn’t even remember it himself?
The sitting-room for receiving prisoners was lavishly appointed, with luxuriously soft chairs and couches, priceless art in gilded frames on the walls, plush carpet, and even a gurgling fountain in the corner. He found himself pricing the decorations until Jerri was marched in.
Either the Imperial Palace dungeons had been treating her well or they had cleaned her thoroughly for this audience. She looked rested, her caramel skin smooth, her chestnut hair long and glossy.
His heart ached when he saw her, the anger and pain of betrayal rising to match it.
She wore a simple blue-and-white dress, tattoos rising up the left side of her neck and up her jawline. Besides the dress, she also wore a mask of hurt and anger so tightly that he could read nothing else in her expression. Her teeth were clenched, her lips pressed together in a line, and she glared at him as though she expected him to order her torture.
It hurt hi
m in half a dozen different ways. He wanted to break that ice, to make her happy again, but at the same time how dare she act as though he was the one in the wrong?
As she sat wordlessly in a chair opposite him, her spine straight as a ship’s mast, he could tell that she was determined to make this conversation unproductive for him.
He could be satisfied with that. He didn’t even know why he’d called for her.
Her hands were folded in her lap, wrists tied gently together in red silk. He was sure that beneath the hem of her dress, her ankles were tied in the same manner.
Calder waved a hand to the two Imperial Guards who had taken up positions on either side of the door after delivering the prisoner. “You’re dismissed. I will be fine.”
They pretended not to hear him.
“Trust me, I can defend myself from her. I know you’ll be watching from outside anyway, I just want the illusion of privacy.”
No response.
Even in front of Jerri, they couldn’t even feign respect for him or his orders?
Calder rose to his feet. He was wearing the Emperor’s white armor from the neck down, the cutlass he’d received from Kelarac belted onto his waist, and he wore the silver crown of the Imperial Steward on his head. He had hoped that would reinforce to Jerri that he was in charge here, but this display from his guards would show her that was a lie.
Calder walked so close to the two Guards that his nose was almost touching one woman’s tusks. She exchanged glances with her partner before they reluctantly looked him in the eyes.
“Listen to me,” Calder said quietly. “You have just undermined my authority in front of an Imperial prisoner.”
“When it comes to your safety—” began a man with scaled arms, but Calder overrode him.
“I have no intention of stopping you from doing your job, but in return, you need to allow me to do mine. Now get out of this room before I have to remove you myself.”
They backed up, looked to one another, and finally bowed at the waist before leaving the room.
Suddenly exhausted, Calder strolled around and collapsed back into his chair.
He held his head in his hands. He couldn’t bear to see the laughter on Jerri’s face. He would hear it any second now anyway, as she twisted this to show that he should have listened to her from the beginning.