CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Bereft of a victory in Skylark, Lord Selwyn’s contrition rapidly fades away. I know it’s only a matter of time before he suggests a new plan of aggression and finds a way to manipulate Elvar into giving him permission to put it into effect. Anyone could be his new target. Tamini or Winter, for supporting Alexi. Some other poor territory that he feels must be made an example of. Alexi himself.
It’s unbearable to sit here and wait. Wait to die. Wait for someone to set loose the warship I won for them. Watch as the people I love wait for the days to run out. Max, Rama, and Sybilla all look afraid when they think I’m not watching, and they spend far too much time looking at the clock. I hoped it would help to tell them all the truth, but I just feel worse, because now they have to share my fear. Now they wait for the inevitable with me.
There is not much I can do about the gods’ vision, so I put my mind to the problem of the war. Lord Selwyn has to be stopped.
Unfortunately, I don’t know how to remove him from the equation. Elvar and Guinne would never agree to imprison him or exile him from Kali. And I’m not sure I can bring myself to murder him in cold blood. So what other options are there? What can I possibly do to end this war?
I should have let Elvar die, I tell myself, but there’s no ring of truth to the words anymore. I don’t believe them.
And as it happens, there’s really no better way to gain someone’s trust than to save them.
I sit with Elvar in his private rooms every afternoon as he recovers from the effects of the poison, helping him complete his daily paperwork. He talks to me while we work, telling me more of his fears and hopes than he’s ever shared before.
“He’s coming for me,” he tells me one afternoon. His blindfold twitches. “Alexi. He’ll come sooner or later. And he will kill me. You know about his Golden Bow? It can destroy any enemy. He doesn’t need to touch them. He doesn’t even need to be close. He merely needs to be able to see them.”
“Alexi has far too much honor to use it on you,” I assure him. “He would fight you properly—”
“You haven’t seen the monsters people become when they want something so badly they’ll do whatever it takes to get it. Even Alexi, our brave, honorable Alexi, will lose his better self when what he wants is almost within reach.” Something terribly tired and terribly sad crosses Elvar’s face. “We all do.”
He’s ashamed. He sincerely believes he was unjustly deprived of the crown that should have been his by virtue of his birth, but he’s nevertheless ashamed of what he’s done. His guilt softens the hard edges of my anger.
“Uncle,” I say, “do you remember the soothsayer?”
He looks surprised. “Of course.”
“What did she tell you? What advice could she possibly have given that was worth ten thousand silvers?”
Elvar’s smile is rueful. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. It’s not unusual to hear of a future you want and find yourself terrified you’ll shatter it if you speak it out loud.”
“I understand. Probably better than you know.”
“I’ll make an exception for you, my dear,” he says. “I think you’ll find it interesting. She painted me a picture of my army spread across the galaxy, dismantling my enemies and shattering Alexi. She told me that future wasn’t certain, but it was there. A very real possibility just ahead.”
My fingers clutch the papers in my hand, but I don’t dare breathe lest he hear my horror. Was Kirrin being truthful? He said he never lies. Does that mean Elvar’s victory is really that likely?
“I don’t see how that’s worth ten thousand silvers,” I say when I can finally trust that my voice won’t give me away.
Elvar shakes his head. “It isn’t. She didn’t stop there. She told me that if I wanted to keep the crown and claim that future, I needed to trust you.”
I freeze. “Me?”
“You,” he repeats. “She said, ‘Trust Esmae, and Alexi will break. Trust her even when you fear she’s gone astray. Trust your niece, and she will shatter your enemy for you.’”
I stare at him in stunned silence. Trust your niece, and she will shatter your enemy for you.
“You’re shocked,” he says.
“Yes.”
“I must admit I was, too.” He gives me a fond smile. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I didn’t trust you at first. Selwyn, you see, rightfully pointed out how easy it would be for you to take Titania and leave us for your brother. And you always seemed so suspiciously eager to vote against aggression in the council. I love you dearly, but trust doesn’t come easily to me.”
