Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
With some regret, Hallie and Girard had concluded that they couldn’t stay in Cotovatre’s garden for the rest of the night.
Returning to the house, Gaenor had claimed some time with her son, and Hallie had found herself moving through the crowd with Cotovatre, being introduced to a sea of faces, barely able to keep the names straight.
One or two stood out, like the white-haired Ocvran, his face lined with age belied by his sharp, kind brown eyes.
He and Cotovatre were great friends, he told her, and had been since Cotovatre was but a girl.
Hallie heard the truth in his words and wondered if it would be too cheeky to ask for details of what Cotovatre had been like as a child.
Her ancestor had lived many times a normal human lifespan, comfortable and confident in her skin.
It was difficult to imagine her as a child.
Hallie couldn’t help but admire her ancestor’s ease in the formal setting, and her mastery in making every person she spoke to feel seen and heard.
From the little snippets of conversation Hallie overheard she realised that Cotovatre had not made in-person appearances at many Conclaves over the past decade or so, and had not hosted a reception for many years.
“What’s changed this time?” Hallie asked Cotovatre, when they found themselves in a rare quiet moment, settled in comfortable chairs in the living area. “I mean, hosting the party, attending all the Conclave meetings. I don’t think this is what you normally do.”
“It is not,” Cotovatre agreed. Her expression suggested her thoughts had turned inwards. “There are a few reasons why I’m here now. You, of course. But more than that, there are some big changes in hand. You heard about the petition from Elayne Arthur? The widow?”
“She’s the one wanting to take charge of her late husband’s estate? Become head of the house in her own right? Yes, I remember that being discussed at Vertiger.”
“Well, it might not pass, but ten years ago, even five years ago, it wouldn’t have got this far.
None of the other members would have entertained the idea,” Cotovatre said, leaning forward slightly to emphasise her point.
“They had gotten used to me as some kind of anomaly, not to be taken too seriously. But the idea that any other woman would be able to manage a house without a man at its head? Ridiculous.” The savage bite in the lady’s tone made it clear how she felt.
“For some reason I hadn’t put together that this is the first Conclave meeting after Vertiger, where that’s going to be voted on,” Hallie said slowly, mind turning on the other bits and pieces she knew about the Conclave and its workings.
“There’s the petition from the humans on Paradise as well.
” The solitary human-only settlement in the world, the residents of Paradise were petitioning the Conclave for their own seat on the world’s council.
From what Hallie understood, having spoken to them directly, they wanted to assure their future.
They knew that the hochlen regarded the settlers as little better than trespassers, who could be removed at will.
And so the residents wanted to put it beyond doubt that they had title to the land.
“Yes. And, again, five years ago I’d have said it had no chance of even getting to a vote. Now it might well pass,” Cotovatre said.
Unease trickled through Hallie. “Might pass? It’s not certain?”
“Nothing is certain at the moment. There’s a lot of discussion and haggling going on just now,” Cotovatre said, and Hallie heard a hint of weariness in her ancestor’s voice.
“A lot of the traditionalists who don’t see any reason to change.
And then there’s the rest of us who can see that the era of hochlen-only rule is long past. Humans far outnumber us and have just as much skill with technology and, in some cases, even with weapons as we do. ”
“You think there’s a danger of open conflict?
” Hallie asked, stomach lurching. She’d been focused on the specific issues, and the Conclave, and hadn’t considered the politics of the wider world.
And then realised how ill-equipped she was to comment on that.
The news in low city was heavily controlled, with only snippets reaching through from the rest of the world.
She didn’t have a good understanding of what was going on outside low city.
“There are some conflicts around the world. We’ve been used to that.
The number and spread have grown over the past couple of decades, maybe more.
New technology allows us all to keep in touch more easily but it also means malcontents can spur each other on across the world.
” Cotovatre paused, striking face arrested in an absorbed expression.
“The conflicts, such as they are, haven’t got to what some of my colleagues would consider open rebellion.
Not yet, at any rate. But tension and resentment are there.
And we’re certainly seeing a lot more opposition to the Conclave just now, which you’ll know about.
