City of Whispers, page 19
part #1 of The Famine Cycle Series
I exchanged an astonished look with Xaron. It was a boon I hadn't dreamed of receiving, and one that we sorely needed. "Thank you, Archon. We very much appreciate it."
He smiled thinly. "It is for my convenience as well as yours. I wish to have my Finches at my disposal. Besides, keeping you within Wreath boundaries limits the number of eyes and ears who know that I use you."
Once again, cold clarity reasserted itself. Now that at the Archon had us, he wouldn't easily let go. We were in a cage still, if more comfortable than the palace's dungeons. And here I'd been thinking Jaxas Wreath was a kind man.
The Archon turned away to look out over the sea, and with a nod at Xaron, we stepped up next to him. Though he was surrounded by people, I had the sense that Jaxas was far away and alone. And as I contemplated his position, I remembered my own. An unforeseen windfall had appeared to me, it was true enough. But as long as Linos was in the hands of the Manifest and the mystery of Thero's death went unsolved, I had no right to any measure of elation.
"Do you believe in the Pyrthae?" the Archon asked suddenly. "That it exists?"
I raised an eyebrow as I looked up. "Of course. We see it in the sky above."
He waved a hand dismissively. "There are other explanations for the radiant winds than a haven for lost spirits. At another time, I might recommend texts on it. But even without skepticism, I find myself hesitant to believe in it. Believing in things immaterial… It can cause a great deal of trouble."
In my experience, such statements were often said by those troubled by things immaterial. But I knew when to hold my tongue.
He looked to me, expression soft as the high tide shore. "Bring me more than immateriality to fret over."
I nodded, unsure whether it was a command or a plea.
He turned back to the gardens. "Ah. The last of our Finches has returned to the roost."
I tried to hide my surprise as I looked around. Standing on the tier above us were two familiar figures. Nomusa stared down at us with a somber expression, while Low Consul Feiyan wore a self-possessed smile.
"The other two of our new Verifiers, I see," Feiyan said with calculated derision. "When the Archon is finished with you, I'd like to have a word. I believe we have a few matters to settle."
I didn't look at Feiyan, but at my friend standing beside her. Nomusa stared back, her expression flat and unreadable. She and I had worked together for nine years and lived together for nearly as long. Yet I couldn't help but wonder if all the lies between us had finally caught up to us.
14
Truth’s Cost
Clepsammia is eighth of the Eidola, the daughter of Tyurn Sky-Sea by his infidelity with one of the deep-dwelling Sandwatchers. Nearly from birth, she was given Telae's Sandglass, and put in charge of keeping the time of our world flowing at a steady grain. One of two deities born of another race, Clepsammia has ever been an outcast.
It is uncertain if it was her position or her origins that gives her such a unique insight into the streams of time. By turning her sandglass, she may visit any epoch of the world that has occurred or is still to come. Yet though she possesses unique knowledge, the Keeper of Time has in most of our stories contented herself with little more than the occasional enigmatic warning. Only in one tale did she do more, when she tried turning her father away from the mistake that would lead to his demise…
- The Traditions of the Eleven: Eidolan worship in the demotism of Oedija; by Oracle Iason of deme Iris; 1164 SLP
"Airene of Port," Feiyan said sweetly as she started down the stairs toward the Archon, Xaron, and myself. Nomusa followed in her wake.
"Feiyan," I said flatly, refusing to acknowledge her title. I didn't pull my gaze away from Nomusa. "What were you two discussing?" I addressed my loftmate.
Nomusa's mouth tightened. "What we were forced to."
"Yes, she was quite forthcoming with information." The Low Consul turned her smile on the Archon. "Perhaps we should have a discussion later. I believe I could tell you many things you'll be interested to hear."
Jaxas gave her a stiff bow. "I would be happy to hear anything you might have to say."
I wondered briefly at their relationship. With both of them bonded tightly to the Despoina, they were bound to have regular interactions. And if this occasion were any sign, they weren't on the friendliest of terms. But that was a matter for another time. "Archon Jaxas, if would you excuse us, I'd like to talk over what we discussed with our associate."
