Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
The top floor is composed of a single suite.
Our target is a balcony there, its edges scalloped and trimmed with silver paint.
We slither onto it like a pair of cautious lizards and creep over to the glass-paned doors.
Warm light spills from the interior, a room that easily rivals anything Belspire would have had to offer.
Caius is within, ensconced at a table scattered with the remains of a fine meal, calmly sipping a glass of wine.
Heat pricks my cheeks at the sight of him; screams echo in memory.
If anyone deserves to take an assisted dive off this balcony, it’s him.
Wouldn’t kill him either, but at least it would hurt.
Surprise, surprise, he’s not alone. Ramiro sits across from him with his own glass and a smarmy smile that makes it clear he thinks the Golden Glory was his ship coming in.
There’s also several Thorn Guard standing sentinel.
Nolan and I lock eyes. Our plan, admittedly, is not much of a plan.
And it’s not going to get any better the longer we wait.
So, I stand up in front of the glass door and knock.
The Thorn Guard have their swords out before I finish.
Ramiro, dulled by wine, moves a bit slower, though not by much.
Caius barely reacts. He peers at me in the window, then takes another sip before putting his glass down—entirely unbothered, as if he fully expected Nolan and me to show up on his balcony.
“Everyone, relax.” He comes over and opens the door. “Good evening, Lys. Nolan. You know, you could have simply taken the stairs.”
“That’s what I said.” I shove past him. The Thorn Guard follow Caius’s order, but Ramiro’s sword remains out, his brow knit with confusion.
“So glad to see you.” Caius drips with false warmth. “Saves me the bother of tracking you down.”
“Well,” Nolan drawls, “we didn’t want to put you through any trouble.”
“Trouble?” Ramiro finally catches on. He may not have seen our faces clearly, but he’s not a total fool. “Wait—I know these two! They’re the smugglers I told you about.”
“I suspected as much,” Caius says. “Though your choice of wares is… interesting.” He turns calmly to Ramiro. “I assure you, as troublesome as this pair might be, they are here on the Goddess’s authority. Whatever they’ve done, it’s with a good reason.”
Oh, now we get the benefit of the doubt. “Yeah and that good reason was that ass and his ass-kissers attacked us.”
Ramiro goes tomato red. “I’m going to cut that tongue right out of your smart mouth.”
“You will do nothing of the sort.” Caius’s words harden with Arbiter authority. “Not unless I say so.” He pauses. “I understand the sentiment, though.”
“Don’t we all,” Nolan mutters.
I shoot him a sour look.
“They killed my men!” The Caerula leader isn’t giving up. “And they were peddling vile, forbidden contraband, made from your kin.”
I roll my eyes. “Goddess, you are slow. Our kin too.” I sidle over to him and use one finger to push aside his sword, cocking my head questioningly as his eyes widen with surprise.
“And as I recall, we left a vial of that contraband behind. Did you happen to mention where that ended up? Or who tipped you off to what we were up to in the first place?”
“Hmm,” says Caius. “He did not.”
A frown drags Ramiro’s mouth down so much that he looks like a very put-out frog. “At times, we are forced to deal with… low—but inconsequential—sorts in order to maintain order in Cyprene.”
“Maintain your pocket money,” I slip in.
Ramiro keeps going. “And I didn’t want to concern you with the vile substance. We destroyed it, of course.”
I snort. “Sure you did.”
“I—”
“Enough.” Caius cuts off his new ally, returning to his seat at the table. “We can discuss any impious liberties that might have been taken after I sort out some more pressing issues with my brethren here.”
“Caius…” Nolan says, the one word carrying enough meaning that the Arbiter nods.
“Yes, okay. Everyone out.” When Ramiro hesitates, Caius glares at him. “Out, Ramiro. I appreciate your cooperation so far, and your devotion to our Goddess in such a blasphemous place, but this particular discussion is not for your ears.”
For a moment, it seems like Ramiro is seriously reconsidering his “cooperation.” But he sheathes his sword and exits the suite, the Thorn Guard following. They won’t go far, of course, but when the door closes, it’s just Caius, Nolan, and me.
“Nice little family reunion,” I say.
Caius smiles dryly, picking up his glass again.
