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“You hurt any of them,” I say softly, voice shaking, “and on my oath, I will burn you and the Anguis to the ground. No matter the cost.”
It’s such a slap in the face that I can’t contain my visceral reaction. My breath shortens and I can feel blood rushing to my face, unable to stop noting every gory detail.
I don’t think I can do this. I can’t keep up the façade, not here. My breath comes in gasps, then sobs. I bury my head between my knees, hands clasped over the back of my head, and close my eyes.
“Finally,” she murmurs, and leans in again.
“It’s truly you, isn’t it?” He looks at me as if seeing a ghost. Which, in many ways, I suppose he is.
“There is no form of government that is immune from mistakes or from corruption—but it is the Hierarchy’s foundation, Son. Never forget that.”
I take my time. Savour the meal, the view. The feeling of being among my people again. The sun sets, spraying purple and gold across the sky.
“What are you doing?” Belli mumbles, maintaining a façade of calm. She moves again, giving me an out. I don’t take it. “Showing you what consequences look like.”
Then I turn the corner, and see Belli’s torn body.
THE BURNING SENSATION WANES, TOO slowly, so much so that I’m not sure when it actually ends and becomes simply a memory that makes me twitch in place.
There are lines, etched into my skin. I feel a chill as I wipe away more blood. The red, puffy cuts form a single word. WAIT
“Complete the journey, Warrior.”
“One last piece of advice, young man,” he says quietly. “You should prepare yourself to lose that arm. None of us get out without scars.”
I turn to see Emissa standing there, a short, dripping obsidian blade in her trembling hand. Her eyes are black.
I toss a small piece to Diago, who’s still lying by the river. He ignores it. I glare at him. He ignores me.
Today is my eighteenth birthday. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TIME Callidus dies.
It’s only when I’m excitedly relaying the fact that I can see the Academy up ahead that I realise there’s no rise and fall to his chest. I push on, even as my vision starts blurring. I don’t know what else to do.
I lay Callidus gently on the stone at Veridius’s feet. Meet his gaze, then Emissa’s stunned, horrified one. Put all my venom into my voice, keeping it low so that only they two can hear. Blood coats every part of my skin. I must look a nightmare made flesh. “I’m going to make sure you burn for this.”
As the last light of afternoon fades from the quadrum, with the last of my strength, I slam the golden pyramid into place on Jovan’s chest.
I wanted him to be alive. To be real. I wanted it more badly than anything I have ever wanted. The realisation breaks something in me. I shake with sobs.
“I’m so alone,” I whisper to him. I feel the words with all my hopeless heart.
“I am so glad I got to see you again. Even if it is too short. Even if it ends up being the last time.” His voice cracks a little. Aching. “I love you, Diago. I love you, Son. Never forget that.”
“Don’t go.” I know he’s not real, but I can’t help myself.
“We’re out of time. You’re going to need to trust me, Vis. Things are about to get very complicated. Tell the committee you want to join Religion. That you want to be an Imperator under Magnus Tertius Pileus. This isn’t anything to do with politics.”
“He didn’t want to come.” I admit the miserable words to the silence. “Yes, he did.” Quiet and calm. Sure. “I tried to save him.” My voice cracks. “I tried, Eidhin.” “I know.” No judgment. No blame.
“Death is only meaningless if it does not change us, Vis.”
All I have to do is say I want to take up a post with the embassy to Jatiere.
But if I do that, nothing will change.
“I want to work for the Censor.” There’s dead silence.
The table next to my bed holds a lamp, a jug of water and mug, and what looks like a toy ship.
The carving’s not unskilled, but far from the work of an artist. Just about right for a ten-year-old boy trying to impress his father.
THE BURNING SENSATION WANES, TOO slowly, so much so that I’m not sure when it actually ends and becomes simply a memory that makes me twitch in place.
SEALED AGAINST THE TOOLS OF THE ENEMY AFTER THE RENDING. THE PASSAGE TO LUCEUM REQUIRES A TOLL TO ENSURE VALIDITY.
“Traveller. Traveller, stay with us.” The man with the red beard is cradling my head. He’s talking in rough Vetusian. “The other from your world will be coming.”
THE BURNING SENSATION WANES, TOO slowly, so much so that I’m not sure when it actually ends and becomes simply a memory that makes me twitch in place.
“Welcome to Obiteum, Vis. Did Veridius send you?”
“My name is Caeror. I don’t know how much you know, but we have about two minutes to save you back in Res. So you need to trust me, and come out of there now.”
“Good. The first thing we need to do is get a message to you in Res, so you don’t move out of the gate just yet.”
“Pull back your sleeve, Vis.”