He frowned, but after a moment's consideration, he nodded. "Of course. The Low Consul and I should converse before our Council meeting. We will speak more this evening. We each have more to say, I do not doubt."
I bowed deeply as I struggled for a response. I wasn't sure I should feel the depth of gratitude that I did for a man I barely trusted, much less express it. So I simply said, "Thank you, Archon."
As Jaxas nodded his dismissal, I took hold of Xaron and pulled him unceremoniously to the side. Nomusa frowned, but followed as we moved to another corner of the garden, sheltered from sight and sound by a laurel hedge and a glittering fountain.
As soon as we were alone, I rounded on Nomusa. "What did you tell her?"
Nomusa crossed her arms. "What I thought would keep us out of danger."
Xaron paled, but his expression remained determined as he asked in a low voice, "You didn't compromise us, did you?"
"How could it be I who compromised us?" Nomusa demanded in return. "Was it I who ignored her threats? One of us had to do something, or Feiyan would have done worse than sack Canopy."
I gritted my teeth, but held back my acid thoughts. "So you went to talk to her."
Her eyes blazed as she met my gaze. "Yes. I tracked Feiyan to the Laurel Palace, and her name gained me admittance. She was quite eager to speak with me."
"No doubt enjoying the opportunity to gloat," Xaron noted.
Annoyance crossed Nomusa's expression, but she continued as if he hadn't interrupted. "She proposed that we make a mutually beneficial deal. In exchange for information, she would no longer antagonize us, nor turn in 'our feral,' as she called it."
My eyebrows shot up. "And that's it? You tell her a few whispers, and she lets us off the hook?"
"There was one additional condition. That we stop investigating the Despot's death, no matter the Archon's insistence on the matter."
I shook my head and rubbed at the bridge of my nose. My head was starting to ache. "Just what information was she so interested in anyway?"
The muscles in her jaw worked for a moment. "All that we've learned in our hunt," she admitted.
"Our hunt? You're talking about the hunt you impeded at every turn, and now throw away so easily?"
"I'm trying to save us from your foolishness!" Nomusa hissed between clenched teeth.
"Easy, both of you," Xaron said, turning sideways to step between us. "Nomusa, what exactly did you reveal?"
Nomusa exhaled sharply. "I told her our suspicions and how we'd come to them, insofar as they concerned the Despot. Of the Valemish, the Manifest. The Despoina herself."
I rolled my eyes. "Little wonder she wanted us to stop investigating."
"She always wanted that," Nomusa retorted. "Nothing I said changed that."
Xaron sighed and stepped back again so that he didn't stand between us. "At least we have a dialogue with our favorite hive queen and know she still doesn't intend to turn us in without provocation."
"Then I assume you won't do anything to provoke her? Like meeting with the Archon this evening?" Nomusa's eyes bore into me.
I shook my head. "I'm still going."
"Let's go find our rooms before we talk about this further," Xaron interjected. "I'm sure one of Jaxas' honors can point us in the right direction."
I relented to Xaron's command of the situation and was relieved that Nomusa did the same. As we followed after him, I studied my old friend. Anger still ran hot through me for her rash actions, but beneath it, there was a small strain of relief that she had acted in our best interests, misguided though the attempt may have been.
But when she glanced back at me, I turned away. If she expected an apology, she'd be waiting a long while.
Two honors from Archon Jaxas' regiment led us to rooms on the opposite side of the palace. The hallways leading up to them were orderly, but not opulent like the main atrium we'd first entered. After informing us of the locations of various necessities — the two honors left us to our own devices. Though hunger gnawed at my stomach and weariness dragged my limbs, it was the filth and the lingering memory of blood on my skin that sent me to the baths. Xaron, ravenous as usual, urged Nomusa to go with him to the feast hall, which left me on my own. That suited me fine; I needed time to think.
It was only once I was alone and walking down the hallway to the baths that I questioned my decision. Just a turn or so before, Lykos had tried to detain me and throw me in the dungeons. Even now that the Archon had claimed me as his own, a nagging paranoia persisted, especially when I passed between the guards scattered throughout the palace. Their eyes followed me with what seemed more than idle curiosity, and their words felt laced with secret venom. But for the moment at least, none of them laid a hand on me.
