26. The Cage and the Key #2
“District ley lines are sovereign,” said Branthis Corr, the Councilor in charge of Mana and Light Logistics. “To interfere violates the Charter of Veins.”
Expecting this resistance, Auryn unfurled a scroll from her satchel and placed it on the Circle of Rule.
The Polis glimmered, and Auryn channeled mana into it from her fingertips.
The crystal responded eagerly. From the surface, a light rose towards the domed ceiling.
An image appeared, identical to the document laying on the table.
“Article Twelve of the Glassbound Treaty,” she said without stopping to gloat at the shocked looks on the Councilors’ faces, “states that in the case of mass threat, sovereignty may be bypassed in favor of preservation. Magical warding included.”
The chamber quieted again.
No one could argue it.
Not with the image right in their faces.
Not with the Circle of Rule responding Auryn’s mana as the rightful Sokar.
A beat.
Then another.
More signing and whispering.
The vote was called.
The majority sided with the Sokar.
A small victory.
And yet…
“Given the Sokar’s lack of field experience,” Draevan Sol drawled, “it would be prudent if implementation fell to the Master of Strategic Mana Flow.”
“We already have schematics prepared,” Auryn said coolly, slamming a second scroll down. “Refined. Tested. You’ll find no fault in the backbone algorithms.”
Draevan read it. His expression did not change.
“Sound,” he admitted. “Advanced, even. A remarkable understanding of ley function and shield interaction.”
He looked at her then.
“But dangerously theoretical. This is not the laboratory, Sokar.”
The vote was called.
Draevan voted against Auryn’s participation in the effort, and many hands rose to follow his.
Until the Resh’Agar raised his hand to vote for her involvement. “The city will burn if you let your drones mill about, Draevan, while the person most qualified is benched on the sidelines. If you want the issue resolved, you will vote for the Sokar to lead the charge.”
Several votes immediately shifted back to Auryn. Enough to tip the scales in her favor.
She turned back to the Council.
“The votes have been carried out and there are no further motions from Us at this time,” she nodded.
Kailorien raised a hand. “If there are no further motions from the Council, this session will come to a close.”
All were silent.
Auryn spoke next.
“The next session is in three days. We propose a motion for the opening. Topic of discussion will be the outbreak of recent illness in the Commons and the Rising. Temple resources must be allocated per regulations clearly stipulated in the Doctrine of Preservation. We will be launching an investigation as to why the Council has violated this by withholding aid to those who need it most.”
More whispers.
More signing.
Faces weren’t confused now.
Only angry.
Furious.
Auryn held her head high. “If the Resh’Agar does not protest, this session will be adjourned.”
Kailorien raised his hand, and the Council was called to a close.
One by one, the Councilors filed out of the Axis Hall, their flowing, ornate robes whispering over the white marble. Some turned to her as they left, bowing their heads. Others, like Draevan, ignored her entirely. And still, Kailorien didn’t turn. He could have been a statue.
Auryn exhaled slowly, her pulse still sharp in her throat. She didn’t move. Not even when the last of the shadows disappeared through the archway, leaving the hall cloaked in reverberant silence.
At her side, Lu’ma remained still as a pillar, her scrolls gathered in patient arms. From across the table, Kailorien finally stirred. Arms crossed, eyes shadowed beneath his lashes.
Auryn’s voice came quiet, thoughtful. “Six months ago, I would’ve bowed.”
Kailorien’s gaze flicked to her. “Six months ago, you weren’t ready.”
“I was. You just didn’t know it yet.”
The look on his face shifted—vigilance softening into quiet amusement.
“Well, you made quite an impression,” he drawled.
She didn’t meet his eyes. Not yet. Her heart was still recovering from what he’d whispered earlier, the echo of his Bond-voice lingering low in her belly. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it. He was smug enough for one day.
“Good. Then I’ve accomplished what I wanted. There was opposition, but they’ll see reason.”
A beat.
Kailorien sighed. “I meant it as a compliment, but you should know I don’t approve of everything you said.”
“I don’t need you to compliment me. Just tell me the truth.”
He shifted in his seat, relaxing his stiff posture and running a hand through his hair.
“Bringing up the temple resources? So soon? Auryn, that wasn’t part of our plan.
These men have been walking around with blindfolds to keep their sanity, and you’re trying to tear them off all at once—to stick their faces in the mud of their surroundings. They won’t thank you for that.”
“Their resentment isn’t anything new,” she countered, turning to face him. “I’ve decided to face them, so they’ll stop throwing daggers at my back. I can block them from the front much easier.”
His blue eyes swirled dark. Conflicted. He stood from his chair and turned.
Her heart skipped with understanding. “Is that why you didn’t support my motion for the next session? Because you’re trying to keep me out of this?”
He made a tsk sound with his tongue. “Void take you, Auryn. You think you can win in one risky gambit? Against them?”