Fire #2
“Sanis was short for Sanistral Lomar. At that party, I overheard much discussion about King Sanistral of Lomar.” She looked at him significantly. “That cannot be a coincidence.”
“It may not be, but he’s also Sanistral the Twenty-Seventh, and I bet he doesn’t have the faintest idea who you are.”
“But a descendant of a graven wizard is far more likely to take us seriously than the Idallik Order,” she pointed out. “And unless I’ve missed an announcement, Lomar has yet to issue an order for your execution.”
“That you know of,” Math muttered. “Lomar’s not exactly a bastion of virtue, Kai.
Maybe not as bad as Kaliri, but that’s not saying much.
And it’s a sovereign nation—what do you expect?
Even if King Sanistral believes you, Rokasmaa’s not going to welcome foreign troops crossing its borders just to help with ‘a little tree problem.’”
“But if he really is descended from the Sanistral I knew, he may give us access to resources we sorely need.” Her exasperation flared, sharp and bright. “It cannot possibly be a worse plan than throwing yourself on the mercy of people who’ve already decided you deserve to die.”
“I already said I wasn’t turning you over—”
“I meant you, Math.”
His mouth closed with a click.
Math didn’t trust his voice. He stared at the map without seeing it, his throat tight. He hadn’t realized until that moment how deeply he’d assumed she was the one in danger. That he was the shield. The protector. Not the one standing before the edge of a blade himself.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said at last, though his voice came out rougher than intended. “Lomar is still thousands of miles away. Even if we reached the border, and even if they let us in, there is still no guarantee their king will believe us—let alone offer aid.”
Kai’s lips curled faintly—not into a smile, but something smug. He felt it just as much as he saw it.
“What?” Math asked warily.
She tapped a spot on the map—an unmarked patch near the empire’s center.
He squinted. “There’s nothing there.”
“But there is something there,” she said. “The absence of a label gives me hope it remains undiscovered—and therefore, usable.”
“It’s been a thousand years. What could possibly still be—” He cut himself off mid-question as the answer struck him. “An archive. You think there’s an Illuminated archive still intact?”
She made a moue. “No. A more accurate description would be an undiscovered Illuminated waystation. I told you that my people have nothing like this … train…” She gestured around them.
“But that does not mean we lacked methods of transportation. The world was once bound by a network of waystations, each a magical portal linked to every other. If this station still functions—and if a descendant of Sanis has kept their node intact—then Lomar is not thousands of miles away. It is seconds away.”
“That’s a lot of ifs, Kai.” He folded his arms. “You don’t even know if it still works.”
“I do not,” she admitted. “But I know the option is superior to any you have suggested. Or do you plan to knock on the gates of Bashan and hope your execution order has expired?”
Math scowled. He didn’t want to admit it, but her “lot of ifs” sounded better than his.
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Math glanced back at the map. He was pretty sure that they’d reach the city later that evening. With luck, the darkness would make it easier to flee if it came to that.
He hesitated, then said: “We could split up.”
He was unsurprised when Kai gave him a hurt look.
“It’s … it’s logical,” he argued. “Alik wanted to arrest me, but weirdly, he also listened to what I had to say. And he didn’t just blindly agree with Commander Talu’s execution order, either. That was a surprise. I just wish I could be sure he wasn’t a Kaliri agent.”
“It can be most difficult to prove someone is not a thing.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Even if he is not, though, I thought you said that man loathes you.”
“He loathes grimmocks more,” Math said while simultaneously stamping down hard on the tiny little voice inside him that was pointing out that by most of the definitions Nuhzar cared about, Math himself qualified as a grimmock, too.
“He might not want to help me, but he won’t turn his back on a greater threat just to spite me.
Again, that’s assuming he’s not a foreign agent. ”
“What of this Commander Talu? How certain are you he is not a foreign agent?”
Math blinked. “Talu? Impossible.”
She stared at him, unimpressed.
Math exhaled. “Okay, fine, not impossible. Just…” Math scoffed.
“He’s the cenobium commander, Kai. If he was a Kaliri agent, why didn’t he throw open the gates of the fortress to them years ago?
And why jeopardize his position and the secret of those weapons the Kaliri have developed just to kill me? ”
She didn’t reply for nearly a minute, lost in thought. Finally, though, she said: “I do not know, but just because I cannot imagine a motivation does not mean it cannot exist. Of all the people you have described, he is the one whose behavior seems most inexplicable.”
Math made a face. “Except it’s not. He found out the same thing you did, Kai.
” He gestured to himself. “The thing with the plants. And because there were members of the knights who fell prey to those spores, it would’ve been easy to assume I was one of them.
Not really me at all anymore, but something that just looked like me.
Much as I may not like it, I can’t blame him for jumping to the conclusion I couldn’t be trusted. ”
“‘Couldn’t be trusted’ dwells a long way down the road from ‘should be executed.’” She raised a hand to forestall his rebuttal. “I understand your point and I shall keep myself from leaping to judgments,” Kai said, “but I ask that you do so as well.”
“I’ve known him all my life, Kai. He’s been like a father to me.”
Her eyes took on a sharp, flinty look, even as he felt her conviction. “Let us hope that means he cannot also be a villain.”