Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
Jacaranda
I n the morning, I woke between my union. Every part of me was sore and it made me grin from ear to ear.
After our first round of lovemaking, Sarah was incorrigible and goaded us into another one. And another one. To be honest, it didn’t take much provoking to get us going. It was more than a relief to know she had only been under Rex’s influence and did not actually doubt my intentions. All of that was over, and I had them safe with me.
Deacon’s tail thumped lazily on my thigh. He rolled onto his back and cuddled against my chest. I kissed the top of his head and wrapped my right arm around him.
Quietly, he said, “Good morning.”
“How did you know I was awake?” I asked him.
“You stopped snoring.” Humor laced his voice.
I grimaced. “I had a long day, forgive the snoring.”
He softly chuckled. “Yeah. Same.”
“Ditto,” Sarah said before she cuddled me the same way Deacon did.
I held her tight with my left arm and kissed her. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” She sighed contentedly, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on my chest. “So, there’s a lot to figure out.”
“Agreed,” I said. We had lightly touched on everything that had happened to each of us during our supper with everyone, but there were so many other important things to discuss.
Deacon lifted his head to glance over at Sarah. “You’re going to rule over the city now?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding confident, which I loved. “I hope that is something you two are okay with.”
“I am.” I couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for the job.
Deacon nodded his agreement, too. “It gives you authority over the ghosts and some of the living of Halla, which is better than I had hoped for. I am less afraid for my family than I had been. To be honest, I was not sure how everything was going to work in that regard. However, it does put a target on you, Consort.”
“It does,” she acknowledged, and sat up beside me so she could see both of us. “But ever since I left Earth, there’s been a target on me, hasn’t there? I mean, being the only living conduit, then being the contra, and everything else that’s come after that, I’ve always been a target. At least if I’m running Faithless, I can affect real change on this micro-planet. I can help people—not just your family, but all of them. Get people out of poverty, end the slave system here…I can’t think of a better way to live my life.”
A massive amount of respect swelled in my chest. “I am so proud to be your companion, Sarah.”
“As am I.” Deacon reached over me, took her hand, and kissed the back of it. “Though, I believe we will need to rename the city. We cannot exactly call it Faithless , when the only living conduit is running the city, can we?”
“No, I suppose not.” She thought for a moment, then said, “Um, where do you want to live in the city, guys?”
“I hadn’t thought of it,” I said, and shrugged.
Deacon hesitated. “I am unsure that I would want to live in the city. I grew up in Ladrille, Orhon’s capital. I am not sure city life is for me. I do not miss it.”
“Think about it this way, Deacon,” Sarah said as she crossed her legs, making herself more comfortable as we discussed our lives together. “This is my city. I can make it into whatever I want. So, think about what lifestyle you want, and we can make it happen.”
Deacon set his chin onto my ribs and grinned. “Done.”
She beamed down at him, then looked to me. “You, too. I want input from both of you on this.”
“If I think of something I want, I will let you know.” I grinned mischievously at her. “Actually, I just figured something out that I want.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Breakfast.”
She laughed, and we took showers and started to dress for the day ahead. Deacon pulled his uniform up over his hips, which allowed me to pay attention to his words. “We need to tell my father everything that has happened. In person. Hearing all of this on a message will only seem like we are in some kind of trouble.”
I nodded my agreement. “After that, I will need to scout on Orhon and find out what the word is there. Rex’s death will be big news once it gets out, and unless Xylic has been able to silence all communication from Halla, they will likely know who was involved. I’ll need to make sure there are no surprises coming here.”
“If that is the case, then they will likely be after my known associates,” Deacon said with a frown. “You cannot scout for this.”
I hissed my disappointment. “You’re right.”
“We’ll need to send someone we trust, though, right?” Sarah asked as she finished braiding her hair. “I trust Xylic to a degree, but I want our own people to find out what’s being said on Orhon.”
“I concur,” Deacon said, his lips pursed. “There is no room for error on this, and with Illiapol coming—"
“Yeah, that caught my ear yesterday when Xylic mentioned it, but we had bigger fish to fry in the throne room at the time. What is Illiapol?” she asked.
I placed my hands on my hips and explained, “It is a barbaric tradition, as far as I’m concerned, but I’m sure Deacon has other opinions on the matter—"
He arched a brow, his eyes flashing with indignation. “Because I’m classed?”
I chose my words carefully. “Classed people seem to think Illiapol is a day of celebration for all of Orhon. The rest of us know what it is.”
“And that is?” Sarah asked impatiently.
“Apologies, Consort, I was distracted by Jac’s insult.” Deacon gave me a sharp look and I shrugged it off before he continued. “Illiapol is an annual holiday festival which celebrates the sacrifice of Illiamor, the first classed woman.”
