Chapter 8
Breezes are what I missed the most of all.
Standing amongst the rows of sprouted wheat that lined the outskirts of the buried town of Paradise, I marveled at the stillness that surrounded me.
Above, the stalks would sway to and fro, dancing in a beautiful, hypnotic pattern.
Here, beneath a mountain, the air was stagnant and heavy, like the earth that settled above our heads.
It was stifling at times. Even if the Reviled had managed to illuminate their city with the beautiful crystals that hung like constellations above, they could never replicate the breeze.
The top button of my shirt threatened to squeeze the life out of me.
Kaine picked it out this morning, grabbed it from the pile next to my bed when I overslept.
He gave it a sniff, making a face before tossing it at me.
My dreams had woken me early that morning, a heavy feeling in my chest pulling me from a dead sleep.
I must have dozed off again before Kaine nearly broke down the door to my bedroom, saying I was already late for the first of my meetings.
They rolled one after the other till the afternoon grew late.
Kaine would be angry if he found me here, hiding amongst the wheat when there was a stack of paperwork waiting for me back at the group hall.
To be perfectly honest, I would be lost without him.
He kept me on task. But there were times—like that afternoon—when I needed to get away from the yoke of responsibility and try to feel like myself again.
I wanted to be Azrael—not Rudderkin—if only for an hour.
So instead of an afternoon fraught with paperwork, I wandered the wheat, absentmindedly running my fingers over the soft awns.
I was near the edge of Paradise, where the wall of the mountain that surrounded us rose at a slope just a few yards away.
As I reached the end of the last row, a patch of soft earth caught my eye.
Thistles and weeds had grown tall, nearly the height of my hips, and spilled over the splintered wooden edges of a flower bed.
It looked as though it had been some time since the last blooms had graced that place, yet as I stared into the tangle of choking brambles, I spotted a few small, colorful buds, fighting their way towards the artificial light that shone from above.
“How resilient you are,” I muttered, kneeling down by the bed and brushing aside the interfering weeds. “To flower, even amongst the thorns. You just need a little push, and you’ll thrive, little ones. Let me help.”
Carefully, I untangled the mess of prickly invaders that had grown around the wildflower. It became quickly apparent to me that there were more flowers under the canopy of thorns, so I set to work, wrenching the weeds from their place and uncovering what lay beneath.
During my time at Chateau Greene, the gardeners were always kind to me.
When I would break a dish or scald a pot of milk on the stove, Father would send me out into the gardens while he cleaned up the mess.
There, I would find them, the Unseen who cared for the labyrinthine hedges and roses that Madame Greene loved so dearly.
Their skin was always kissed by the sun, and their hands stained by the earth, but their smiles were kind and their voices soft as they asked me to join them in their work.
They taught me the rhythms of the seasons. When to prune and when to plant. How to care for the soil and repair what was broken by storm or animal. There was so much love suffused into the dirt around the Chateau, I often wondered how it didn’t seep inside the cold and drafty halls.
Sitting back on my heels, I observed the fruits of my labor.
The wildflower blooms spread across the bed, uninhibited by thorn or thistle.
Pale pinks and deep blues, and a few that looked like they could have sprouted from my scalp.
They were beautiful. And with hands sullied with earth, I felt truly at peace for the first time in weeks.
“There you are.”
I didn’t need to look up to know that Kaine had found me at last.
“Please don’t make me go back,” I said, rubbing two fingers together till the dirt clumped and fell onto the soil.
“The delegates just arrived. They need to speak with you.”
I let out a sigh, rising to my full height with a reluctance I wished I could disperse. Once again, I felt a heaviness in my chest, exactly like that morning when I’d been shaken from my slumber by a terrible dream.
“They must be exhausted from their travel. I can speak with them tomorrow.”
Kaine cocked an eyebrow. “Silas will have a few choice words if you try to put him off.”
“He’ll have them either way,” I replied, rubbing at my chest to try and alleviate the pressure.
“Now you’ve gone and dirtied your shirt,” Kaine fussed, knocking my hand away to surveil the smear of dirt I’d left.
“Even more reason to postpone,” I said.
Kaine muttered a few words under his breath, the ends of his fingers sparkling. A tingling sensation spread across my torso, and I looked down just in time to watch the stain vanish from the material.
