Chapter 62
“Easy now!” Berilo warned him, as Arico started to move inside. With surprising speed the old man placed himself in the doorway between them, and held his arms out to keep Arico at bay. “Under the ta’sana, I order you to stand where you are!” His voice was firm but understanding, as if he was talking to a misbehaving pet of some kind.
Grimacing, Arico came to a stop. There were two guards in the room as well, now that he could see to either side of the door. In his current condition, he couldn’t help her. Not without pulling on the threads, and that would ruin his larger plan.
At least Jaas hadn’t been injured as far as he could see. She strained against her bonds and her muffled voice could be heard even through the gag. She didn’t seem to be afraid so much as… determined? That was Arico’s guess, anyway.
Berilo closed the door quickly, blocking sight again. He stepped away from Arico with a look of surprise and concern. “Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it? You can move now, but you will not open that door, understood?”
Arico’s heart was beating fast and his breaths were ragged, but he grudgingly nodded at that. What in the Many was she doing here? She’d been safe—he’d seen to that! “She was found wandering around Krellik patch yesterday afternoon,” Berilo said, glancing back at the door. “At almost the same place she was picked up three months ago, actually. She hasn’t been interrogated, or harmed in any way, if that’s your concern. The Ascendants who arrested her knew enough to treat her very carefully.”
“What do you plan to do with her?” Arico ground out, closing his eyes for a moment. Regardless of the answer, it seemed pretty clear she’d be kept here inside the Spire for the next few days. Which meant if he went forward with his plan, it would mean killing her, too.
“I’m not sure, actually,” Berilo said with a little more confidence. He gestured down the hall, and Arico glumly started moving in that direction. After a few moments he unlocked another door, revealing Pratun inside.
This cell was slightly better furnished, obviously meant for longer stays. Pratun leapt to his feet from the bunk in the corner as soon as he saw Berilo, and then his eyebrows narrowed with confusion upon spotting Arico. “My liege! I am at your serv-” He cut off as Berilo raised a hand to stop him. The old man then closed and locked that door as well.
“Just to show you he’s here, so you can be sure,” he explained as he led the way back up the stairs to the ground level.
For an instant, Arico considered pulling on the threads to kill Pratun right now. He didn’t know which direction they’d come from though, so it might take a few seconds. Besides, even if he succeeded, the Council would know what he could do and they’d never get anywhere near him.
Berilo continued, apparently unaware of Arico’s brief internal struggle. “As for the Harbinger, of course the Council knows she’s here. There was no way to keep a prisoner of her importance secret. They don’t know what to do with her either. Some of them want her killed, some want her kept here as long as she can provide useful information. Some even wanted to parade her in front of the people as some kind of symbolic victory. Since none of them can agree, she’s just being kept here for now. As with Pratun, her ultimate fate will be up to you. After the Twin Suns, that is.”
“Then why gag her?” Arico asked angrily. “I’m sure the guards can be trusted to keep whatever she might say a secret. She’s no navigator, either. There’s no need to restrain her like that!”
Berilo sighed, and gave him a wry look. “I’m not an idiot, Arico. It’s no coincidence that we picked her up in broad daylight in a nearly abandoned patch, mere days before the Twin Suns. Obviously she let herself get captured, probably so that she could get a message to you. I don’t know what she’s planning, but I can’t let it interfere with the ceremony tomorrow. She’ll be kept safe, I promise you.” Clearly unwilling to discuss it further, Berilo turned away and beckoned Arico to follow.
They made their way up two more flights of stairs, and then to a large set of double doors. Arico didn’t recognize them at first, but when Berilo opened them, he knew what he was seeing. These were the Council chambers themselves, looking over the rest of Sevvas patch. Berilo took his seat at the far end of the table and gestured for Arico to sit down as well. From there, Arico could see how the Lord Ascendant was situated compared to the rest of the Council. It was subtle, but it gave an impression of superiority, the way his seat was framed against the backdrop of the window. Any Councilor looking in that direction was also being bombarded with the imagery of the Lord Ascendant supported by the whole city.
“It all comes down to what happens tomorrow, doesn’t it?” Berilo said suddenly. “The Twin Suns have always been important, but this one will be especially so because of you. What you say there, in front of representatives from every single patch, will have lasting repercussions for all of Patchwork.” He smiled slightly. “I’d offer you the services of a speechwriter, if I had the slightest idea what you plan to say.”
