Chapter Thirty-Seven
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Two months later
Sarai spun a dagger in one hand, keeping her eyes on the weasel before her.
“I’m not here to bargain,” she reminded him. “The law’s been revised. You can’t make your Guildspeople work for longer than twelve hours under the table.”
Stones Guildmaster Albanus arranged flowers within an elaborate vase for the umpteenth time. “You know, this is Errigal porcelain.” He indicated the sleek finish. “Estimated at six thousand aurei. It could be yours.”
“No, thank you.” The Guildspeople who kept “passing by” the open window of his office looked relieved at her rejection. One man, who seemed to think he was well concealed in a corner outside, raised his eyebrows. “Two people are already dead of overwork. I’m here as a courtesy. Next time, it’ll be with a warrant.”
Albanus sat up at that. “You lot think you can waltz in and ruin our businesses. We employ this city. We’re worth far more and you pander to them ?”
“Worth far more,” she repeated. Her dagger ceased its spinning. “Worth far more?”
Past the window, the eavesdropping Guildsman smiled faintly.
She rose. “For the last time, I’m not here to negotiate. If Tetrarch Kadra or I hear of any violation, your quarries will be taken from you.”
He smiled nastily. “Try, and I’ll send both of you right back to Death’s door— ”
Her dagger shot out of her hand. Light flashed on porcelain and Albanus shrieked as the vase crashed to the ground, shattering.
“Six thousand aurei!” He clutched the pieces, trying to gather as many as possible.
Selecting several, she stalked out of his office and flung them in a nearby bush, nodding to the ill-concealed Guildsman.
“Try a different corner,” she advised dryly.
A slow, strangely familiar smile rose to his lips. “Interesting. It didn’t take.”
His voice was … incredible. Soothing, yet sheathed in menace. A slow glide into icy waters. That was when it clicked. He reminded her of Kadra.
Sunlight hit his features as she backed away. Eyes widening, she opened her mouth when he placed a finger over it.
“You never saw me today. And you won’t notice me again unless I give you permission.” Nausea swamped her, vision blurring as he bent to whisper in her ear. “I’ll see you soon, Death-Summoner.”
She blinked, and wondered why she’d halted in the Guild’s empty courtyard for no reason. Shaking her head, she headed outside and found Anek waiting by Caelum, looking mildly alarmed at the screams now coming from Albanus’s office.
“Should I ask?”
“I wasted a good hour talking to him when I should’ve just done that earlier.” Sarai sheathed her dagger. “What brings you here?”
“She’s leaving,” Anek said quietly. “I thought you’d want to know.”
Sarai halted. “I see.”
“I thought all four of us might go see her off.” They mounted their horse.
Climbing into the saddle, Sarai followed and was halfway down the street when she frowned.
“Hold on, did you say all four of us?”
Gold arced across a rosy sky. Summer had come to Edessa last month, and was just as beautiful as Sarai had imagined. Carpets of sun cups and desert marigolds spread across the Academiae, peering through cracks in the cobblestone. Telmar, slowly coming off ibez , had taken to painting them, while Gaius studiously refused to go outside as the pollen left his eyes streaming. As a result, she got to gallivant off and perform all manner of tasks: handling some of the rainwater drainage efforts post-stormfall and, on occasion, journeying to other cities to handle cases there. Some wondered at her presence, but she enjoyed seeing the country at its different levels, learning more of its intricacies and people.
She and Anek dismounted at the city gates, at the mouth of the entrance to Kadra’s Quarter. The two figures standing there turned at their approach.
Cisuré hesitantly raised a hand in greeting, buckling an overstuffed saddlebag onto her horse. Beside her, Harion tilted his nose down at them.
“Well, I wish you the best,” he said shortly, stalking past them in a cloud of navy robes.
“Off so soon, Harion?” Sarai inquired politely and saw him scowl.
“That’s Tetrarch Harion , to you, barmaid,” he snapped.
“You still owe me a hundred aurei, Tetrarch Harion,” she said sweetly, and laughed when he muttered something about giving her the coin later.
Anek shook their head as he rode off. “He’ll never do it. Up to his eyes in debt with all the nobles and Guildmasters he paid off to get elected.”
“It’s fun to hang it over his head, though,” Sarai mused. “See him get that panicked light in his eyes.”
Anek snorted, clapping Cisuré’s shoulders. “I hope your new post treats you well. In Kirtule, is it?”
Cisuré nodded. “At a military outpost. I hear it’s strict, but … it might do me some good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Cisuré turned to Sarai next and paused, eyes dropping to the ground. In the days after what the public had deemed the Great Unraveling, they had scarcely seen each other as elections were called, nominees were announced, and Harion had bought himself a position. And when they had met, nothing had been the same .
It never would be. But she owed it to herself to see this ending through.
Sarai turned to the girl who had once been her sister, who had seen her every trial and sorrow for so many years. “Goodbye,” she said quietly. It was a poor word to express everything.
Cisuré’s throat worked. She stepped away. “Perhaps you’ll come visit. All of you.”
Sarai couldn’t answer. With a glance at her, Anek took over. “ Tetrarch Harion as well?” they scoffed. “No, he’s too busy for us. But who knows what the future’ll bring?”
Downcast, Cisuré mounted her laden horse. “I’ll see you then.”
She exhaled shakily, eyes pausing on Sarai. And for an instant the girl she’d known in Arsamea, before Aelius, before all of this, seemed to reappear. Sarai’s heart clenched, broke.
Cisuré smiled through her tears. “Goodbye.”
Without further words, she steered her mount around and set off on the winding road out of Edessa, past small towns and a curving river, to a place that might be the start of her journey.
Sarai wiped at the tear that ran down her cheek as Cisuré’s figure shrank to a dot in the distance. Robes shifted behind her as the vigiles guarding the gate stiffened, and she knew who approached even before his roughened hand wrapped around hers.
“What’s this I hear about six thousand aurei?” Kadra inquired gravely to Anek’s loud guffaw.
“That’s my cue to leave.” They inclined their head at Kadra. “She’s as bad as you these days.”
He looked amused. “So I hear.”
Shaking their head, Anek departed as the sun sank low on the horizon, Cisuré long having passed out of their sight. Something sat on the tip of her tongue, the blurred outline of a figure at the Stones Guild, and the warped shadow several paces from her. A breath and the thought winked out .
“Election results for the final Tetrarch should be out soon.” Kadra’s thumb stroked her wrist. “The Guildmasters’ pick is leading.”
Sarai sighed. “It’ll never end, will it?”
“No,” he said softly. “There will always be someone to fight against, great or small.”
She tilted her face up to his, resolute. “Then we’ll keep at it. You and I.”
The last rays of the sun illuminated his tired features, black eyes full of so much love that she couldn’t help but twine her arms around his waist.
“You and I,” he agreed with a wicked grin.
With quiet joy, Sarai kissed Ur Dinyé’s most vicious Tetrarch under a sky like blood and knew she had finally found her place in the land they would shape.
And the Sidran Tower Girl smiled.
THE END