“I’m not offended, Uncle. I don’t blame you.”
“But then you saved my life and risked your own to pin down that treacherous guard. I can’t fathom why you would do that if not out of loyalty, and I believe now that the soothsayer was right. I trust you. And I believe that if I trust you, you will win this war for me.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Of course not, but a future was seen and I believe I know how to claim that future. You could be an unstoppable force on my side, Esmae. You could even be queen of Kali after I’m gone.”
I wince. “No, I could not. If you love Max at all, Uncle, don’t ever repeat what you just said. I don’t think he wants to be a king, but it would break his heart if you cast him aside. He deserves more than that.”
“Then I will simply put my trust in you,” Elvar says, “and let you play any part you wish.”
I always knew, of course, that Kirrin was a trickster, but I never appreciated just how devious he could be.
Oh, Elvar. You never stood a chance against the god of tricks.
“Thank you for trusting me, Uncle,” I say softly. “I’ll always try to do what’s best for Kali.”
Power is a funny thing. I always imagined it would feel good to have it, since I’d grown up with none, but the power I’ve held by possessing Titania has only made me afraid, and the power I hold in my hands now is jagged with guilt.
I only ever wanted to be master of my own fate, and that’s the one kind of power I don’t seem to have at the moment.
When I leave Elvar’s suite, I go to the gods’ altar in the conservatory and lock the door behind me.
“Kirrin,” I say.
I blink, and he’s there, eyes brimming with mischief. “Hello, Esmae.”
“Funny bit of advice,” I reply. “‘Trust your niece,’ was it? I imagine he’ll find it difficult to do that if I’m dead in a week or so.”
“True. But if you live, you will do exactly what I told him.”
I show my teeth. “Irrelevant if you and Amba have seen my death set in stone.”
“Also true,” he says. His unrepentant grin fades. “Let me be clear, Esmae, I do not take any pleasure in the sad future ahead of you. I’m sorry for my glee. I’m pleased with the trick I played on your uncle, that’s all. I do not rejoice in the idea of your death.”
“You knew I’d find out about this. You knew I would ask him about your advice sooner or later. You knew he would tell me. You must know, then, that I will find a way to use his trust in me in the little time I have left.”
“I had a feeling you were extremely resourceful when I first met you,” says the god smugly. “I’m relying on it.”
I study him, profoundly mistrustful. “What do you hope to gain from this? Why do you want me to have power over Elvar, however briefly? I assume you want me to help Alexi.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted to do the whole time?”
“Yes, but I have no intention of letting you dictate the terms. Elvar ignored your advice until I saved him. I did that, not you.”
Kirrin grins. “Let me reassure you. You are free to do as you wish with this power you have over your uncle. Make the most of it in the little time you have left. All I want from you in return for helping you is a favor.”
“A favor,” I repeat.
“A favor that I will claim from you at some point before you die. One favor. That’s all.”
I consider. “You can’t ask me to hurt anyone.” He nods. “And,” I add, pointedly, “I won’t lose a battle or duel on purpose.”
He looks offended. “I would never ask that of anyone. I don’t hold with cheating.”
“You’re the god of tricks!”
“A trick is fair,” he replies. “Tricks have rules. You can avoid being tricked if you see the trick in time. Cheating breaks rules. As for the matter at hand, I will gladly abide by your conditions. Do you agree to owe me a favor?”
I hesitate, then say, “Yes.”
“Thank you,” says Kirrin. He pauses. “You know, you didn’t have to agree. You could have refused me.”
“I could have, but that wouldn’t have been fair. You’ve helped me, whatever your motives are, so I owe you.”
He smiles and says gently, “Never let anyone make you feel like you are less than Alexi, Esmae. He’s not the only Rey with honor.”
Then he’s gone, and I’m left with the inevitable question. What do I do with this power I have?