“What do you want me to say?” Arico asked, feeling a cold sense of inevitability. Berilo had Jaas. He had Pratun. He knew about Arico’s abilities. At this point, he was practically unassailable. “Let me guess. You want me to go up there on that stage and denounce the dwarves to the crowd. You want me to tell everyone there that I was lying, and then you want me to get on my knees and beg forgiveness for my many crimes?”
Berilo chuckled. “Very dramatic, but not exactly what I had in mind. You see, you know almost everything of importance, but there’s one last secret to tell. Based on your hostility towards me, you clearly don’t know. In fact, this may be the most important revelation I have left for you.”
Despite himself, Arico leaned forward with interest. With everything he’d been told in the past few days, from finding out the real reason behind the Rejoining, to the capture of Pratun and Jaas, to facing the painful truth about the people who had raised him… What could possibly top that?
“What do you know about your mother, Arico?” Berilo asked suddenly, out of the blue. “What did Anathdur’hu tell you?”
“Not much,” Arico said severely. “Just that she was a minor noble who married into your family. That she was a kind soul, who wanted the best for her children. Oh, and that she risked her life to get me and my sister away from you, because she didn’t want them to be raised by a monster!” He shook his head slowly. “If she hadn’t died, then Hazra would have been raised in freedom as well.”
“If she hadn’t died-” Berilo’s voice trembled, and he shot to his feet. “If she hadn’t died, everything would have been different, Arico!”
It was a far cry from his usual calm and detached voice, and it got Arico’s attention. Berilo began pacing in front of the wide city-scape window. “I envy you, you know. You loved Nouma, that much is clear. Perhaps you love the Harbinger too—I don’t know. I married twice: the first time for money and influence, and then I married your mother for her bloodline. I never married for love, though. I hope you get that opportunity. If anyone deserves it, you do.”
He sighed. “Still, Ethelle and I did have a good partnership, even if it was never a loving one. I respected her negotiating skills, and she was happy to use them on my behalf. She was a formidable ally, for the short time she was with us.”
Arico snorted. “You’re delusional. My mother was nothing like you, and she was never on your side. The only reason you think she was is because she wanted you to.”
“It always bothered her, though,” Berilo went on as if Arico hadn’t spoken. “Her family was poor, by nobility’s standards. It irritated her that her dowry had been so meager. She was always striving to make up for it in some way.”
He focused on Arico again. “When you first surrendered to me and told me that you were my son, I believed you right away. I could see that surprised you, but you were getting what you wanted, so you didn’t press the issue. One of the reasons I was so quick to take you at your word was because of what your mother tried to do, years ago.”
Something in his tone gave Arico pause, so he didn’t interrupt again. Durhu had loved his mother deeply, and her death had cut him equally as deep. As such he’d always been hesitant to talk about her. The old man, despite his self-delusion, could at least give Arico another perspective on the late Lady Ethelle.
“When she found out she was expecting, it was a perfect opportunity for her to prove her value to me,” Berilo went on, his eyes and voice both lost in the past. “She came to me and said she had a plan. A weapon of sorts, to use against the Hauld. She would use her contacts and reach out to the Hauld, asking him for sanctuary for her child. He would agree of course, if only to get a chance to use the child against me someday. She would be allowed to visit, in secret, to at least see her baby growing up.”
Berilo paused for a moment, his eyes still lost in the past. “When you were old enough, she would get you to tell her everything about the Enclave, and the keep’s defenses. What the Hauld’s plans were over the long term, which human sympathizers he was meeting with, and where they were being sent—everything. You were meant to be his greatest asset… as well as his greatest weakness at the same time. The information she would have gotten from you would have kept the dwarves from being a serious threat for years to come!”
Arico didn’t know how to respond. It was clearly preposterous. Either Berilo was misremembering things, or he’d lost what little sanity he had left. “I told her no, of course,” the old man went on. “I couldn’t risk my child in that way, no matter how much she wanted to use him as a weapon. I forbade her from reaching out to the Hauld, and that was that—or so I thought. Later, when she found out she was actually carrying twins, she must have decided to go ahead with her plan anyway. It was a chance for her to give me the heir I was expecting and give me the weapon against the dwarves at the same time. All she had to do was manipulate things so that one baby would be sent to the Enclave while the other stayed here.”
