Chapter XXXVI
XXXVI
ONE OF THE GREAT SYTRECIAN PHILOSOPHERS ONCE argued that the concept of home is, at its core, about safety. That no matter how familiar you may become with a place, no matter how long it is your abode—if it ever loses its sense of comfort, you can no longer truly call it by that name.
I cannot describe what I feel as the Transvect approaches the lush green hills of Solivagus. I was here for a year. I left only four months ago. It is as familiar a place as I have ever been, outside of Suus.
But this was never a home.
As the Transvect begins its dip toward the Seawall, Livia stirs, standing and pressing her face to the glass as she looks ahead. Youthful curiosity in her peering, even if it is tinged with something heavier. “So this is it?”
Aequa nods absently, her response unseen.
Eidhin and I exchange grim glances and say nothing.
The conversation was subdued but cheerful enough for a while, after the Necropolis.
A few none-too-veiled jibes from Aequa and Eidhin about Emissa—partly for Livia’s benefit, who doesn’t know why we really stopped there, and partly to voice their continuing disapproval of her—but otherwise, given that I had no desire to risk breaking a Silencium in front of Callidus’s sister, the talk revolved around lighter matters.
This last half hour, though, has seen us quiet. We’ve spent it in mostly reflective silence as we’ve skimmed the rippling, glittering Sea of Quus.
For Eidhin, Aequa, and me, it’s our first time back.
“And these columns are some sort of defence? How does that work?” Livia turns. Not oblivious to the mood, I think. More uncomfortable in it. She says it as if it’s a question for all of us, but unconsciously or not, she’s directing it toward Eidhin.
“The Seawall is pre-Cataclysm.” Eidhin answers politely and only after a few seconds, distractedly, when he realises neither Aequa nor I are going to jump in.
Livia cocks her head to the side slightly, smiling. Intent. “You’ve never wondered?”
“We spent many classes analysing the potential mechanisms.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“It was not.”
Livia chuckles as if he was making a joke, then awkwardly turns back to the window as Eidhin continues to stare distractedly in the opposite direction.
Between them, I catch Aequa’s half wince, half smirk, though she does her best to hide it.
I feel the corners of my own lips threaten to pull upward before I lean forward and pretend to rub my face.
The tension dissipated, at least briefly, at least for us.
Our humour inevitably fades as the great stone beast shakes itself and rises again after almost touching its access point in the Seawall. I pause. Focus.
The anchoring point to our right slides by in my mind, pulsing in harmony with the stone slabs that form the base of the Transvect.
I swallow, the unease of their proximity still with me.
I can’t touch them from in here, thankfully—the only reason I’ve been able to push their presence to the back of my thoughts.
Otherwise, I’d likely have spent the entire trip terrified that I might accidentally use Adoption on them and send us crashing into the sea.
“You think the Principalis will be waiting for us?” Aequa assumes my trepidation stems from what’s coming.
“He sure as all hells isn’t letting us roam free.” My statement elicits an agreeing grunt from Eidhin.
Silence again. My gaze goes to Livia, still watching the sun-drenched rolling green outside the window.
She’s been nothing but polite to me since her outburst before Placement.
I tried to talk to her about what she said, a few days after.
She apologised. Said all the right things in a perfectly cordial tone.
There was no doubt she didn’t mean any of it.
Even so. Nothing’s changed in her posture, but I can see her expression reflected in the window, broken by the trees rushing past below. She doesn’t have the history, here. But she knows that this is where it happened.
As I look at her now, I’m reminded that she is still Callidus’s sister. I cannot get rid of her. I cannot trust her. But I refuse to put her in any danger.
“There he is,” growls Eidhin as the Academy platform comes into view, breaking the moment. Livia turns at his words, manages to catch my observation of her before I can look away. There’s a flicker of anger in her eyes. Gone in an instant.
I turn, and focus on Veridius as the Transvect slides to a smooth stop.
The Principalis waits with his hands clasped behind him.
A stiff breeze whips his blue cloak and ruffles his dirty-blond hair.
His bright blue eyes look momentarily tired as they track our coming to a halt, but when the door opens and we disembark, his smile somehow smooths away any fatigue I thought I saw.
It’s warm. Welcoming. So genuine. Just like always.
