Chapter 15 #2
“What else did it say?” I ask, squinting at the tiny letters.
“It’s coded,” Harman explains. “But he essentially wanted to give you two warnings. First, he confirmed that Caledon succeeded with the solari children. He now has enough power to use Ethira’s tokens—once he finds them all.
Second, he said that Caledon knew Morgana was likely still in Filusia, and had ordered the Morelium to find and kill her. ”
Harman’s earlier surprise falls into place. “And they tried to do exactly that,” I say. “He was telling the truth.”
Damia makes a dismissive scoff, and Barb, currently climbing down her arm, hisses along with her. “That doesn’t mean anything. He could have sent this message to trick us, knowing full well that we wouldn’t get the warning about the Morelium in time for it to do us any good.”
Harman shrugs. “I don’t know. He has no way of knowing how fast our networks are, or how precisely we knew your location.
I did send a message forward via some aesteri to try to find you, but you’d already left the palace by then.
Honestly, I spent the whole of yesterday wondering if you were all dead and I’d never see you again. ”
Alastor reaches for his hand, squeezing it tight.
“That’s why you came,” he says to Harman.
“It was one of the reasons,” the rebel leader agrees, meeting my friend’s gaze. A silent conversation passes between them, and the affection I see there has me reaching across the mooring toward Ana. She meets my gaze with a strained smile. This conversation has given us a lot to think about.
“If Sophos really has switched sides, he’s one of the best weapons we’ve got against Caledon,” I point out. “Imagine the information he knows. Even if it might be a trick, we can’t pass up the chance that he’s telling the truth.”
Every trap has to be baited, and I could see Caledon feeding us useful intel to build our trust in Sophos’s story, but I can’t imagine the Grand Bearer would ever have let Ana escape from Qimorna. And Sophos’s actions that day definitely helped us.
“What are you thinking, Captain?” Hyllus asks.
“One of us should go to Godom,” I say. “Meet with Sophos in person and see what he has to say for himself.” I turn to Harman. “You have eyes and ears in Qimorna, correct?”
“Yes…more or less,” Harman hedges. “But they’re just for intel. We don’t ask them to run missions. They already live with enough risk as it is.”
“But could they be persuaded to at least get a message to the bearer?”
Harman considers this. “If they could do it without it getting traced back to them, yes. That way, if it is a trap, they’re not implicated. But it will take some time.”
“Good,” I say, looking around at my soldiers. They straighten, knowing I’m about to pick one of them out.
“I’ll go,” Damia says before I’ve made my decision.
“Is that wise?” Alastor says. “I mean, no offense, Damia, but you’re not exactly the coolest head when it comes to religious types. Aren’t I the logical choice? I could work out if he was telling the truth in about ten seconds.”
“He’s a bearer, Alastor, not some basic cleric. Don’t you think he’d see your sensic magic coming a mile off?” Damia points out. “Besides, apart from Lafia, I’m the only person here who’s been deep inside the insanity of a religious organization and seen the light.”
She lifts Barb off her wrist, draping the little serpent over her shoulder as she stands and moves over to the fireplace. She glances into the flames before turning to face us all.
“I know what it’s like, having to rearrange your whole universe when you realize everything you’ve been taught is wrong. I know how hard it is to let go of the certainty you’ve always relied on. Trust me, if Bearer Sophos has had some awakening, I’ll be able to tell if it’s genuine.”
“Alright,” I say, convinced. “You’ll go, find out if he’s really looking to ally with us. And if he is, you’ll get as much useful information as you can.”
She nods, and the light in her eyes tells me she’s excited for this—hungry for it. Damia isn’t the type to sit idly by even for a moment. She needs a mission, and she’s relieved I’ve just handed one to her.
“I’ll leave tonight,” she says.
Phaia shakes her head, her silver hair rippling against her face. “You should at least eat before running off to Godom.”
“It will take at least a few days for me to get in touch with my contact,” Harman points out. “And Jethra makes a mean stew.”
“Sophos is one thing,” Ana’s voice echoes in my mind. “But there are a lot of moving pieces on this board.”
“Do you have something specific in mind?”
“Oclanna,” she says, and I feel the surge of hatred that comes with the name. “The seal might be our priority, but she’s sat on my throne long enough.”
I nod, seeing her eyes flicker to her brother, and I start to get a sense of her plan across the mooring.
“We’ve already killed one monarch,” I point out. “Might as well make it hunting season.”
Morgana
“Harman, can I have a word?”
I catch my brother after dinner, which we eat together, crammed into the annex’s common room. I can’t help but feel a wave of affection for everyone as the strange group balances bowls of stew on their knees, handing a loaf of bread around to rip great hunks off and pass on to their neighbor.
Corrin takes little chunks of meat from his bowl and feeds them tenderly to Barb, who accepts every bit with clear pleasure, making Damia roll her eyes and mutter about the serpent being a traitor.
Meanwhile, Lafia declares she’s full and generously hands the rest of her stew to Hyllus, who gratefully accepts it as a man who needs to eat twice as much as the rest of us.
As Harman and I duck into one of the boarding rooms, I think about how worried he must’ve been, not knowing if we’d ever get to the coach house safely. That revelation reminded me how many burdens my brother carries around on his shoulders. Unfortunately, I’m about to add to them.
