Roots
By the time Math caught up with Izhiik Talu—no longer a commander, not officially—he was halfway to Vilsenor.
It was a smart choice. Kaliri was closer but between their betrayal of Talu and Talu’s betrayal in return, odds were not good that Talu would’ve been welcome.
So, Vilsenor—locked in the most politely vicious of “border disputes” with Rokasmaa for the last fifty years.
He didn’t make it.
Math whistled merrily as he walked into the clearing created as trees and grasses uprooted themselves and moved to the side. Only one tree remained, a juniper tree whose craggy, twisting branches now trapped a struggling Izhiik Talu in their grasp.
“Not too uncomfortable, I hope?” Math said to him. “I made sure they didn’t hang you upside down. At your age, you probably would’ve had a stroke before I showed up.”
“Math?” Talu stared at him in stunned shock. “How did you find me?”
“Is that really what matters right now?”
Only then did it seem to really occur to Talu that he might be in danger.
He inhaled sharply and stopped struggling.
“I never wanted to hurt you, you know. I only shot you because … because I knew King Sanistral would kill me if I didn’t bring Kaiataris back, and even then, I made sure you didn’t die!
That has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
Math stared at the man. He seemed older now, more worn. And he was sick. Talu didn’t know it, but he had a degenerative heart condition that would kill him in a few years.
Math fixed it.
“Funny how everything you’ve done on my behalf has made me miserable,” Math commented. “I was like a pet to you. A mascot. And if I was a little slow to train, that was fine. I still had my uses.”
Talu forced a smile on his face as he strained at the branches holding him captive. “I’ve looked the other way for you all your life. Surely just once you can return the favor. Don’t kill me!”
“Kill you?” Math smiled grimly. “Who said anything about killing you? I’m here to punish you, not me.”
Talu sagged in relief. “Thank you. Just let me go and you’ll never have to see me again.”
If only that were true. It was the unfortunate side effect of what Math was now that it would be all too easy to see Talu, whenever the urge came to him.
“Not just yet,” Math said. “Like I said, I am here to punish you. You hurt more people than me. You ordered the deaths of your own knights, Talu. And treason? Really?”
He swallowed visibly. “I told you, I had my reasons—”
“Would you like to hear something hilariously ironic?” Math asked.
The man closed his mouth, his expression wary.
“It goes like this: little Empress Asali is Sun resonant.” Math waved a hand.
“I think her parents must have known and that’s why they left instructions to bring in another Sun-resonant person—Imar Shovan—as regent should anything happen to them.
Someone had to train the next ruler of the empire, right? ”
“You’re joking,” Talu wheezed.
“I’m not. Asali is Sun resonant and yet there is no way she was ever joining the Idallik Order, so I imagine in the next few years, we’d have seen a significant loosening of restrictions.”
Talu’s brows drew together, his expression trouble. “Would have seen?”
“Yeah. There’s nothing gradual about this now, thanks to you. Rokasmaa disbanded the Order.”
Talu’s eyes closed in grief. Math understood. He hadn’t celebrated either, even if the first words out of his mouth when Regent Shovan had asked how she could reward him had been: “Let me leave the Order.”
The Order had raised him, broken him, and saved him by accident. Losing it felt like failure, like shame, but it had been rotten to the core: there’d been no saving it.
“Can you blame them?” Math asked. “It’s the poorest-kept secret in the empire that an Idallik assassinated the old emperor and empress, and then you attempt a coup?
And do it so disastrously that it results in the capital being invaded for the first time in centuries?
” He continued, speaking right over Talu’s attempt to interrupt him.
“And don’t give me that story about how you just wanted recognition.
You wanted power. Power and wealth and your hand either on or behind the throne.
Bad timing, old man.” Math ordered the tree to lower Talu to the ground and release him, which it did.
Talu couldn’t hide his surprise. “That’s it? Your idea of punishment was a lecture?”
Math raised both eyebrows. “Are you complaining?”
“No, no, I—I’m just grateful.”
“Don’t be,” Math said, his smile cold. “Because as it happens, no. Your punishment isn’t just a lecture. It’s a curse.”
“—what?”
“A curse. You know, like in children’s stories.
Honestly, Sanistral gave me the idea. So here it is: nothing you do for your own advantage will ever succeed.
If the truth would gain you admiration, no one will believe you.
If a lie would gain you power, it will be as transparent as glass.
Money will slip through your fingers, valuables will crumble to dust. No one will listen to your orders, no one will respect your wisdom.
You have won yourself an ill wind that will affect you and you alone for as long as you live—and you’re going to live for a very long time. I will make sure of it.”
Talu’s eyes were wide, and his mouth dropped open in horror. Then—not unexpectedly—he gathered himself up. “You can’t do that. No one is powerful enough to cast such a curse.”
Technically, Talu wasn’t wrong. It had taken Math and Kai to cook up this little gem.
Math just smiled. “If you’d like to test it, keep heading to Vilsenor and tell the soldiers at the first posting that you’re requesting asylum.” Math paused. “Actually, don’t do that. You don’t want to spend time in a Vilsenor prison at your age.”
Talu’s mouth quirked. “I have to hand it to you, my boy. You have learned to talk a good game, but I don’t think—” He paused and stared at his hand, which was held out in a familiar pose, a pantomime that only made sense if one imagined Talu holding out a weapon.
For the first time since he’d been released from the juniper tree’s embrace, true fear returned to Izhiik Talu’s eyes.
“As a woman I admire said recently: Why would I leave you with your magic? That would be foolish, and I am not a fool. You can’t cast spells anymore.
You never will again.” Math made a shooing motion with his hands.
“Now be off with you. You’ve wandered into Souna territory and you are not Souna. You don’t want them to find you here.”
Talu’s fear transformed into horror. He turned and ran.
The Souna would leave Talu alone. Math had already seen to it.
“I still would have killed him,” Kai said as she became visible next to him.
Math took her hand and smiled.
“I know,” he told her fondly, “but I’m not as nice as you.”