“Bullshit,” I grumbled.
“Sacrifice?” Sarah asked in alarm. “What sacrifice?”
“There was a time when women could not be considered classed or unclassed,” Deacon said. “They were either united or ununited. They did not qualify for classification at all.” He shook his head. “It was a hateful tradition that did not change until a winter that altered all of Ladrian society. It occurred hundreds of years ago and lasted for half a decade—"
“The winters here are that long?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide at the thought.
“Not usually,” I interjected. “Orhon’s axial tilt was off for unknown reasons, but our scientists worked out the problem and changed it back.”
“Wow,” Sarah mumbled. “That’s incredible.”
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “No, what’s incredible is that anyone believes the myth of Illiamor.”
Deacon shot me a look before returning to his story. “I was getting to that. So, during that winter, food stores depleted as you might imagine, and the rulers were starving just like the people in the fields. Back then, we were ruled by a king, and his daughter, Illiamor, was his favorite. She decided to trek into the wilderness to find food for her family. But when she came back empty handed, she decided that they should eat her so that they could live, so—"
“ What ?” Sarah gasped in horror.
“You heard him right,” I said with an agitated huff.
Deacon ignored my side remark. “So, Illiamor made arrangements with the chef on how she was to be eaten and to preserve her meat for the rest of the winter, use her bones and skin for soup, and so on. They worked together on a menu which would sustain her family the longest, before she had the butcher kill her. Of course, the kitchen staff wept through the processing of her body, which is why so much of the food served at Illiapol is salty—"
“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to back up a sec,” Sarah interrupted him again, this time with her hand on her stomach as though she felt sick. “This girl planned out how her family should use her meat ?”
Deacon nodded. “By feeding them, she saved their lives, and so by extending her carcasses usage, she saved her family’s lives twice in effect, because none of the rest of them had to volunteer as food. The planning was quite honorable of her. Due to her noble sacrifices, her father declared that women were just as noble as men, and therefore, they could be classed, as well. It is seen as achievement and triumph for women.”
“For classed women,” I added, my tone harsh and I didn’t care. “Come on, Deacon. Let’s be honest about it.”
“Well, it is a myth,” he said defensively.
“Mm, hmm,” I said in a flat tone. “The reality is, Sarah, no one knows whether Illiamor was actually a princess or if she was a servant girl who was conscripted into the soup pot to save that king and his family. Now, Illiapol is almost always an unclassed woman who—"
“They still eat someone?” She looked quite sick as she bleated out the question.
“The royal family and the court do, yes,” Deacon said. “It is rumored that other classed families have their own private celebration and follow a… traditional menu for their celebrations.”
Sarah swallowed hard and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Oh my god.”
“But that’s not all,” I cut in, pinning my gaze on Deacon. “Tell her what the woman has to endure before they get to eat her.”
Her entire body quivered in revulsion. “There’s more?”
Deacon reluctantly explained. “First, she must run the trial of Illiamor, which is a sixty-five kilometer trek up a perilous mountainside, said to be where Illiamor initially tried to hunt for food.”
“And?” I said, deliberately pushing Deacon to reveal everything so Sarah understood the whole detestable process.
“ And she is hunted by our ruler and six court members, to imitate the seven beasts who Illiamor fought off during her hunt,” Deacon said, while Sarah continued to stare at him in horror. “If the woman survives and crosses the finish line before they can catch and kill her, then she is no longer eligible as the celebratory dinner. In fact, she becomes one of the people’s favored classed ladies. She is given a great sum of money, enough to live out her days in whatever way she chooses, wherever she chooses.”
“Which is how Silence Bateen won the people’s affections,” I added.
“ What ?!” she shouted, even more upset now.
“It is true,” Deacon said quietly. “Silence had always been adored by the people for her generous spirit and kindness, but running the trial won her their undying love. Silence had hoped that by volunteering for Illiapol, she would show her father how grotesque it was, and he would declare Illiapol to be over.”
“Did Justice hunt his own daughter?” she whispered, her voice choked with disgust.
“No, he declined to participate in the hunt that year, though he held Silence to her volunteerism. Justice said if she wanted to spit in the face of our traditions, then she would have to make good on it.” Deacon smiled proudly and said, “She won the trial in record time, and afterwards, the unclassed would have done anything for her.”
Sarah seemed to put all the pieces of the story together in her mind. “Because since Silence volunteered, it meant no unclassed person lost a woman in their family that year, right?”
“Exactly. Which was why the unclassed almost rioted when Justice sent her to prison for her affair with my father, Valor.”
Sarah glanced from Deacon, to me, and back again, looking appalled. “Have either of you ever…celebrated… traditionally?”
“ No, ” we barked together.
