Chapter 17 Quil #3
But what to do instead? Even considering surrender made Quil want to punch himself in the face.
A conversation from earlier popped into his head. The old man and the unlikely friends on either side of him. Alone, swiftness. Together, survival.
They couldn’t fight the Kegari alone. They needed allies. Preferably allies who weren’t besieged themselves.
“Cousin.” Arelia had slipped into the tent without Quil noticing, and she sidled up to him now. “You seem unhappy. You best tell her whatever your plan is. And don’t let her tell you no. Suf and I are with you.”
Warmth spread through Quil’s chest at their faith in him. He responded in an undertone. “How do you know I have a plan?”
“Please.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “You always have a plan. Your plans have plans.”
Quil caught his aunt’s eye as she began assigning teams to each strike force leader.
“A break,” she suggested to the others. “Get something to eat and reconvene in a half hour.”
When everyone had cleared out, Aunt Hel leaned on the table, examining the maps before her.
“Nephew. You don’t like my strategy,” she said.
“Your strategy is the equivalent of treating a headache when the patient has an axe in their skull,” Quil said. “We must save our people. Our cities. We must cut the Kegari out of us. To do that we need allies.”
“The Ankanese have sent parts for our scatter spears. The Mariners—”
“If we have no Ikfa, we cannot win this war. The Kegari can always build more Sails. Get more firepowder. Drop more bombs. We can only hold them off so long. We must neutralize their magic. To do that, we need strong magic of our own. We need the jinn or the Jaduna.”
“The jinn don’t meddle in the affairs of men,” Aunt Hel said. “As they’ve reminded our emissaries time and again.”
Quil thought of what U’qaya had said to him in the Kegari encampment.
Jinn-touched. He remembered the flame eyes that flashed out in the darkness of the Serran Mountains.
He reached back further, to a memory he’d seen in Aiz’s mind.
She’d been sitting with Ruh in the desert, frightened when she thought someone was watching him.
But Ruh hadn’t been worried. It’s only the jinn, he’d said to Aiz. They watch me, sometimes.
And then there were Quil’s dreams of the cave, with Ruh whispering as eyes of flame burned in the darkness. Perhaps they were just dreams. Or perhaps they were something more.
“It’s worth a try,” Quil said. “I have a hunch that the jinn are not as uninterested as they act.”
“You’ll ask the jinn for help,” Aunt Hel said. “And when they say no, you’ll go beg from the Jaduna? Even though they nearly broke a treaty with us?”
“They do not wear their coins lightly, Aunt Hel.” Quil held up his oath coin. “They will speak to me.”
“Quil, if there is another reason you would go on this hunt for allies, you should share it.” At his confusion, his aunt sighed.
“Maybe,” she said carefully, “what you seek is not only the liberation of your people, but to also be reunited with the person you love the most. Can you truly tell me you are not hoping to find Sirsha among the Jaduna?”
Quil took a step back, as stunned as if Aunt Hel had shoved him. Sirsha had been cast out by the Jaduna. She couldn’t get near them without them threatening to kill her. It hadn’t occurred to him that she could be in Jaduna lands.
“That’s not—”
“There’s no shame in fighting for those you love,” Aunt Hel said quickly, as if she’d been waiting to get this out.
“I—I admire that you are so dedicated. I wonder sometimes about our motto. Loyal to the end. Loyalty matters, true. But what of freedom? Always I choose loyalty, but sometimes I wish—”
Pain flashed across her face. Quil’s heart broke at the regret he saw there. He knew she was thinking of Avitas Harper, who had died for her in a battle long ago. “I would not blame you if you sought her, Quil,” she said. “But you must think of the Empire’s survival.”
“There will be no Empire if we don’t get aid, Aunt Hel,” Quil said. “This has nothing to do with Sirsha, because she would never willingly go to the Jaduna. We need help and my heart tells me—”
“Your heart?”
Quil fell silent at the censure in her tone.
He knew what she was implying. His heart wasn’t trustworthy.
His heart had fallen for Aiz, a two-faced monster, and as a result they were at war.
His heart had told him to stay in Serra to buy time for the Ikfa.
Then Spiro was killed. Elias had nearly died.
For a moment, he quailed. What was Quil thinking, going against his aunt? She’d won hundreds of battles, outfoxed countless enemies.
But then he remembered Ruh in the dream. I wish you trusted yourself.
“You never made an error in judgment at my age, Aunt Hel?” Quil said.
“You never fell for the wrong person? Trusted someone you shouldn’t have?
You chose loyalty over freedom once before, yes?
It got you the Empire, but what did you give up?
And what did it matter, in the end? We don’t even have the Empire anymore. ”
Her silence was filled with ghosts, and Quil hated himself for waking them up. For reminding her of all that she could never change.
“It would be easier for me to say, Let’s fight,” Quil said. “But my heart tells me that my path lies elsewhere. Let me follow it.”
Aunt Hel looked up. Her pale gaze startled him, as it often did when she caught his eye unexpectedly. Her expression was familiar. Puzzled, as if she saw something in his features she could not reconcile.
“I forget sometimes,” she murmured. “How much you look like him.”
Quil stiffened. “Like my father.”
Aunt Hel appeared surprised. Her smile was sad.
“No,” she said, “like mine. Very well, nephew. Speak to the jinn and the Jaduna. We can spare a squad of two dozen soldiers—”
“I’d rather travel light,” Quil said. “I waited to tell you until after the meeting so we could keep this quiet. A smaller group will move quickly. Just me, Sufiyan, Arelia, and Tas.”
Aunt Hel stared into the middle distance. She looked gaunt with exhaustion. He wanted to ask her what she was going to tell him as they were entering the camp. Lately, Quil, I—
“Aunt.” He touched her wrist gently. “Perhaps some sleep?”
She shuddered. “When I sleep,” she said, “I dream. And my dreams of late are troubling, nephew.”
His magic unfurled and for a moment, he saw that dreadful memory of fire.
His chest clenched as flames roared. This time, he did not hear her scream.
Instead, he heard Ruh’s voice. This is the end of what you created.
Of what you stood for. So choose. You or him, Empress.
He felt his aunt’s fear, sharp as the edge of his blade.
And then the memory faded, and his aunt was only a tired woman with the weight of an empire upon her. A weight that Quil could not let her shoulder alone.
“I’ll find a way, Aunt,” he said. “I swear it.”
“I know you will, Quil,” she said. “Truly, I do.”
But as she spoke, she would not meet his eyes. As if she wasn’t quite sure if she believed her own words.