He grimaced, looking back at Arico. “I remember the night she went into labor. It was Tenlor who found out first. He was the one who ran down the halls yelling it to everybody. She must have told him so that her servants, Toria and Anathdur’hu, would be unable to spirit both babies away to the dwarves.”
Arico thought back to the letter Durhu had written him, describing all of this. It was true that Tenlor had been the first to find out. Still, the rest was complete nonsense. “You can’t expect me to believe that. My mother was a gentle and kind person. She would never have done anything so cruel or manipulative, and even if she did, Durhu would have told me. He knew her better than anyone!”
“Correction: he loved her more than anyone.” Berilo said harshly. “But she lied to him, Arico. Anathdur’hu is soft-hearted; we both know that. It must have been clear to her that he could never use a child as a weapon, so she tricked him into thinking it was for the child’s benefit! Think about it. You know better than anyone how easily that kind of attraction can overcome a person’s better judgement. You nearly abandoned your role as the Hauld’s agent because of love!”
He finally stopped talking, and Arico just sat back for a moment. Despite himself, he tried to be as emotionless and rational about it as possible as he considered what Berilo was saying. To see his mother with a cold eye, instead of the adoration that Durhu had kept for so long.
Ethelle had been a nobleman’s daughter. She had run her own house for years before being married off to Berilo. As such, lying, tricking people, playing the long game, would have all been things she’d probably been forced to do while in charge. That meant Berilo’s story was plausible, but there wasn’t any proof to it. Any more than there was proof to Durhu’s account, either. Which story was true, then? It seemed unlikely there was any kind of middle ground between the two.
Arico had been raised as the Hauld’s agent—raised to support and grow the movement into something unstoppable. Every decision in his life had been dictated by his upbringing. Even his efforts to improve the lives of the stra’tchi had only been allowed because they indirectly benefited the Hauld. But if Berilo was to be believed, all of that was a lie!
If his mother had actually lied to Durhu and Toria—if she’d actually intended for him to be a weapon—and the only reason he wasn’t was because she’d died in childbirth, then who was he? What was he? Berilo was right: this revelation did top all the others, if it was true.
“So you see, Arico, your speech tomorrow doesn’t need to be an apology, or a request for leniency from the Council. You were born to be a weapon against the Hauld, and that’s all you need to tell them: the truth. Everything else you want—equality for the stra’tchi, an end to corruption among the penets and the Ascendants, an end to the senseless Tumults and the Rejoining itself… all of that can be yours in time! All you have to do is denounce the Hauld and tell the crowd the truth about your origins.”
“Desecrate memories of the dwarves, you mean,” Arico said reflexively, still thinking about his mother.
“The dwarves are all dead and gone, Arico! There’s no harm you can do to them any more than has already been done! There are many people you can still help, though.” Berilo reached out and pulled Arico to his feet. “If you take a stand, most of the movement will follow you. If that stand is against the dwarves, most of the city will follow you as well.’’
Berilo gestured to the door. “The rest of the day is yours to do with as you please. As long as you stay away from the dungeons, you can go wherever you want, even back to Penntu patch if you wish. I let the Chronicler know you might be dropping by.” He paused for a moment. “I am ordering you to come back here before the Twin Suns start, though. Use the time to think, Arico. Think about which of your options does the most good, for the most people.”
-.-
Jaas restlessly paced back and forth in her cell. After Arico’s brief appearance at the door, the guards had removed her restraints. Apparently it was true—Arico had taken a ta’sana oath to the Lord Ascendant. That meant his father-by-blood had some control over him, and could order him to stay away. Apparently they didn’t feel it was necessary to keep her bound after that.
But they still hadn’t let anyone see her. The guards outside hadn’t responded to anything she’d said. Jaas could hear faint voices through the door—shouts from the other prisoners—but she couldn’t make out any of them. She had no way of knowing if the Hauld was in another one of those cells, and no way to talk to him even if she could be sure. Still, that wasn’t why she was here.