” The director’s investigation, Hallie thought.
The slogan she’d seen written on a few of the exhibits in the investigation room.
Freedom through fire. She just hadn’t known how unusual it was.
Cotovatre reached out and touched Hallie’s arm.
“Do not worry so much. We’ve been on the edge of disaster more times than I care to count and we’re still here. ”
Before Hallie could give voice to the many concerns jumbled up in her head, Emmet appeared in front of them holding two small glasses of smoky blue liquid.
“You both seem depleted,” he said, handing a glass to each of them and taking a seat next to Cotovatre. He levelled a look at Hallie. “You in particular. You have used a lot of magic recently.”
Hallie grimaced. It seemed a lifetime ago, but it had only been that morning. “Girard and I were under fire earlier. The zauber and I held a shield. It was remarkably hard work.”
“Yes, it would be.” Emmet tilted his head to the glass she was still holding. “That’s a restorative of sorts. It will accelerate your magic replenishment.”
“Always looking after me,” Cotovatre murmured, turning a small, fond smile to Emmet. She raised her glass to him. “Thank you.”
Hallie drank her potion along with Cotovatre and was lost for a moment in the sensations of a forest at dawn. The cool air on her face, the sensation of dew on her skin, the faint rustling of animals in the undergrowth, the promise of a new day ahead.
“Oh, that was powerful,” she said, handing the empty glass back to Emmet. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. You should be returned to full strength by morning,” Emmet told her. “And then we must arrange for another lesson. I suspect you are pouring your power out too quickly.”
“Probably,” Hallie said. “I doubt I will have time for a lesson until after the Conclave meetings, though.”
“That will be fine,” Emmet told her. He collected Cotovatre’s glass, holding both empty glasses in one hand as he rose to his feet, looking down at the lady. “Tristram Jacobs arrived a short while ago. He extended his apologies for his late arrival. He’s in the other room.”
“I should go and say hello,” Cotovatre said. She accepted Emmet’s free hand to help her up and paused, their hands linked, a quiet look passing between them before the lady turned to Hallie. “Do you want to come, too?”
“I should,” Hallie echoed Cotovatre’s words and got to her feet.
She may not have been raised with hochlen manners, but she had been raised with some manners and those dictated that she follow her host’s direction.
She had the sense that Cotovatre didn’t particularly want to mingle with more people, so the least Hallie could do was go with her.
A glance across the room told her that Girard was still in conversation with his mother and his uncle Royns, all of them apparently thoroughly enjoying their time together.
That, at least, made Hallie smile. She suspected that Girard had not had much time with his mother lately.
Leaving Girard to his family, she and Cotovatre found Tristram Jacobs near the doorway to the dining room, in a small group with Hoel Buchanan and a pair of older men that Hallie knew were other Conclave members.
With a start, she realised that, now that Tristram was here, every member of the Conclave was in Cotovatre’s house, spread across the two rooms. There were twenty-three of them at present, as there were still a few vacancies.
And if the vote went through the following day to add a seat for Paradise, there would be twenty-four Conclave members by the end of the next day.
Tristram Jacobs had inherited his father’s seat on the Conclave when the old man had passed.
Not that long ago, and from poison. She remembered that Hoel had been looking forward to not being the youngest member of the Conclave and wondered how Tristram was enjoying that position.
When she’d first met the young man he’d been dying - of the same poison that had eventually killed his father.
He’d been restored to health now, pale skin almost glowing, pale blue eyes bright, dark hair gleaming in the soft lighting in the room.
He had an almost hectic flush of health on his face.
“Ah, my lady. A thousand apologies for being so late,” Tristram said as Cotovatre approached them. “And Miss Talbot as well. An unexpected joy.”
Hallie’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him, wondering if the slight flush might be due to alcohol or something else rather than health. In her past experiences with Tristram he hadn’t been given to such extravagant speech.
“I am glad you could make it,” Cotovatre answered, and nodded to the other men in the group. Hallie knew that she had been introduced to the older men earlier, but was having trouble remembering the names.