Chapter 3 #2
Alihana sighed. The last time any of the original portal witches—the ones who founded the current structure of the connected universe—were killed was when the Stations were being constructed and the Council was on the verge of formation.
There were twenty-seven of those original witches left, at the time.
Someone cut a bloody swath through them all.
No hesitation, no mercy, no fear. Do you know who that person was?
She didn’t have to guess, because her father had told her. Not the specifics, but that anyone who had been complicit in Arradin’s captivity had not lived long enough to regret it.
Indeed, Alihana confirmed. Unlike you, your father is a man who loves without mercy.
She bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”
That you possess an internal sense of fairness he does not.
Kiev killed Seth, so you killed Kiev. If he had only bound Seth as Arradin was bound, you would not have leapt to murder.
You would not have personally hunted down every single person who knew of that binding and sent their ashes to the twelve remaining portal witches who did not know of it, so that they would understand what fate awaited them should they ever cross you.
She hadn’t known about the ashes part, but that Jevryn had done such a thing did not surprise her. One didn’t have to know him long to understand that his sense of justice was an unyielding one. But it begged the question: “If they’re so terrified of him, why would they dare come after him now?”
Time dulls all memories. Even the ones that once invoked terror.
And your father has chosen largely to be a recluse since that time.
He has not been enough involved with the others to remind them they ought to be afraid.
Especially since he willingly allowed himself to be taken into the Psionics’ custody after the Harvester was stolen.
“He did what?”
You did not know? When Kaden was taken to Psionics, Jevryn had already been there for quite some time.
“Why would he allow that?”
Because keeping the secret of the Harvester’s location was more important to him than temporary pain, and he did not wish to raise suspicions.
Besides, Psionics torture a person with their worst mistakes, or attempt to glean information from them by offering them an imagining of what they want most. Jevryn A-Morridahn is quite adept at torturing himself with his worst memories.
And he is far too critical of himself to be convinced overlong that he has achieved some happy end that is not real.
While his time with the Mindwitches allayed the other councilors’ suspicions of his involvement with the Harvester’s disappearance, it had the unfortunate consequence of making him appear less to the other councilors.
Less the monster of their memories, less untouchable, less invulnerable. They have forgotten to fear him.
Something in Nyx’s heart—something that had begun hardening with Seth’s death—hardened further.
It was the part of her that could not bear to lose anyone else.
The part of her she knew that, if she allowed it to grow unfettered, would over time make her more and more like her father.
She did not want to become Jevryn A-Morridahn any more than she wanted to become her mother.
But she couldn’t stop herself from replying to Alihana’s assertion that the councilors no longer remembered to fear her father with: “Then maybe he should remind them to.”
Because as flawed as he was, he was hers.
As poorly as he showed it, he loved her.
She was not naive enough to think it absolved him of his many sins.
It did not even mean she had forgiven him for her childhood, or for the fact that she didn’t think he would ever have told her who he was to her if Elena Fortuna hadn’t done so first. But Nyx didn’t need to forgive him to love him.
She didn’t need to forgive him to feel whole.
The opposite was true. Forgiveness felt too much like negating everything she had been through, like saying it no longer mattered.
She had managed to love him because she didn’t forgive him.
She could understand why he’d made the choices he had. She didn’t walk around every day carrying a weight of resentment toward him for them. But she didn’t forgive him, either.
Perhaps he should, Alihana allowed. But any such reminder comes with risk.
Prove himself too strong, and it will seem impossible that anyone other than he could have killed Kiev.
Or if, as you have suggested, any one of them could have on their own killed Kiev—which I ought point out is possible— then you must also accept that any one of them could, under the right circumstances, kill Jevryn.
It makes his current predicament precarious indeed.
With Kiev no longer alive as a balance to Jevryn, and no longer alive to take offense at his death—as, despised or not, Jevryn was family to Kiev—the others may feel it prudent to provide a united front against him.
And that is a force even a Salyrian as adept as your father would find it difficult to counter on his own.
Nyx didn’t like the implications. If Jevryn was in trouble because of what she had done, should she help him instead of going after Tristen?
Alihana must have skimmed those thoughts from her mind because they asked, What do you think you could do that he cannot?
Your control over death is juvenile at best, your understanding of the Council infantile.
You would not even know where to look for him, much less what to do should you succeed in finding him.
Maybe not. But Alihana would. “Then why are you telling me any of this?” If they didn’t want her to stay and help Jevryn, why put into her mind that he might have been kept from joining her by the combined might of the Council?
A ripple went through her mind like a shrug.
Because you have made a promise to me and mine, and if you are dead you cannot keep it.
Your reaction to Seth’s death nearly caused your own.
You survived Kiev A-Morridahn by a combination of inherited genetic abilities, stubbornness, and the fact that you have, against all odds, assembled a group of companions who possess unique talents and who are foolishly willing to throw their lot in with yours.
That allowed you to take down one Councilor. Should an ill fate befall your father, do not be so arrogant as to think it will be enough to take on the combined might of the Council. If you are wise, you will prepare yourself now for the possibility of that loss.
Nyx thought about it. She really did. She attempted to be reasonable. To consider that everything Alihana told her, they really did tell her out of an attempt to keep her alive, even if only for selfish reasons. But no amount of contemplation changed her response.
“Fuck you.”
Such eloquence.
“You know, that’s almost word for word what Lethe said to me on multiple occasions. It’s almost like you’re the same being.”
They bristled in response, as she’d known they would. When you leave to find Tristen Veld, do not leave me behind.
That, at least, wasn’t a concern. Whatever Alihana thought of her, whatever they said to her, she wasn’t looking a gift soulsword in the mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said sweetly.