“There, good as new.”
“You’re too good at that,” I said, admiring the unblemished material.
“I got it honest. Pops was a butler for some posh creep in the city before they threw him out. Taught me how to keep my nose—and shirt—clean.”
“He’d be proud.”
Kaine snorted a laugh. “Right, I’m sure. Glad he’s already in the grave, because no amount of cleaning spells are going to remove the blood from these hands. Now, are you going to come willingly, or am I going to have to drag you back to the hall?”
“Just a moment longer,” I said, turning back to the bed of wildflowers. I wanted to soak in all I could from that island of peace I’d found there amongst the wheat.
Kaine moved closer, standing beside me as we both looked over the colorful blooms.
“You know, all of a sudden, I’m in no rush.”
“What do you say, Rudderkin?”
The name pulled me back into the present, and I blinked at the man sitting diagonally from me.
He looked about my age, with soft green hair the same shade as the lily pads that dotted the pond at Tobias’s family chateau.
His leporine ears rose from the crown of his head, pointing straight upward, and one of them twitched ever so slightly as he waited for my reply.
“Forgive me,” I replied, shifting in my seat just enough to relieve the pressure at the base of my tail. “I’m afraid I missed the question.”
The delegates were not amused. Yet, none of them hid their discontent as poorly as the green-haired man who originally voiced the question. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as he sucked in an annoyed breath.
“Delegate Silas was asking if the most recent action from the Council should be considered a violation of the Unseen treaty?” Kaine explained, appearing over my shoulder.
Thank the gods he was listening.
“The answer you’re looking for is yes,” Silas added, leaning forward to prop his elbows on the table.
“They have removed us from the Council for the foreseeable future. They give excuses of threats of Mortal uprisings, saying that they cannot continue negotiations whilst under such duress. We told them that the Unseen have been under duress for centuries, and yet we still got our work done.”
“Most of us,” muttered the man beside him, cutting another glance in my direction.
“We cannot be quick to make accusations,” I said, leveling my gaze at Silas. “The Council must have its reasons as to why they have halted negotiations.”
“Because they never wanted them in the first place,” Silas countered. “And now they’ve found their excuse. This situation with the Mortals has come at the worst possible time. I have half a mind to think they drummed it up themselves, just to stall us.”
What Silas didn’t know is that the source of the Council’s turmoil lay sleeping in an apartment on the other side of Paradise. I wasn’t about to divulge that information.
“I will speak with the Council. Surely, they will listen to my concerns. Allow me to retrieve the answer you seek.”
The delegates grumbled amongst themselves.
“And what will you do if they do not agree to resume the negotiations?” asked Silas.
“I will make them listen.”
More grumbling.
Delegate Silas’s frown deepened. “This is no longer a battlefield we find ourselves on, Rudderkin. This is politics. And with all due respect, you are ill-equipped to handle the complexities of the tasks ahead.”
A snarl came from behind as Kaine’s fist slammed down on the table beside me, splintering the polished wood.
“You watch your tongue, boyo.”
The delegates' eyes were wide, all except Silas, who merely matched my gaze, not even a glint of fear in his eyes. I placed my hand over Kaine’s, the weight of every lingering eye in the room pressing down on my shoulders.
“You’re right,” I said, addressing Silas.
“I’m no politician. I’ve not a fraction of the schooling or refinement that you lot possess.
I was a scullery boy before I was a warrior, not even fit to pour afternoon tea.
I’m well aware of my limitations, which is why I asked each of you to be here.
To fill in the gaps, as it were. And let’s face it, lads. The gaps are wide with me.”
A few snickers were enough to keep me going.
“So, I ask that you have patience with me. Because where I falter in polish, I more than make up for in gumption. This may not be a battlefield, but that doesn’t mean that we’ve stopped fighting. And when it comes to fighting, I have a knack for coming out on top.”
The other delegates turned their gazes towards Silas, who stared me down with steely defiance. They respected him, but they knew better than to challenge me. So instead of giving them the opportunity, I asked a simple question.
“What would you have me do, Silas?”
Another twitch of his ear. “What?”
“If you were in my place,” I clarified. “What would you do?”