Jaas wasn’t used to being unsure of herself. At the beginning, when she’d chosen to enter the city and hadn’t been sure if she’d survive the process, there hadn’t been any hesitation on her part. Later, when she’d found out about the prophecies, she’d been quite sure they were all fraudulent. She’d been right—Cartwright had confirmed it! When she’d chosen to test that near-death potion on herself, there had been no doubt there, either.
Now though, her plans didn’t just involve her alone. There were many other lives depending on this, and Jaas found her usual, quiet certainty much harder to attain. If only they would let her speak with Arico! That would ensure her plans!
Jaas came to a stop. There were soft voices outside, unlike the faint shouts and screams from the other cells. Much closer, too. She tentatively backed away from the door. “As you know, my authority supersedes the Council’s when it comes to criminal investigations,” a voice said clearly despite the closed door. “If you want, I can call the Lord Ascendant down here so he can explain the rules to you personally.”
There was a moment of silence, and then a key ground in the lock briefly and the door opened, admitting a man she’d never seen before. He was simply dressed, in just a brown robe and traveling clothes, and had short black hair coupled with kindly brown eyes. He certainly wasn’t one of the Ascendants, and he didn’t look like most of the Sustained she’d seen, either. Which meant he was most likely-
“Good evening, Harbinger,” he said softly and courteously. “I am the Clarion. I believe we have much to discuss.”
-.-
The sun was lowering in the sky, and Durhu straightened up. There wasn’t much more he could do out here—not until tomorrow. He wiped sweat from his brow—careful to use his uninjured arm, and slowly made his way back to the cabin. Upon arriving, he kicked off his shoes and collapsed into one of the chairs, letting out a sigh. It had been a long time since he’d needed to put in that long of a day at work.
Still, it was necessary. The supplies the Ascendants had left him wouldn’t last forever, and he needed to plant and harvest some kind of crop before the next Ritual of Waters. It was cruel, but even in a patch with only one person, the law was clear. No doubt whichever penet and Ascendant they sent to resupply him would insist on going through the whole ceremony, start to finish, before bringing in the Waters.
On the upside, he was perfectly safe here. The poison had disappeared a long time ago, as long as he was careful where he put his ration of Waters. And being outcast didn’t just mean he was forbidden from leaving Tellek patch. It also meant he was protected from anyone who might want to harm him. No, the Council wanted him to be alive and well for years to come, as a living warning to anyone else who dared defy them.
He stretched slightly and winced. The burn on his shoulder was healing well, thanks to the medicines he’d been able to scavenge from Endu’s home. All the same, it would be sore for a long time. Ruefully, he realized that he now knew what it felt like to be a true stra’tchi, or like Arico. He’d been branded like cattle, for real this time.
Durhu had just finished changing the bandage when the candlelight in the cabin flickered. He glanced at the door, more curious than afraid. Due to his deafness, the candles had been placed in a special frame on both sides of the door. That way he knew whenever someone was knocking. Hesitantly, he unlocked the door and looked outside.
Arico was there, with a tentative smile on his face. His prosthetics were different, but otherwise he looked well enough. Durhu gave him a wide grin and embraced him immediately. He ignored the pain in his own shoulder, but was careful to avoid Arico’s brand.
There was something wrong. Arico hugged him back, but only after a few moments. Durhu looked around and didn’t see anyone else, so he let go and beckoned his son inside. I didn’t expect to see you for at least a week! He signed hurriedly. Are you all right?
“I’m fine,” Arico responded softly. Durhu was a good enough lipreader to tell that he was speaking in a subdued way. Clearly something was on his mind.
Well, come on in, he invited quickly. I was just about to start with dinner. I hope you like vegetable soup, because that’s about all I have for now.
“That’ll be fine, thanks.”
They prepared the meal together, mostly without conversation. Durhu tried not to give his son worried glances as they worked. Whatever it was, Arico would explain when he was ready. At least he was getting more comfortable with his maiming. Durhu saw him hold and actually stir the bowl on his own, just by grasping the spoon between his new prosthetics. Apparently he’d had some practice. He’d never be as capable as he was before, but it was a start.
They ate mostly in silence as well. Arico inquired about his arm, and explained how most of the movement had escaped punishment, but the conversation petered out eventually. Arico seemed to enjoy the meal, despite spilling a few spoonfuls. When he finally sat back and Durhu moved to clear the table, Arico reached an arm out to stop him. “What… do you remember about my mother?” He asked slowly.
