Chapter Twenty #3
“There were relics of the early church that were lost during a purge around the same time the apocrypha were removed from the Codex. I came across a list of those items and their last known locations, and I shared it with Zara. I believed—and she agreed—that they were likely magically imbued and could have extraordinary powers beyond anything we’ve known.
I told you just days ago about her research into imparting magic into an object.
It seems that she did act on my directions, though I don’t believe she managed to find any of the original items.”
My eyes meet Ronan’s again. Extraordinary powers. The torch.
“Do you still have this list?”
“Yes, sir. I have a copy of it in my chambers.” Ronan gestures to one of the guards, who leaves to begin the search. “Did you manage to find the book of apocrypha in the Guild?”
“No,” I say. “It might have helped if we had known to look for it at all. Why did you tell her to hide it? Why not instruct her to destroy it if you thought it was so dangerous?”
Cyrus goes red in the face. “I thought there was a chance that we might need it someday. If our other options failed. And I knew that would be unacceptable to the God-King. I deeply regret lying to you, your majesty, but I believed I was acting in the best interests of the crown and the kingdom.”
Ronan rises, and the rest of us stand as well. “Lord Cyrus of House Horatio, you are hereby charged with treason against the crown of Selara.”
“Ronan, you can’t be serious,” says Quinn.
“You are removed from your position as Grand Vizier, effective immediately. You have the right to petition your case to the magistrate—”
“Ronan!”
“—and you may represent yourself in that trial, or you may request counsel. Out of respect for your years of dedicated service, you will not be imprisoned, but you are to be escorted to your chambers, where you will remain in confinement for the duration of the proceedings.”
Cyrus holds his head high, nodding his acceptance of Ronan’s terms.
“Ronan, come on,” says Quinn. “He obviously made a massive mistake, but treason?”
“What else would you call betraying the sovereign? Scheming against me with someone who wanted me dead?” He slams the table again.
“We are at war! Maybe there was a time when I could sit here and allow people to conspire against me. Maybe there was a time when I could wait and see what they were planning, hoping that I could figure out who was working against me before they were able to act, but that time has passed. I won’t repeat the same mistakes.
I will not put myself or anyone else,” he says, glancing at me, “at risk. Not again.”
He exhales deeply, sighing and resting his hand on his chair, exhausted. I reach out and lace his fingers with mine, and he returns my grasp gratefully.
I’m on your side.
“Typhon and Quinn, since I have no indication that you were involved or had knowledge of your father’s dealings, you may keep your positions pending his trial. But you are confined to the palace for its duration.”
Typhon nods, mirroring his father’s dejected stare, but Quinn is defiant. “I have never done anything but support you. To call that into question is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
“I’m not calling it into—”
“Don’t.” She wheels out from behind the table. “If that’s all, your majesty.” She bends forward in a mocking bow.
Ronan pauses for a moment, torn between yelling at her for defying him and begging for her forgiveness. In the end, he does neither. “You’re dismissed.”
Taran directs the guards to take Cyrus into custody as Quinn tears from the room, slamming the door behind her.
“Sir, I want you to know that I support you fully. I had no idea of my father’s dealings. If there’s anything I can do—”
“Thank you, Typhon. That will be all.”
Typhon bows low and takes his leave, looking regretfully back at Ronan. I’m certain he’s telling the truth. Not only has he been a loyal friend to Larus, but he has also spent the last several years in Nithyria and would have been unlikely to know what Cyrus was up to.
“Did I go too far?” Ronan asks once it’s just us and Taran in the room, his voice raw, fraying at the seams.
“No,” I say with certainty. “No, you did exactly the right thing. He lied to you, repeatedly. Whatever his motivations, he has shown he can’t be trusted. I realize that probably sounds somewhat ironic coming from me.”
“You came clean,” says Taran.
“If Cyrus had come to me like you did, it would have been a different conversation. But to find out like this? I have no idea if I can believe a word that he says. For all I know, all of that was a lie manufactured on the spot to save his skin.”
“Do you believe him?” I ask. “Do you think he really tried to stop Zara’s research?”
Ronan shakes his head somberly. “No. It’s hard to say because he’s such a difficult man to read, but if I had to guess from his feelings, I’d say that he supported it. Encouraged it, even. The part about the list of relics seemed true enough, though.”
“The torch, Ronan.”
He nods. “I thought the same thing.”
But even if the torch is one of those relics, what are we going to do with it? None of us know anything about alchemy. None of us really understand magic.
“We have to go back to the Guild,” I realize. “Cyrus said Zara kept a copy of the apocrypha there, and maybe she found some of those other relics too.”
“Fuck,” says Ronan, clutching his head in his hands.
“There’s so much going on. Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.
We’ve got to get through the next few days.
Hopefully Seth’s plans work, and Adria is forced to withdraw, buying us a few months.
We’ll still be blockaded, but if we can direct trade through Minar, we should be able to make it.
Then we use that time to find allies, raise more legions, and, if I can find someone I can trust in the Guild to do it ethically, continue Zara’s research.
Hell, maybe it’ll give us an answer to the ash problem, because according to Zara, that’s still going to be there after the war is over.
And even if it can’t, I’d still like to know what’s going on with us, Sylvie.
Even if we can’t use whatever is happening with our magic in the war, I’d like to understand it. ”
“Agreed.”
“Oh, and I suppose somewhere in there, I need to put Cyrus on trial. But if I expose the sacrilege, the church is going to demand a halt to the research.”
“Ronan, the palimpsest said that being shadowbound was sacrilegious in itself.”
“Godsdammit, you’re right. Alright, so we can’t let the church know any of it, which means Cyrus can’t be put on trial because the temples have representation on the jury panels. So what do I do? Just keep him locked in his chambers until we’ve gotten everything we need?”
Taran and I shrug at each other.
“I can’t ask the other Viziers…in fact, I should probably question them to make sure he was working alone.” He leans back in his chair and covers his face with his hands, groaning. “Maybe we should just open the gates and let Adria in.”
“Don’t say that.” I grab his hand. “I know this is difficult, but we’ll figure it out. One day at a time.”
“Thank you for supporting me. Thank you both. Oh, and I suppose I need to find a way to earn Quinn’s forgiveness.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Three,” says Taran quietly.
“What did you do to her?” asks Ronan.
“I forbid her from seeing Seth. She showed up at his chambers, drunk. I didn’t imagine it would have gone well.”
“You did the right thing. No one should be seeing Seth. He’s insane.” I give Taran a meaningful glance. You’re better than him.
“Yes, I told her as much.”
“But she accused you of wanting to keep him to yourself,” says Ronan. His lips quirk into a smile in spite of everything. “Were you?”
“No, sir. Just doing my job.” Taran’s face gives nothing away. I find myself wishing I could sense his feelings at the moment. In part because I’m nosy, but mostly so I can beg him to run screaming in the other direction from my brother.
“Of course,” says Ronan with a wink. “Carry on.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Ronan squeezes my hand.
We’re not the only ones who deserve happiness, he told me.
It’s for that exact reason that Taran needs to run.