“Hail! You made it.” His biggest smile is reserved for me, but he includes everyone in his greeting.
“I am so glad you came. I know the festival can be such a busy time in Caten.” No hint of annoyance that I’ve brought the others.
I didn’t forewarn him, but he was the one who organised the Transvect.
He was surely told as soon as we got on board.
“Quintus!” The lie of the broad smile I paste on almost physically hurts as I step forward, embracing him one-armed.
“It’s good to see you again.” These months steeped in the politics of Caten have taught me much.
My greeting is too enthusiastic to be anything but false, but it’s a better cover than the cold response I’d dearly love to give the man.
He’s expecting the latter, and I know it wouldn’t faze him.
This way, at least, he has no idea what the others know. No idea what I’ve told them.
Eidhin and Aequa do an admirable job of mimicking my pleasantries, and then Veridius turns to Livia. His smile gentler. “And you must be Livia Ericius.”
She does not take his outstretched hand. “Yes.”
“Hm.” Veridius drops his hand, smile drifting into something gentle and sad. Understanding. “Welcome, Livia.”
She gives a brusque nod, and we start walking.
“The island has been searched?” Eidhin asks the question.
I spare a glance for the vast, undulating green of Solivagus, moments before it’s hidden as we leave the platform and begin up the steep path toward the Academy.
Rippling treetops and winding rivers that shine in the summer sun. It looks so peaceful from up here.
“Thoroughly. Three months of combing every gully and thicket. No sign of any Anguis,” Veridius assures us.
“So they’re not moving the Academy back to Caten?
” Aequa, this time, though I was about to ask the same.
After their initial failure to strip Religion of their control of the Academy, Military pushed to shift it away from Solivagus.
To “ensure the safety” of its students in the future.
Which, of course, would also have resulted in giving them access to the island.
Veridius shakes his head. “Governance is siding with us on that one.” He sighs. “But I’ve spoken of these things enough for a lifetime, these past months. And in the midst of it all, heard not nearly enough about how you’re all doing. How are you finding Caten?”
The next minutes are spent in brief, polite conversation.
Eidhin provides a typically terse overview of his time in Military.
Aequa focuses mostly on her apprenticing with Aedile Glaucius, mentioning Tertius Ericius only in passing.
And I talk about my arm, the progress it’s made healing, how I’m coping.
Veridius plays the part of interested former mentor to perfection, not prying, but to all appearances sincerely interested, genuinely pleased with our successes and sympathising with the challenges we’ve faced.
As always, I cannot decide how much of it, if any, is false.
I’m distracted about halfway up the hill by a strange sensation, something scratching at the back of my mind. I carefully allow myself to focus. A faint pulse of Will? It’s similar, but feels different, too. Somewhere off to our left.
As if in response to my examination, leaves rustle and twigs crack in the direction I’m looking.
I pause. No one else seems to have heard anything.
I feel the imbued metal sitting snug around my torso, beneath my tunic.
I’ve been practicing with it for weeks, ever since I finally forged a good enough set of pieces.
I don’t want to use it, not in front of Veridius of all people. But I will if I have to.
“What is it?” Aequa’s noticed my hesitation.
“Thought I heard something.”
“Probably just an animal,” Veridius says, motioning me on.
I’m reluctant, but the thick woods whisper in the breeze and nothing more. And whatever I briefly felt—if I felt anything—is gone again.
Soon enough we’re passing through the Academy’s Will cage and into the sweeping, immaculately kempt grounds. Aside from its complete lack of bustle, everything looks … normal. Untouched. Exactly as I remember it.
“I have to apologise. I had some unannounced visitors arrive this morning, and I need to attend to them before we can talk,” says Veridius, mostly to me.
No hint of suspicion in the statement, but he has to wonder at the timing of the Military delegation showing up today.
Ulciscor, I assume, will have kept his name well clear of any involvement in its arrangement.
“Will you four be able to entertain yourselves for a few hours until dinner? Aequa, perhaps you can show Livia to the girls’ dormitory.
Feel free to use the Class Three rooms.”
“Of course we can,” I say. Not even a guard to watch us? I wait for the rest.
Veridius pulls four stone cuffs from his pocket. “Oh. And while you’re on the island, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to wear these.”
“What are they?” asks Livia with a frown, examining them.