Durhu sighed with understanding. So that’s what this was about. It made sense, really. Arico was always thinking about the important day-to-day problems and decisions facing him. Issues that affected hundreds or thousands of lives. That left little or no time to think about his past, or his heritage.
Much, Durhu responded after a moment. My service to her back with House Carver. Her dealings with her brothers, her negotiations with other house ladies and lords. And her husband, of course, he added grimly. Was that what was bothering Arico? Had the Lord Ascendant said something to him to upset him like this?
“Is it true House Carver was poor? At least compared to the other Houses, I mean.”
Durhu nodded. Her grandfather made bad investments here and there, before he died. He squandered their wealth in those last few years. Ethelle complained about it from time to time, because it made running her family affairs more difficult. She always found a way around it, though.
“No kidding,” Arico said, looking back down at the table. “You never really talk about her.”
I know. Durhu looked down for a moment. And I’m sorry. I don’t like thinking about those days, but for your sake, I probably should have spoken about her more often. Toria was always better at that than me. Your mother loved you deeply though, that I know. You and your sister both. She would talk about how she had such great plans for her child—this was before she found out there were two of you on the way. How one day her baby would keep the peace in the city. I still don’t know what she meant by that.
Arico grimaced and looked away. Perhaps he felt he’d let Ethelle down, ever since what had happened at the Fishbowl, and from what Durhu had heard—the keep itself.
What is this all about, anyway? Durhu finally asked. Why ask about your mother now, when she’s been gone for so long? Have you found something out, about her or her family?
Arico opened his mouth for a moment, and then closed it. He smiled over at Durhu. “No, it’s nothing,” he said reassuringly. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
Durhu glanced out the window. It’s getting dark. Do you want to stay here for the night? I could use the company.
“No, I should probably be getting back.” his son said, though Durhu could make out a trace of regret in his face. “Besides I’ve still got some things to do, and tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.” He paused. “The busiest day, actually.”
He reached out to grab his plate, fumbled with it for a moment, and then grimaced when Durhu picked it up. I’ll take care of that. You go on.
Durhu went to the door with Arico. Before his son left, though, Durhu reached out and hugged him again. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow at the Twin Suns, he signed after letting go, but I’m sure it’s important. I’m glad you’re here, though. I got the chance to tell you how proud I am of you—of the man you’ve become, and the symbol you’ve become to the stra’tchi and to the city. Whatever happens tomorrow, I trust you, and the decisions you make.
Arico gave a slight smile, and wiped at the corner of his eye for a moment. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you for that, father.” He backed out of the door. “I will get you out of here and back to civilization as soon as I can. Until then, sleep well, all right?” He paused for another moment, and then straightened up as if reaching some hidden conclusion, and disappeared into the darkness.
-.-
By the time he got back to the Manor, Arico had made up his mind. If Berilo was right and Jaas had intended to be captured, it was imperative that he speak to her. Even if it meant breaking the ta’sana and risking being caught. Breaking the oath didn’t bother him very much—he had planned on taking his own life soon anyway—but being caught doing so was worrisome. If anyone saw him down there, they’d try to kill him on the spot. Even if they failed, it would mean the end of his plan.
Still, Jaas was no fool. She was back for a reason, and he had to know what that reason was. Part of him actually resented her for messing with his plans so thoroughly. Also for wasting the sheer effort Endu had put in to making that elixir in the first place. And for worrying him like this, come to think of it!
Distracted as he was, Arico almost missed the presence of another person in his room as he stepped inside and clumsily pulled the door shut. It was the Clarion, actually. “Hello, Arico,” the young man greeted him, bowing slightly. “I’ve been looking forward to finally speaking with you in person.”
“I feel honored,” Arico said hesitantly, not knowing quite what else to say. His earlier plan to alert the Clarion to the truth about the Ritual of Rejoining flashed back into his mind. Jaas’ reappearance had pushed it aside in his mind for a moment, but it remained important nonetheless. Unfortunately the book had been returned to Penntu patch, and it was unlikely the Clarion would be allowed in to see it.
It seemed the Clarion had other things on his mind, though. He looked distractedly out the window and then at the door, as if expecting people to burst in on them. Finally he focused his attention back on Arico, and gave a slight smile. “Please sit down,” Arico said awkwardly, gesturing to the chairs by the far wall.
