Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Idris makes all the arrangements for the executions.
Rather than ordering the hasty construction of the gallows at the High Chamber, he arranges for them in the Market Square, outside the Watchtower.
It’s a clever move. That very space will evoke the memory of the victory of a united people.
The High Chamber is a beacon of hope, a place of peace, the future, our democracy.
But having these executions take place at an infamous site of a traitor’s downfall will reinforce a clear message.
I can also understand, after the events of the last execution, why Idris prefers a different location.
I spend the rest of the morning calming the frayed nerves of the other Electi and monitoring the discussion between Tahira and Savino over my new protection arrangements (Tahira insists she handpick the entire team herself).
An hour before I need to leave to meet Idris at the Watchtower, Giulia turns up with a change of clothes for me and the girls in tow.
Emilia immediately folds me into an iron hug, Michelle peppers me with a million questions while handing me a never-ending stream of food and Serra firmly insists I never go anywhere again without one of them for back-up.
Giulia looks haunted. Her perfect pearly complexion is pale.
Her hair is roughly pulled away from her face, eyes puffy like she didn’t sleep.
Terror lurks in my sister’s gaze as it lingers on my throat, blue eyes glistening as she forces a false smile to her lips.
I tell her repeatedly that I’m fine, that I’ll heal in time.
But while the physical wounds are mine alone to bear, the mental and emotional wounds are widespread and far-reaching.
My sister is hurting. Badly. And even with all the powers of a Maestrus, there is nothing I can do to fix it.
Within the space of twenty minutes, the girls threw themselves into work.
Emilia goes over refugee housing plans with Maggia and Otta.
Michelle talks about messaging and new Halician murals around the city with Leone, to promote unity and patriotism.
Serra discusses troop and supply movement with Savino – proposing a new type of tracked wheels that might move heavier objects far more quickly over rough terrain.
Giulia takes the city accounts in hand and reviews every ingoing and outgoing expense like a pro.
I can breathe because I am not immediately needed in multiple conversations at once for the first time in what seems like forever.
I take my time changing into the dress Giulia chose for me.
The gentle, overlapping lavender gossamer and white silk makes my skin glow.
I wrap the gold beaded belt around my waist, long looping and dangling charms of amethyst covering the skirt in delicate flowers.
Considering the unruly state of my hair, I decide on the security of the Dutch braid to the nape of my neck, before styling my usual ponytail.
I use the decorative pins Giulia brought with her to hold everything together.
Now fully presentable, I leave the bathroom. I stop short, seeing Tahira waiting for me. Leaning against the gilded column, her brown skin is flooded with the bleeding yellow and blue colours from the stained window to her left. Her dark eyes sparkle as I meet her gaze.
Guilt crawls around my throat.
“You’re never letting me out of your sight ever again, are you?” I ask her quietly.
Tahira shrugs, shoulders bouncing her onyx curls.
“I was terrified we wouldn’t get to you in time,” she admits, shaking her head. “It would destroy Idris, losing you like that. Not to mention your sister—”
“But you were there.” I cut her off, not wanting to linger on dark questions that hold nothing but grief. “And I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“No thanks necessary, my friend.” Tahira winks and cracks a wicked smile. “I’ll just send you a bill.”
I bark with laughter and nod. “That’s more than fair.”
“So is now a good time to tell you that we found the explosives?” Tahira asks, standing up straight as I walk to her side.
“Where?”
“The sewers. There were lots. I think they were planning to plant them in several key points around the city all at once.”
The sewers. I, of all people, should’ve realised that.
“They’re being searched as we speak. The explosives have been confiscated and are in our care,” Tahira promises.
“I’ll get Leone and Savino to look into what we can do about securing those,” I mutter. “Maybe installing gates so movement isn’t so free and easy?”
“Patrol in the sewers might be required,” Tahira says, wrinkling her nose.
“Great,” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose as I let out a deep breath. Another thing for the City Guard to hate me for.
“Come on, the carriage has pulled up out front. Let’s get you to the Watchtower.”
“You’re coming?” I ask, surprised.
“Sure am. I want to see justice served,” Tahira answers hotly. “No one attacks my team and gets away with it.”
“Your team, huh?” I grin as I link my arm through hers.