By the time I reached the baths, I was nearly shaking, though it could have been as easily from hunger and exhaustion as fear. I stripped off my ill-fitting clothes, keeping only the Verifier medallion with me, and relented to being oiled and scraped by an honor. Once she was finished, I slipped into the water. Though a roof sheltered the bathhouse from the elements, it was open on three sides, providing marvelous views of the sea and coastline, though it also admitted a chilling wind. No one else was at the baths at this turn of the day, so I had the view all to myself. Idly wiping the clinging oil from my skin, I stared out over the sea at the hazy horizon.
Somber thoughts accompanied me. Of Thero, and the lingering mystery of his death, and the dark master behind it. Of Linos, and my failure to retrieve him, and my fear that he'd meet the same fate. As I bobbed in the water, rubbing my hands over cuts and bruises, I wondered if I'd given up too easily, if I shouldn't have pushed to infiltrate the Claw no matter the cost. The Verifier medallion, which I'd kept clasped over my neck, unable to trust parting with it, felt cold and heavy against my skin.
I closed my eyes and listened to the breeze rustling off the cliff and the lap of water on the edges of the pool. Slowly, my guilt's sharp edges dulled, and clarity returned. I couldn't have done anything more, not at that moment. I would have just gotten Xaron, Talan, and myself killed. What I'd done already had been foolish enough. To let the guilt hinder me now would only do my brother a greater disservice. I sighed slowly and let myself relax.
"Airene of Port. Or should I say, Verifier Airene."
I startled and spun around, arms crossed over my breasts. Nikias stood with hands clasped behind his back, dressed in all the finery of his station as steward to the Archon, and a severe expression to match.
"Hello, Nikias," I said drily. "Could you not wait until I'd dressed?"
His cheek twitched. "I come in regards to your dress. My master has had garments delivered to your rooms. I took the liberty to have some sent here, as well as to dispose of your old clothes." He didn't bother hiding a sniff to show what he thought of their state.
That was a kindness I hadn't expected. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"
"As he conveyed before, my master will meet with you this evening to discuss your tasks. Your meeting will be at the Laurel Groves. Are you familiar with their location?"
"Vaguely." I knew where the royal gardens were, but as it was a place for patricians, Servants, and Wreaths, I'd never had occasion to visit them.
"A carriage will await you at the sixth turn of the evening outside the palace doors. Be there promptly; my master is not to be kept waiting." Nikias bowed stiffly, then turned on his heel and left.
I let my arms fall. The calm of the bath had been disturbed, so I rose from the water and hurried to the changing room.
A peplos had been laid out for me, far finer and more elegant than anything I'd worn before. I ran a hand over the soft silk and marveled at the expense. It made me uncomfortable to think about donning it, especially since I rarely wore peploses, which exposed one shoulder and therefore eliminated the possibility of wearing a tunic beneath.
Even more discomforting was the jewelry laid out with it, an assortment of silver bracelets, rings, and earrings, altogether worth twice as much as what Feiyan had stolen from Canopy. I put on the peplos, but I was loathe to touch the jewelry. Did the Archon honestly want his Verifiers dressed in such finery? Perhaps I was meant to serve a different function than I imagined, a puppet in a plot I had yet to discover. It was uncomfortable to consider Jaxas in this new light, but I knew too little of him to rule it out. Another possibility was that this was a test, though what its purpose might be, I could not tell. Whatever his reasons, I decided to not to wear them, but took them in hand. Perhaps it would be an insult to the Archon, but I couldn't abide wearing jewelry that announced my arrival in every new room with its rattling.
I returned to my chamber and entered without inquiring after Xaron and Nomusa. Weariness, which had prickled at my consciousness during my whole stay in the palace, now seized hold of me. Closing and locking the door, I collapsed onto my bed with barely a cursory look around. The fine furnishings could wait to be appreciated until I awoke. With a vague hope that I wouldn't sleep too late for our appointment with Jaxas, I drifted off.