The Clarion did so, still smiling, and Arico followed suit. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to thank you for some time,” he said in a soft voice. “Your words at the Laentana were most inspiring. Not only did they allow me to expose and punish corruption, but thanks to you, I’ve been able to put the fear of Aquun back into the hearts of some of the most rich and powerful within the city. It seems that even without knowing it, we made a good team.”
Arico wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, he’d played his part back there, but punishing the late High Penet had barely even been on his list of priorities at the time. He was pleased the Clarion had benefited from the whole thing, but Arico couldn’t really take any credit for it. “What brings you here to see me, Clarion?”
The Clarion tilted his head slightly. “Straight to business, then? Very well, I can appreciate that.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve come bearing a message for you. From the Harbinger. Or Jaas, if you prefer.”
He’d heard from Jaas? Arico leaned forward with interest. “I’m not quite sure what you mean,” he said carefully, despite that.
The Clarion just stared at him for a moment, before smiling again. “There’s no point in denying anything. I know she’s in the Spire dungeons, right now. I got word almost as soon as the Lord Ascendant did. And yes, he did order her cell off limits to everyone, but the guards made an exception for me. I spoke with her briefly, and she asked me to relay a message to you.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Arico said wryly. “You may live like a priest, but people do like you enough to tell you things. In a way, you’re more like a spy than any religious figure I know. All right, I’ll bite. What’s her message?”
The Clarion raised a hand briefly. “Not so fast. My cooperation in this matter has a price, and before I tell you anything I need to know that you’re willing to pay it.” He paused for a moment, looking pained. “It has to do with Hazra, actually.”
“I know she’s your sister,” he went on before Arico could respond. “She told me about your origins, and how the Lord Ascendant was unaware of you. Until recently, anyway.” He glanced out the window towards the Spire. “How long you can keep the secret from the Council, though… well, that’s anyone’s guess.”
Arico shook his head. He didn’t know why Berilo hadn’t told anyone else either, but he wasn’t complaining. If the Council found out, it might scare some of them off, and he had to get them all in one place at the same time for this to work. That left an interesting question, though. How much else had Hazra told the Clarion?
“I know there’s no excuse for what she’s done,” the Clarion went on slowly, as if answering his unspoken question. “The people she’s killed—the chaos she’s caused. How many children has she left fatherless, I wonder?”
Arico’s jaw dropped. “Wait—you know what she’s done? You know that she’s Heartbane?”
The Clarion nodded. “She told me a long time ago. I’ve been helping her keep it a secret ever since.”
This was unbelievable! All this time, Arico had just assumed she’d been keeping the Clarion in the dark! He stood up suddenly, and started pacing back and forth, now grateful that the door was closed. “But you’re the Clarion!” He interjected desperately. “You’re supposed to be this bastion of truth and justice—an example to the entire city! How could you know, and not do anything? Not say anything? By Aquun—you executed a High Penet for killing those two boys, and she’s killed far more than that!”
At first the Clarion didn’t respond. He just slumped in his chair, looking despondently around the room. “I may be the Clarion, but I’m still human. Tell me, would you do any differently in my position? If you found that the woman you love more than anything was actually a mass murderer, could you bring yourself to expose her? Knowing it would most likely mean a mob burning her at the stake, or stoning her to death?”
Arico wondered how he would have reacted if Nouma had told him something like that. Or if Jaas had, for that matter. Reluctantly, he nodded. “I… understand,” he said finally. “I’m not sure if I could have done the same, but I do get it.”
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” The Clarion said in the same desolate voice. “I’m paying for my sins all the same.” He looked back up at Arico. “You’ve spoken with her several times now, in the sha’haln and in the waking world. Tell me, have you noticed anything unusual about her? Did she seem well, during your conversations?”
Arico thought back. “She did seem a bit strange when we first had a chance to talk. Something about her was off, but I didn’t really know what it was. Not that I’m in a position to judge, mind you. I just figured it was her way.”
“It is her way—but it wasn’t always so. Hazra is unwell, you see. In the head. There are, I suppose you could say two women within her. One is the kind and mischievous woman I was bonded to. The other is the cold-blooded killer who tried to put an end to you. It’s impossible to say which one is in control at any given time. I’ve learned to speak carefully, lest I anger the killer, or upset Hazra.”
