Chapter 32 Dimas #2
“Their devotion should be rewarded—not with a boon,” Dimas said, backtracking when his uncle’s eyebrow rose, “but with Lenora’s presence.
They traveled all this way to meet their Fateweaver, right?
If we give them what they came for, if Lenora and I pay a visit to the temple, it will satisfy the pilgrims and create a distraction whilst the Fist search for this accomplice. ”
“Why not just send them into the lower city and arrest the heretic’s accomplice openly?” His uncle sneered. “Make a spectacle of it? It would be a show of power, one our enemies would be foolish to ignore.”
It was what his father would have done. But there was enough unrest in the empire already without drawing attention to the fact that another heretic had somehow managed to live undetected within the imperial city’s walls.
“It’s too much of a risk; a public display will only give the people even more of a reason to think Naebya has forsaken us. Besides, if this accomplice gets wind of our arrival before we reach wherever they’re staying, they’ll have time to run.”
Roston was quiet for a long moment. And then a small, rare smile tugged at his lips. “You’re becoming quite the tactician. Your mother would be proud.”
Most people would have meant that as an insult, but Roston had always displayed a soft spot for the late empress, often expressing her compassion was an asset rather than a hindrance.
For the first few months after his mother died, Dimas had wondered what life might have been like if she’d married Roston instead of Vesric.
If her compassion had been celebrated instead of condemned.
Dimas bit the inside of his cheek, pushing the thought away.
If that was the life his mother was supposed to have led, then Naebya would have made it so, either when she wove her threads into existence or by having the reigning Fateweaver manipulate them at the time.
The fate of the late empress was one she had been meant for, and no amount of wishing could change that.
“Have General Alraen prepare an envoy for a trip into the lower city tomorrow afternoon. Whilst Lenora and I visit the temple, the Fists still located in the city will covertly investigate the location of the heretic’s accomplice.
If they’re still there, then an arrest can be made—quietly.
And if they’re not … well, hopefully there will be something that can help lead us to the Haesta’s stronghold. ”
“And if there isn’t?” Roston asked.
Dimas winced. He should have known the question was coming. After everything that had happened, it was no wonder his uncle was starting to doubt him, too.
We need to ensure what happened with the Furybringer never happens again.
Those were the words he’d said to Ioseph in the Wilds. He tried to gather the same bravery he’d felt when he’d uttered them as he met his uncle’s gaze. “If there isn’t, then I will do whatever it takes to ensure Wyrecia’s future. Even if—even if I will not be here to see it.”
There was the smallest of pauses, the air heavy with silence, before Roston said, “What if there was another way? One that would ensure Wyrecia’s safety without having to sacrifice yourself?” Roston was watching Dimas’s face, searching for any cracks in the mask he so carefully donned.
Dimas would not let him find any.
“Is there?”
“There are … vague mentions of something rather interesting in the Zvaerna Order’s archives,” Roston continued, “something that was created by the first Zvaerna Order priests as a sort of … fail-safe, should the ritual to create the first Fateweaver have not gone as planned. The records detail a relic meant to suppress a Fateweaver’s power, made of the very mineral the Verlondians have been hoarding for centuries. ”
Clearly not well enough, if the Zvaerna Order had gotten ahold of it.
The thought lasted barely a heartbeat before the realization of what this might mean sunk in.
Dimas had never heard of such an object.
Then again, it wasn’t exactly something the Order would make common knowledge; to even suggest that the ritual to create the first Fateweaver could have gone wrong would be too akin to heresy.
But if the item did exist, and it could help him save his empire, then surely Naebya would want him to find it?
So why had his uncle not told him about it until now?
Trying not to sound juvenile, Dimas asked, “Why have you not shared this information with me before, Uncle?”
“Because the last mention of it was centuries ago. It hasn’t been seen, or spoken of, since the High Priest of the Order sealed it away and made the high-ranking members of the Order vow to keep its existence a secret,” Roston explained.
“These days, in the eyes of many of the devout, even suggesting the relic exists is akin to heresy. I did not wish to put you in such a position until I was certain the Haesta had truly returned. And now that they are spreading heresy about the Furybringer’s return … ”
Roston trailed off. He didn’t need to say it out loud for the warning to be clear.
If the Haesta’s plans to bring back the Furybringer somehow involved Lenora (and given the problems with Dimas’s bond with her, it was safe to assume they did), then he could not risk her losing control and succumbing to corruption.
And if the Rite of Ascension did not work, or if the cult got to Lenora before it could be completed, then Dimas needed a fail-safe.
A way to keep his Fateweaver out of the Haesta’s clutches.
“I’ll look into it,” Dimas said, turning to leave before he could change his mind.
Without Naebya to guide him, it was the only lifeline Dimas could reach for.
He only hoped he’d made the right choice.