A knock woke me. Disoriented, I bolted upright and stared about the strange room in confusion.
The knock sounded again. "Airene," Nomusa's voice came through the door. "We have half a turn to be outside the palace doors."
"I'm up." I looked around blearily, trying to orient myself to my surroundings. Slowly, I remembered where I was, and the twists and turns in my fortunes that had brought me here.
"You might hurry," Nomusa said, annoyance clear in her voice.
"One moment!" I rose, groaning. Where before I'd been exhausted, now I was sore and stiff as well. Not to mention ravenous. It promised to be a long day yet. At least I was already dressed. I found a mirror resting on the bedside table and examined myself. I was clean, but my hair was a messy cloud around my head, as I hadn't bothered to arrange it after my bath. Fortunately, a comb had been provided, and I fought to tame the tangled bush.
As I tailored myself back into a presentable condition, I tried working my mind around my plans again, but the hunger was too great. Too little time to do everything necessary, as usual. I threw down the comb in frustration and, strapping on my sandals and donning the Verifier medallion, I bolted out the door.
Xaron and Nomusa were waiting outside. As I stepped into the hall, Xaron yawned widely. "Morning," he said miserably. He was even more of a sight than myself. His face was swollen and scabbed. Even stranger was that he'd been provided robes for the occasion in place of his usual coat and trousers, which made him squirm in discomfort.
"It's evening. And don't moan," Nomusa chastised him with a fleeing smile. As usual, she looked radiant, with her hair smartly done and a rich silver peplos clinging to her figure. She hadn't spurned the jewelry as I had, but wore it all, bracelets jingling on her wrists and rings clinking on her fingers.
"Come on, Airene," she said, turning away. "We'll be late."
"I'm famished. Is the dining hall near?"
"No, it's not. You'll just have to deal with it."
"I guess I can relinquish part of my stash," Xaron said grudgingly.
After I'd restored myself from the mound of food Xaron had stolen from the kitchens, him grumbling about losing his late-night meal the whole time, we hurried through the palace to the front doors. Xaron and I chatted of small things, not daring to touch on more pertinent topics. I much preferred Xaron in his current high spirits to the brooding man he'd been the night before.
As promised, Nikias had ordered a carriage to wait for us, with an honor holding the reins to a pair of mules. "If we might hurry, master and mistresses," the man said with a low bow. "We are past the time Steward Nikias instructed me to depart."
Nomusa glowered at me and climbed into the carriage, Xaron and I coming after. As soon as we were seated, the honor shook the reins, and the mules started clopping down the marble path.
We were quiet at first, and I stared out of the barred windows of the carriage. I'd never ridden in such high style, yet I hadn't hesitated to climb in and accept the privilege like a born patrician. It made me uneasy how quickly I was adapting to this new lifestyle.
"Why are we meeting Jaxas in the Laurel Groves?" Nomusa broke the silence, reluctance plain in her voice. She spoke soft enough that the clamor of the horse and carriage would mask her words from our driver.
I met her gaze. If she was willing to talk, I'd meet her halfway. "I don't know. He didn't say."
Xaron shrugged. "Something to do with the Despot job, no doubt."
"With the Despot Myron's death?"
I nodded. "It's what he's hired us for. To get to the bottom of things."
Nomusa was quiet for a moment. "That will go against Feiyan's demands," she said quietly. "Xaron, are you prepared to accept that?"
Uncertainty flashed across his face, but I saw the man I'd glimpsed the night before return as he sharply nodded. "Yes," he said in a rough whisper. "I won't live in fear."
I clenched my jaw and turned my gaze out the window. I hated what necessity made us risk, but I couldn't think of any way around it.
"What did you find in Thys?" Nomusa pressed.
I spoke before Xaron had a chance to. "What did you tell Feiyan?"
She scowled, but it was Xaron who answered. "Let it go, Airene. She did what she thought was best. We can settle all that later. Right now, we have to work together. Or are you forgetting what's on the line?"
"No, I'm not," I answered coolly.