Well, that was surprising. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that. Arico had heard of people with strange and broken minds before. Usually it was the result of some horrible tragedy in their past such as with Codi, but not always. “Why are you telling me all of this, Clarion?”
“Because I’m dying,” the Clarion said bluntly. “I have two or three weeks left, at most, and I want to make sure she has someone to take care of her after I’m gone. Someone who knows who and what she is.”
For maybe the billionth time since entering the room, Arico again didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” he managed softly. “I had no idea.”
“There’s no reason you should,” the Clarion shrugged. “I’ve kept it secret as best I can. I’ve known for some time now, and there’s nothing to be done about it.”
“But what if there is? Something that we can do, I mean,” Arico said intensely. “Jaas—err, the Harbinger, told me about medical marvels they can do on the Outside. She mentioned curing diseases and injuries, instantly and completely. Apparently they could even restore my hands if they wanted to!” He raised his wrists for emphasis.
The Clarion’s eyes narrowed. “Do you believe her?”
“She has no reason to lie! We’ve already proven that people can leave the city safely—well, not entirely safely,” he amended. “I’m just saying there may be hope. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to make sure of it before I start courting the Shemra and writing up my final farewells.”
For a few moments the Clarion just stared at him, as if trying to gauge him somehow. “Would such… miracles extend to someone who has been poisoned?”
Arico paused. “Maybe. I would assume so, anyway. Is that what happened to you?” He asked hesitantly.
The Clarion nodded. “It’s been done for weeks, most likely in my food. I suspect one or more of the Councilors are responsible. They have plenty of reason to want me dead these days. Still, I have no proof, and little time to try and find some.” He sighed. “I have no desire to die, Arico, but I can’t rely on some miracle suddenly becoming available to me. If a cure presents itself, I will take advantage of it, but until then I must continue doing what is best for the city. And what is best for my consort.”
That at least Arico could understand. His own limited lifespan had given him a slightly better perspective on how to spend one’s last days. A pity his own countdown had been so turbulent, because of Berilo and what he’d been saying. “So, you want me to look after Hazra after you’re gone, is that it? To keep her out of trouble as best I can?”
“Not exactly,” the other said slowly. “I need you to promise to stop her if necessary. If she loses control. Without me, she may lose whatever part of herself that is still my consort. If that happens, no one in the city will be safe from her. If that happens she will be killed. But not before killing a great many others herself.”
Arico raised his stumps again. “What can I do? Even when I had my hands I was no match for her.”
“Yes, she told me,” the Clarion said with an understanding smile. “I’m not suggesting you fight. I’m asking you to just be there for her. You’re her twin—if anyone can get through to her in the worst times, it’s you. You have similar abilities, which means she can’t escape you if she tries to run. And even though we’ve been on opposite sides, I do trust that you want what’s best for her, and for the city.”
Arico opened his mouth in further protest. It was true he was getting better at pulling on the threads, but he still had no idea how to track people through them like Hazra could! They might have similar abilities due to their bloodline, but she’d been practicing with them for a lot longer than he had.
Still, even as those concerns tried to spill their way out of him, he suddenly realized it didn’t matter. He would do his best to look after Hazra, even without the Clarion’s request. It was a sure thing, and it had been a sure thing ever since he’d first taken off her mask. “You have a deal,” he said firmly. “I swear that if you should die, I will make every effort to protect Hazra. If necessary, from herself.” Then he paused. “But I don’t want you to give up hope, either. Remember what I said about the Outside. You may still be able to look after her yourself.”
“I won’t forget,” the Clarion said gravely, standing and heading for the door.
Arico wanted to stop him and tell him the truth about the Rejoining, but it didn’t much matter anymore. Even if he believed Arico, there was no proof. Without evidence, the poisoning would kill him long before he could convince anyone else. If he was cured though, Arico could tell him then.
The Clarion looked outside briefly, and then nodded. “Very well. As agreed, here is the Harbinger’s message.” He took a deep breath. “Arico, don’t go ahead with your plan. I have a better one, and you need to do nothing until after the Twin Suns. Trust me.”
He paused again, and shrugged. “I have no idea what it means, but I assume you do. Good luck, not-quite-a-heretic. I will see you tomorrow.”
