Chapter Twenty-Six
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
One more day . Sarai eyed the white column of Cobhran Tower to the east with grim resolution. She had no doubt that Cisuré would seek her out tonight.
She had the curious sensation of being perched on an executioner’s axe, watching as it tore sinew from bone in a shoddy stroke. It seemed that her friendship with Cisuré needed only one more blow to sever it. And while she would have held on for as long as it took, she doubted Cisuré would be as willing. Not when she had repeatedly brought the axe down herself.
A somber Gaius waited for her outside Aoran Tower, and she was hit by a wave of guilt so deep that she nearly dropped to her knees.
“I’m so sorry about the others.” She met his eyes without cowering. “If I hadn’t brought all of this on—”
“Forgive me, but I must stop you.” Gaius shook his head, holding up a hand. “We’ve lost many people to Tetrarchs Aelius and Tullus. Including Tetrarch Othus, as we’ve only just discovered. Some may blame you. But the only people at fault here are those doing the killing. The rest of us are only guilty of not keeping our heads down when trying to do the right thing.”
She halted at the familiarity of his response. Just like Telmar’s odd pronouncements the day he’d given her Kadra’s invitation to Aoran Tower.
“Gaius, I have an idea,” she breathed. “Where do the instructors live here?”
He looked unnerved at her change of subject. “Petitor Sarai, if you’re unwell— ”
“I need to see Telmar.”
Raising his eyes to the sky, Gaius muttered something about Kadra’s Petitor being as mad as he was. “Oh, alright then.”
She’d expected a magus’s offices to be grand, but Telmar’s abode, stashed in a corner of the Academiae’s Safsher Hall, was barely bigger than her bedroom. Though that likely had to do with the bottles littered across the floor.
She’d knocked at first, then pushed the door open when he hadn’t responded. Plumes of dust wafted about his cramped office, clinging to heavy curtains that only let slivers of light through. The shelves, laden with books on posture and technique, looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades, but the crates of ibez scattered around the room were spotless. Gaius took one look at the mess and indicated that he’d rather stand guard outside.
She pointedly cleared her throat. The figure dozing in his chair, wrapped in his cloak, didn’t budge. Grabbing the closest bottle, she uncorked and held it under his nose.
Telmar jackknifed to his feet, grabbing at the bottle. She held it out of reach, waiting as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.
“I know about the scuta,” she said without preamble.
He halted mid-yawn. All color bled from his face.
“So, that’s it,” she said. “That’s why you drink.”
“I’ve said nothing— nothing to you,” he stammered, collapsing into his chair. “Get out! Don’t drag me down with you.”
“I’m not going to involve you.” She sat across him. “But I need evidence. You were honest with me from the start, and I never understood why.”
“Should have listened, barmaid.” He grabbed the bottle from her.
“How long have you known?” She held up a placating hand when he shook his head furiously. “It doesn’t matter. My word is useless without evidence, and I’m set for trial tomorrow. Your secrets will die with me.”
He took a gulp of wine before speaking. “Three years ago, I earned tenure as an instructor here.” His eyes glazed over as he returned to those days. “I had everything I wanted. Never so much as heard a word of reprimand.”
“But?” she prompted when he trailed off.
“There was a storm. I saw one of those things explode and down a block of insulae.” His face tightened. “There was so much screaming. And the fire … it burnt out of control before we could do a thing. Forty-two dead. A younger magus with me saw it, too, and asked afterward, about why the scuta had exploded.” Telmar swallowed. “Tullus’s vigiles pulled her body from an alley days later. And I knew. And I couldn’t stop knowing.”
“Aelius and Tullus are shadow owners in that iron mine, aren’t they?” she asked wearily.
He nodded. “There used to be a few records. Transfers from Aelius’s coffers that matched investment receipts in the mine. But they got rid of them after that magus’s questions. I snuck a look beforehand but it didn’t matter. No court would have touched them.” His bloodshot eyes met hers. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything for you.”
She watched him, let the silence unravel until he started nervously glancing at every corner of the room.
“Where’s your scutum?”
He turned white. “Get out.”
“I’ll pay you anything if you give it to me.” When he attempted to move past her to leave his office, she blocked his path with a hand, wincing at the contact.
“I won’t die, Petitor Sarai. Not after all I’ve endured!” he cried, wine sloshing over his floor as he gesticulated wildly. “Don’t you think I’d have done something if I could?”
“But you have ,” she reminded him urgently. “You kept one of them, didn’t you? Just in case your life was ever in peril or someone in the future could do this for you. Telmar, you wouldn’t have to hide from your thoughts anymore.”
His face crumpled. “Please leave.” He fell to his knees. “Please just leave. ”
Her throat worked, eyes burning. “This is my only chance too. Tomorrow at the Aequitas, it all ends for me without that scutum.”
