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Somewhere in the pit of his being came the ghostly sensation of sorrow. But no tears came. It was just the shadow of sadness, not the real thing.
“I don’t want this,” he whispered.
“Well I do!” screamed Calix, his voice echoing through the vines. Tears welled in his eyes. “I told you that I wouldn’t become that thing again! I begged you! For five years I had never... I kept myself from...”
“Please, just let me—”
“No!” said the prince, turning away. “Just leave, Aurelius. Leave now and never return!”
Calix’s shoulders shook. The sound of his sobbing consumed the gray hills.
Aurelius stood on the spot for what felt like a generation.
Then, at last, he did as the prince asked.
75
AURELIUS
Aurelius stood in the doorway of Securia’s office. She looked up with ready-made fire, her face saying exactly how he must have looked.
“Yes, Herald?”
He placed the scroll in front of her, gripping the bookshelves to stop himself collapsing. “The prince agreed.”
It was barely a complete sentence, but it was all he could manage. Standing was difficult. Breathing was difficult. If it hadn’t been for the local he’d flagged down in the vineyards, prepared to take the promise of gold in future for a ride now, he’d surely be passed out on the outskirts of town.
She didn’t look at the parchment, either not doubting the validity of the statement, or not caring. Instead, she just scowled, lips pursed and a faint shake of her head.
“How pleased you must be, Herald. Your long mission here finally at an end?”
“Seems so.”
“If you are expecting congratulations, Mr. Savair, then you have failed to heed any of my warnings. You have disgraced Mesti. And you will pay the punishment for this treason. You and your wicked mother!”
“Tell... the senate,” he managed. Each word was like a fork across his throat.
She looked genuinely shocked. “You want the senate to support this blasphemy?”
“You think they won’t?” he muttered, gripping harder at the wood of the bookshelf, his head spinning. “That this will end House Savair?”
“I do not think this. I know it.”
“Then tell them,” he croaked. “Everything you’ve seen. Then ask what they’d have you do.”
She stared at him for long while. Finally, she plucked a fresh piece of parchment and started writing.
He stumbled out of the building, certain the letter would be sent before nightfall. Then, it would be a matter of days before the response would come. A week at most. They wouldn’t wait. Xiber would be at Vaticily by now. There wasn’t any time left to wait.
A voice called as he reached his doorway.
It was Teigra.
Her face was full of focus. Before he could speak she launched into a monologue about her plans for getting Calix back, about how it wasn’t over yet and she could still save the polity.
Her words drifted by like leaves on an autumn wind. From somewhere in the broken recesses of his soul came the smallest pang of guilt.
The look in her eyes.