Tahira escorts me out of the High Chamber building, managing to ward off the few questions that come my way. She sees me hurriedly into the carriage, settling down next to me as the door swings shut.
The carriage rocks back and forth as we set off through the streets of Halice. Tahira keeps the screens down to shield us from outside view, the patterned wood having intricate gaps that allow sunlight into the space. I don’t argue – if Tahira thinks it’ll keep me safer, then that’s what I’ll do.
“So, are you excited for the party?” asks Tahira.
“The what?” I ask, confused. Tahira cracks a wicked grin.
“You haven’t heard? Royah is planning a huge party for Giulia and Michelle. Huge might be an understatement – she has grand plans.”
“I’m so glad that all worked out. Who would’ve thought it when you first arrived?” I groan and Tahira barks with laughter.
“Not me! Honestly, this whole Fated thing seems like a lot of trouble.”
“Ever met yours?”
“No,” Tahira answers, then tilts her head to the side. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“Trust me, you’d know,” I promise her.
“Well then, I’ll consider myself one of the lucky ones.”
It doesn’t take long for the carriage to reach its destination. But soon, its speed drops to little more than a crawl and we’re surrounded by a din of voices. A crowd. I swallow tightly, fingers curling over the cool cushions of the seat. My mouth goes dry.
The carriage stops and Tahira wastes no time. She opens the door and hops down into the full, glowing power of the noon sun. She turns back to me, one hand braced on the door, the other on the carriage to bar my exit.
“Stay here a moment,” she instructs, her face all business before closing the door and leaving to do a sweep of the area. Outside, the voices are loud. Sitting here in the carriage, my heart is drumming in my ears, my pulse beginning to throb like ice at the back of my throat and under my tongue.
I lean forwards, peering through the slats of the screen. The crowd is full of faces I recognise from around the city in the past. On one side of the building is the gallows. Some traitors have already been hanged.
If the execution is already over, why am I here?
Amongst the conversations of the crowd, I’m able to pick out a word. Di Maineri.
A bolt of ice cracks through my spine as I jolt back from the door.
I blink hard, fighting the itching in my fingers.
I purse my lips, blowing slowly through them.
I focus on my breathing to calm my mind.
In through the nose, slowly. Out through my lips, slowly, like blowing out loads of candles.
I repeat that a few times, pressing a hand to my heart in an attempt to ground myself.
The door is pulled open and Tahira stands there, face dropping when she sees me.
“We can leave, head somewhere else,” she offers quietly. “Idris would understand.”
I shake my head. The idea of seeing Idris feels so much safer than running away. Even though I know there is little even he could do if the crowd turns against us both.
“Is he here?” I ask. She nods, gesturing to the old building behind her.
“Waiting inside for you.”
She holds out her hand, helping me descend the carriage. People are staring at me as I emerge, talking amongst themselves. Probably noting the vicious marks around my neck and my split lip. Confirming amongst themselves the rumours of last night.
Tahira walks with me. A mix of Coari soldiers and City Guards stands strong and proud, holding back the relatively calm crowd.
We move quickly, ducking into the shady cover of the building.
As I step inside, my blood starts searing.
Pins and needles race up and down my limbs, my throat goes thick and my tongue becomes barbed in my mouth.
I let out a deep breath, settled from knowing Idris is close by.
I search through the small crowd for him, instead spying Alfieri standing with arms crossed in a deep, serious conversation with someone I don’t recognise.
His eyes snap to me as I walk in, his shoulders dropping with relief as he hurries over.
He wraps me up in a friendly bear hug.
“Good to see you, Renza,” Alfieri says, unusually solemn as he stands back. “You had us worried.”
“Just keeping you on your toes,” I inform him, offering a small smile. Alfieri snorts.
“You’re certainly not boring, Di Maineri, I’ll give you that,” Alfieri answers. A surge of heat washes over the side of my face, and I turn to meet that familiar scorching gaze.
Idris stands with Royah to one side, the corner of his mouth curling up as he looks at me. His eyes run up and down as he walks to my side. I turn to face him properly, the two of us caught up in our own world for a long moment.
“You look beautiful,” Idris says, voice rich and deep, setting goosebumps flying across my skin.
“Thank Giulia. This is all her,” I inform him, gesturing to the pretty clothes.
“Perhaps the outfit. The rest is you.”