I clarified, “I was never high-ranking enough to earn such a disgusting honor, and Deacon’s family has a strict policy against Illiapol.”
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief.
“Illiapol is seen as a wonderful thing among many of the classed women,” Deacon said. “Without the myth of it, they would never have the chance to rise to power. However, my mother’s family always believed it was wrong no matter the alleged reasoning, so it was never celebrated in my parents’ household. If I had to guess, a quarter of classed people do not participate in Illiapol traditions.”
“And the unclassed hate it for obvious reasons,” I added meaningfully. “But there are also those who see it as the only chance for an unclassed woman to rise through the ranks and make something of herself. There is no other form of merit an unclassed woman can use to make herself classed.”
Sarah rubbed her fingers across her forehead as she took it all in. “What about the unclassed men and others?”
“Military service, if they can rank high enough,” Deacon said.
She shook her head. “That is crazy to me.”
I nodded. “Same.”
After a long, quiet moment, Sarah asked, “Is being classed really all that important?”
“Not to me,” Deacon immediately said. “Not on any fundamental level.”
I tipped my head doubtfully at Deacon. I couldn’t help myself. “Really?” I drawled sardonically.
He lifted his chin. “What I mean to say is, being classed does not change who a person is. I respect people equally.”
“Which is one of the reasons I love you, Deacon, but class affects everything ,” I said, sharing my own experiences. “From your career opportunities to your life’s trajectory, so while it’s not important to you in the ways that matter, when you’re unclassed, it affects everything that matters.”
He studied my unwavering expression and chose his words carefully. “It is something I have never had to consider, not really,” he said quietly. “What the unclassed face their whole lives. Especially the women. I am sorry, Jac.”
I exhaled a deep breath, letting out all the tension that had built inside my chest during our conversation. “Sorry I got so touchy about Illiapol—"
“Do not apologize for that,” he said, cutting me off. “Not ever. It is a horror. You are right to be touchy about it.”
Sarah chewed on her bottom lip, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Do they celebrate here on Halla?”
“To my knowledge, no,” Deacon said.
Her stiff shoulders relaxed. “That is very good to hear.”
“So, breakfast?” I suggested, ready to leave this discussion behind.
Sarah laughed, appreciating my attempt at levity. “I don’t know if I can ever eat again after hearing all that.”
“Just be glad you’re on Halla right now instead of Orhon,” I told her. “Right about now is when they start looking for the woman to run the trial.”
She gulped and asked, “Any other holidays that involve ritual sacrifice?”
Deacon smirked at her. “You say that so judgmentally, Consort.”
She arched a brow at him. “Should I have said it any other way?”
“No.” He grinned from teasing her. “And with regards to other holidays, there are two that use animal sacrifice, but only Illiapol requires Ladrian sacrifice.”
Her brows furrowed. “That’s still…concerning.”
“Human holidays use more animal sacrifice than Ladrian ones do,” I pointed out. “Thanksgiving turkeys, Christmas and Easter hams, it’s all the same thing.”
“I guess it is,” she said, looking conflicted. “I just never thought of it that way. God, I don’t even know what month it is on Earth right now.”
“By the weather, I would guess early autumn, but I do not know the month,” Deacon said.
I smiled. “I’m sure your sisters will know. And I bet they’re at breakfast, so…”
Sarah giggled at me as she stood up from the bed. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you?”
“I’m starving,” I said, which was an understatement after the events of the past two days, and then last night. “You wore me out. Both of you.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I wouldn’t mind working up an appetite…”
Deacon laughed, too. “You’re in a mood, are you not? I have never seen you quite like this.”
“I missed my guys.” She shrugged as she came up to the both of us. “And it seems I can’t get enough of either of you.”
“You sound like a pregnant Ladrian,” I told her.
She stopped in her tracks. “What?”
“Pregnant Ladrians are nonstop horny for thirteen months.”
Her fingers fluttered up to her throat, her eyes huge. “They have to be pregnant for thirteen months?”
I nodded. “Yes, typically.”
“Some go as long as fifteen,” Deacon added. “It all depends on the woman. Have you had any other symptoms?”
Sarah’s forehead scrunched as she thought about his question. “No, I don’t…I haven’t had my period since I got here. That’s concerning.”
“That happens for humans sometimes,” I said, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “I’ve heard that their cycles can stop entirely on Orhon, but I’m not sure about Halla. Has something to do with our moons and our gravity, the water, our extended day cycle, all that. It throws off the balance. You should check with Ode before you freak out.”
She cringed. “You could tell I was freaking out already?”
I smiled at her. “Being the guy who stole you from Earth in the first place, I am quite familiar with that look of panic.”
She took my face in her hands and kissed me. “Never thought I’d be so happy to be stolen.”
I laughed. “Never thought I’d be happy I stole someone.”