“Did you ever find out who it was—the person who betrayed us in Qimorna?” I ask as we sit down on a single bed each, facing each other. “Are you sure the Hand is safe?”
“It was one of the first things we focused on after we got out of the city,” Harman says. “Lucky for us, it wasn’t hard to work out. It was Cettar.”
I gape, remembering all too well the unpleasant rebel who never trusted Leon or me.
“He sold us out to the Temple? But he was always so—”
“Committed to the cause?” Harman asks. “Turns out, that was exactly the problem. His dedication was intense…but only when he agreed with the choices we made. He hated our inclusion of the fae and people like Lafia, and he saw you as the person who started all the changes to the Hand he didn’t like. ”
“But still, he hated the Temple,” I point out.
Harman grimaces. “He hated you more. And he was fool enough to think he could betray you without harming the rest of us. Caledon’s spies convinced him that the Temple would accept you and Leon in exchange for letting the Hand safely leave the city.
His mistake was believing Caledon would ever make a deal where he showed his enemies mercy. His prejudice made him blind.”
I nod. Cettar was more like a Temple follower than he’d likely ever believe. He, too, had committed himself to the idea of a pure, perfect movement, only made up of people who thought exactly like him.
“I’m glad you caught him,” I said. “The last thing you need is to worry about some traitor in your ranks. Especially as I’m about to ask you to take a step back from your duties with the Hand.”
He frowns. “What do you mean? Why would I do that?”
“Because there’s somewhere I think you’re needed more—a job only you can do,” I say, taking a deep breath. “You once told me to forget about my doubts and focus on the throne. You said I had to become queen. Well, now I’m ready to do that, but you have to help me.”
“Okay…” Harman sounds wary. “What did you have in mind?”
“Once we find the seal, we’ll need to move quickly. My powers are back now—I can fight Oclanna and I’m confident I’ll win, but I can’t just go charging into Elmere and challenge my aunt.”
“You need council backing,” Harman says, with dawning understanding.
He knows that anyone with a claim to the throne can legally challenge the existing monarch if they’re backed by at least one member of the monarch’s council.
“You’re my brother, Harman. You’re the son of the former king and a noblewoman known for her role in politics. I can’t think of anyone better to go to Elmere and find the council member willing to back me.”
“Morgana,” Harman raises his hands, backing away from me. “I’m a criminal, a rebel, not some diplomat.”
“Except you’ve spent your whole life forging relationships and making connections.
And, criminal or not, let’s face it, you know that world.
They’ll recognize you as one of them. You’re already known to some of our father’s old friends at court.
That should get your foot in the door. Then you can start quietly laying the groundwork for my challenge against Oclanna. ”
Harman stares at me. “There’s something different about you,” he says. “You’re more…I don’t know. A month ago, I think you would’ve felt too guilty to ask me for this.”
I shift uncomfortably, recalling my conversation with Leon about my lack of guilt in other areas. Is Harman seeing the darkness within me?
“We’ll never bring Caledon down without control over Trova’s armies,” I point out. “I must be recognized as queen, and to do that, I need a legitimate challenge. This is more important than anything, barring our search for the tokens. Am I wrong?”
Harman shakes his head. “No, you’re not wrong. I’m just admiring your newfound ruthlessness.” His tone says he’s joking, but the words hit home anyway.
“I saw my soul mate get ripped from this world,” I say, as calmly as I can manage. “And then I had to break the rules of life and death to bring him back. I’m done playing nice.”
Harman shrugs. “Fine by me. I left any notion of fairness behind when I watched the Temple burn my mentor alive.”
We look at each other for a moment, letting our matching desire for revenge sit between us.
“So you’ll go?” I ask eventually.
“It’s time we built up our network in the capital,” he admits. “And I do seem to have a knack for feeling out where people’s sympathies lie.”
“We need two things,” I explain. “The first is some evidence of how Oclanna organized my parents’ murder.
My guess is the assassin was human—probably the same person Leon caught trying to kill me.
But they managed to frame the fae for their deaths.
It’s not that hard to imagine how they could have gotten a Filusian knife, but I’m still not sure how they faked the traces of fae magic Oclanna said were in the room where they were murdered. ”
“That would mean organizing help from someone outside the palace,” Harman says, nodding. “I’m guessing the second thing is finding some nobles unhappy with the current state of politics—particularly someone with the ear of anyone on the council?”
“Yes,” I say. “It’s not safe to approach the council members directly, but Corrin and Damia gave me a few names of nobles they reckon might not feel so warmly toward my aunt.”
“Or so negatively about the rogue princess,” Harman finishes. He looks resigned. He knows we need this, but he’s obviously unhappy at the prospect of swapping his rebel cap for that of a political schemer.
“But I haven’t told you the best bit yet,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “Is there a best bit?”
“Of course. If you’re going to be trying to root out Oclanna’s collaborators and witnesses to her crimes, then you’re going to need someone who’s good at getting the truth out of people.”
Harman breaks into a smile that lights up the room. “You’re saying I can take Alastor with me?”
I return his smile. “I’m saying once he got wind of where I wanted to send you, Ralus himself couldn’t stop him coming along.”