Chapter 5 #3
The Light considered him gravely. It was hard to tell what they thought, they had always cultivated a deliberately opaque expression.
Sitting in judgement of thorny moral problems was part of their reason for existence and Kai felt there was a great deal of judging going on right now.
The Light said finally, “Then why tell me at all?”
“I can’t lie to you.” Kai let his breath out. He corrected, “I could, but I don’t want to.”
The Light tipped their head in acknowledgment. “Then what do you want me to do with this information?”
That was easier to answer. “If he kills me again, you’ll know what happened. And act as you feel warranted.”
“I see.” The Light digested that. It was a less fraught silence, but not by much. “And if he kills me?”
That was something entirely different. “Then I’ll bring the Enalin consensus his head in a bag.”
“So you would.” The Light’s gaze was ironic, but Kai thought they understood now. “And I should not do the same for you?”
That one was easy. “You believe in justice but you won’t take a life in exchange for a life.”
The Light sighed a little and leaned back. “And what about this expositor Arnsterath. Was she truly a demon, one of your kin?”
“In a way.” Kai dropped his gaze to the table. This part was still hard to talk about. “She was Arn-Nefa of Kanavesi Saredi.”
The Light considered that for a long moment. “One of your own people? You had no idea such a person still lived in the mortal world?”
“No, I had no clue.” Kai swirled the dregs in his cup.
“I know some of the other demons released from the Cageling Court survived long enough to return to the underearth. She wasn’t one of them.
I thought she had given up, and drifted from her human body.
She wasn’t—” He had to stop and swallow down a lump of guilt and angry bile.
“She gave me to understand that she would never seek another human host.”
The Light’s gaze went distant as if they tried to recall the events of that day.
“Her opinions seem to have radically shifted since then. She has committed crimes by participating in the conspiracy, by subjugating a person, even an expositor, as a familiar. When you were Kai-Enna, did it seem that she lacked empathy for those who were different from herself?”
Kai stared at the carved wood of the couch’s platform, tracing the line of a kingfisher’s wing. “I didn’t think so.” Had he just never understood Arnsterath’s character, all those years ago when they were both Saredi?
The Light refilled both cups. “Would you find her to bring her to the council’s justice, or find her to see if she would accept your help?”
“Accept my help?” Kai knew what Ziede would say about that, and she wasn’t wrong.
“Arnsterath abandoned me, when she was Arn-Nefa.” Saying it aloud scraped open an unexpectedly raw wound.
He had never known if the Saredi would have rejected him because he had taken a host by force from an enemy.
Arn-Nefa and the other demons had been all that was left, and they had rejected him, so it was hard not to believe he would have fared any better with Enna’s family.
“She did indeed,” the Light agreed, watching him with that far-too-knowing gaze. “You were barely more than a child.”
Kai almost snorted. “We remember that differently.”
“A youth, then,” the Light conceded. “She didn’t know if Bashasa would have exploited you, or killed you or allowed you to be killed.”
“She didn’t ask me to come with her.” Kai had never said that part aloud before. She had never given him a chance. “She tried to drain my life, like I was…” A legionary, an expositor, a Hierarch. An enemy.
The Light said, “She was as wounded and demoralized as you. She was not acting with a whole heart or mind. We all react to such things in different ways. Some of us are tested, and some of us fail.”
From anyone else, this conversation would have been filled with thorns and bitter annoyance, but Kai had seen the Light struggle not to fail their own tests.
With so many of the Enalin’s chosen leaders already executed by the Hierarchs, the Light had been the one to lead Enalin and Nibet and the remnants of the northeast into battle.
But the real purpose of the Light’s existence had always been justice and reconciliation.
Kai knew how difficult cleaving to that purpose had been, after the war when the destruction the Hierarchs had left behind had seemed insurmountable.
Kai said, “You think I should give her the benefit of the doubt?”
“Not then,” the Light said. “She rejected you, you owed her nothing.”
“And now?”
The Light made an open-handed gesture. “It will depend on whether she comes to you as an enemy or not. If not, you have to ask yourself what we owe to each other as living beings.”