He said nothing. She could force him now. Snap every bone in his wrist until he conceded. But if he was right about Aelius’s eyes everywhere and he died for this as Decimus had, then she’d never forgive herself.
“I have until tomorrow.” Her voice was hoarse. “So do you.”
She left.
Sarai’s spirits deflated when she spotted the pale-haired figure waiting for her at the Aoran Tower Gate. She’d imagined this conversation a thousand times since Admia’s Summoning, and delayed it to the last moment possible. She had the awful sense that it wasn’t going to hurt any less. Assuring Gaius that she could handle herself from there, she dismounted and pasted on a smile.
“I was about to head in your direction.”
Cisuré beamed, shooting a wary glance at Gaius. She tilted her head toward a garden folly not too far away. They walked, the sky deepening to indigo above. Both moons were slivers in the east. She felt miles from the determined young woman she’d been two and a half months ago.
“Well?” Cisuré whispered once they’d reached the garden folly. “Did you search his tower?”
She took a steadying breath. “I did.”
Cisuré clutched her, eyes wide with excitement. “And?”
“He has an orange grove, a massive number of books, and a great deal of wine,” she explained, as Cisuré looked increasingly baffled. “I searched every inch, but there’s nothing Tetrarch Aelius would find nefarious.”
Cisuré’s brown eyes held hers for a moment, emotion bleeding from them.
When she spoke, each word was devoid of inflection. “So you’re telling me that Kadra is this protective of an empty home.”
It took everything in Sarai to remain expressionless. “It’s his home. He values his privacy. ”
“But that isn’t true, is it?” The other girl’s voice held a hard edge. “Because he brought you there.”
“Only until I find a house of my own—”
In a blur of movement, Cisuré shoved her against the folly wall. She pulled back her sleeve with a sneer. “ Liar .”
Sarai went stock-still at the sight of zosta gleaming on Cisuré’s armilla. She’d been Examining her.
“I’ve spent weeks hearing about how he watches you like a wolf, and your little fascination with him is so obvious .” Cisuré’s words came faster and faster until each one was a hiss. “I was hoping I could trust you, but he’s gotten to you. What did you find in his tower?”
“I honestly found nothing relevant.”
A weaker woman would have quailed at the disgusted look Cisuré shot her. “That isn’t for you to decide. What. Did. You. Find?” At her silence, the other girl’s grip tightened on her shoulders. “Are you really going to be this foolish? Losing everything for a man?”
“I would have done the same for you!”
“And you can’t do that if the Metals Guild kills you!” Cisuré yelled, and, for a moment, her friend of old seemed to resurface past the ice-cold woman before her. “Just stop! You could escape Kadra’s thumb and advocate to Tetrarch Aelius. Shape the law the way you’ve always wanted. You’ll be safe—”
“Safe from who?” Sarai snapped. “Aelius and Tullus knew the rods were faulty! How much do you know, Cisuré? Are they powerful madmen I should follow at every cost? Or wise, benevolent rulers who can do no wrong? Have you even decided? I’ve doubted Kadra over and over. But have you ever doubted Aelius?”
Cisuré went white. A gravid silence hovered between them, the gulf yawning wider with each breath. There was no bridging it.
“He’s my Tetrarch,” Cisuré finally said. “He’s only ever been good to me.”
She stared at the sky to halt the flow of tears. “I need you to believe me. Aelius’s former Petitor was pulverized to death like I nearly was. Several Petitors realized that the scuta were a lie and that Aelius and Tullus were likely behind it. Then, they were suddenly dead. Hav?d , even Othus died the same way.”
Cisuré’s pupils quivered. Bewilderment passed over her face, before morphing into anger. “You promised me you wouldn’t dig into Sidran Tower,” she whispered.
Sarai blinked. “You knew Othus was connected to my Fall?”
“You broke your promise.” Cisuré looked like she couldn’t believe it, like Sarai had somehow done her a grave wrong. “You lied to me. I thought the gods had taught you better than to dash headlong into things after your Fall. But you’ll never stop.”
Sarai’s last tether to sanity snapped.
“Don’t turn what happened to me into some moralistic lesson,” she snarled. “I was fourteen, Cisuré. What were the gods punishing me for?”
“They probably didn’t want you to turn out as you have.” Tears welled in the other girl’s eyes. She wiped at her face. “But you’ll see the truth soon. I’ll make you see it if I have to.”
Cisuré departed without a backward glance. Only once her silhouette had vanished did Sarai release the sobs building in her chest. Turning in the direction of the journeying moons, she counted her paces back to Aoran Tower. Each one a shattered fragment of a friendship that had run its course.