Kai rubbed his eyes and didn’t say, I don’t want to do that, I want everything to be simple. Nothing was ever simple. “I’ve answered your questions, now will you answer mine about the expedition?”
The Light’s expression turned pensive. “The rest I’ll wait to say until the others are here, but the reason the envoy called for a meeting was a particular artifact, found in one of the abandoned dwellings the expedition is exploring in Sun-Ar. It was a badge for a Hierarch’s expositor.”
Unease ran in prickles along Kai’s back.
The Light read his expression and said, “It’s disturbing, but it could be from long before the war, an old symbol repurposed for the Hierarchs’ invasion.
There are many such symbols, from Nibet, from the old tribes of Enalin before we united, that have changed their meaning over time. But we must be certain.”
Kai pushed the surge of nerves away. “Would you speak to Dahin now? He’s been working on this for a while.”
Dahin walked into the room and stopped abruptly. “Well, you’ve changed,” he said, planting his hands on his hips. “This seems a little one-sided, going into scholarly battle with a child.”
“You have not changed, sadly.” The Tescai-lin’s expression was cool. “And only a Blessed would consider a scholarly discussion a battle.”
“Oh, there you are.” Dahin was pleased. “I knew you were still in there.”
While Dahin was setting out his maps and papers in front of the Tescai-lin, Kai let Reanis conduct him to the guest quarters so he could take advantage of a bathing room that included the luxuries of warm running water, privacy, soap, and scented oil.
From Ziede’s heart pearl, he knew the others had just arrived, that Tahren was carefully lowering the ascension raft to a tight landing on a small plot of ground in a kitchen garden that was currently lying fallow.
Kai told Ziede, I think Dahin was lying about coming here for research.
I thought so too, she replied, when he didn’t demand that we put together our own expedition to Sun-Ar immediately. But there didn’t seem a point in starting that fight before we got here.
Kai agreed, but he wished he knew what Dahin was up to. And why he couldn’t just tell them. But Dahin had been like this for years. Kai shouldn’t be frustrated by it. He was, but he shouldn’t be.
The others had been shown to the guest quarters by the time Kai got out of the bath, and he found one of their hastily packed bags waiting in the outer room.
Digging through it, he found a pair of plain brown leggings, but the only clean shirt and skirt was of a rich blue, and the coat stuffed under them was embroidered in faded silver over black brocade all along the hems and cuffs.
There was a black veil in the pocket, cobweb fine and just translucent enough to conceal Kai’s eyes.
He knew Bashasa had given it to him, though he couldn’t remember when.
Bashasa had had a habit of producing a thing when Kai needed it, as if it was just something he happened to have with him.
Kai thought it might have been this veil, when Bashasa had never worn veils even in the places where they were in fashion, that had finally made him realize that all these casual gifts had been carefully chosen at some point.
This was more of an outfit for a formal event for Benais-arik’s court, but the heavier fabrics were sturdy and strong and would feel good in Belith’s cool evening weather.
And everything else they did in this city would now be with the blessing of the Tescai-lin, so there was no point in concealment anymore.
He tucked the veil away in the coat pocket.
Kai was already in the reception room, eating stuffed olives, when the others came in.
It was an area with less difficult furniture, meant for more intimate guests who wouldn’t consider informality an insult.
It was getting cooler as late afternoon approached evening, and round metal braisers had been lit for warmth.
Two Doorkeepers set out more plates of food and carafes and cups on the small tables.
“You see,” Tahren said to Sanja. “He didn’t drown. ”
The Tescai-lin walked in, with Dahin saying, “But you agree that the—”
The Tescai-lin said, “Stop talking while I greet your family.”
After being introduced to the Tescai-lin, Sanja retreated to Kai’s side, plopping down on the couch next to him. As the others exchanged greetings, she whispered, “Were they a kid when you first met them? Because from the stories I thought they were a lot bigger.”
“No, they were an adult.” He handed her a stuffed olive and nodded to a set of razor-edge spears mounted on the wall. “That’s the kind of weapon they fought with.”
Sanja eyed the spears. “What are they going to fight with now?”
“Their brain. They’re good at that, too.”