“What are you doing here?” Bless Nolan, he gets right to the point. “That letter wasn’t an invitation.”
“No. But it was very interesting. Especially in the wake of your visit.”
Nolan’s mouth thins. “Why did you follow us?”
Caius scoffs, as if the answer is obvious. “I’m hunting heretics, same as you. I admit, curiosity got the best of me, especially after I discovered the destination of your ship. And Ramiro’s report about recent happenings here was… intriguing. What are you two up to?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” says Nolan. “The Goddess didn’t send you. No one in Lumeris did.”
Caius’s eyes narrow at the thinly veiled accusation of disobedience. “I serve them, even when they don’t know it.”
“Oh,” I interject. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re butting in where you know you’re not wanted.”
Caius scowls. “Why the Goddess thought you were worthy for their favor, I will never understand.”
I shrug dramatically. “They work in mysterious ways.”
“Stop,” commands Nolan. “Fighting doesn’t serve any of us. Caius, you don’t understand what you’ve done by coming here. An Arbiter? In Cyprene? You’re drawing attention that we don’t need.”
“I’m not concerned with what attention I draw from this blasphemous rabble. They could all use a reminder that this vile city continues to exist only by the grace of Tempestra-Innara.”
“Then be concerned with what they’ll think,” Nolan snaps. “We are close to locating the heretics that attacked. Or we were, until you arrived. How do you think our blood mother will react if they learned about that?”
Caius glares. “Better, I imagine, then finding out that two of their Chosen are peddling the wares of Renderers.”
A laugh escapes me. “How do you think we got their attention in the first place?”
That perks him up. “So you’ve actually found them?”
“We’ve made contact,” I concede. Caius still thinks we’re only after the heretics. He doesn’t know anything about the reliquary. And if we can get him to back off, he won’t find out.
The Arbiter turns sly. “Then let me help. We are all children of the Goddess. We should be working together, instead of apart.”
And sharing equal parts in the glory, no doubt.
I can’t help but wonder if Caius might have the same ambitions toward becoming avatar as Nolan does.
But no. He’d have no desire to give himself over, not like that.
I roll my eyes at Nolan. “Pfft. He wants to leave behind Belspire for Osturan. No, wait… Lumeris, right? Right to the top. All of this is him angling for a promotion.” My attention shifts back to Caius.
“Hey, even better—maybe the Goddess will appreciate your initiative and reassign you to Cyprene.”
The scowl returns. “You’re not funny. Ever. And I don’t know why you’d even joke about that. The Goddess… to be so far from their light. It was trial enough when I departed the Cloister, but this?” He trails off.
“Eh.” I shrug. “Some of us manage it better than others.”
Nolan clears his throat pointedly. “Enough. We don’t have time to argue. We’ve come here on a specific mission and you’ve endangered our success. You need to depart the island. Carry word back to Lumeris, tell them we are getting close—but leave.”
Caius leans back in his chair, a clear signal he isn’t going anywhere. “I’m sure my Thorn Guard and I can find some way to assist you.”
So much for appealing to his pious obedience.
Though neither of us really expected him to fold.
“He’s right.” Time to try a different tack.
“Okay. You can help us. Let it leak that you’re here hunting smugglers suspected to be Renderer associates.
If an Arbiter has come all the way from the mainland, it will lend us credence, show the heretics that we are who we say we are.
That we can deliver what we promise. Make a show of it, search a guesthouse or two.
” I pause. “But reopen the port. Make it clear you aren’t here for long.
If they feel threatened—trapped—we’ll never hear from them again.
If they don’t, then we’ll have an actual chance to root them out. ”
The room goes quiet.
“That,” Caius says at last, “is not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m known to have a few good ones now and again.”
But he shakes his head. “I didn’t come here to play games. Or look incompetent, for that matter. I came to deal with the heretics.”
I tense, open my mouth to force the point, but Nolan beats me to it.
“Then do that,” he says.
“What?” Caius considers. “What do you mean?”
I’d like to know that too. Whatever Nolan is getting at, it wasn’t part of our plan.
“I mean…” He wanders over to where Caius sits and lifts a crock of salt sitting among the platters and plates. He takes a pinch, then lets the grains rain back down. “That if there’s one thing this island doesn’t lack for, it’s heretics.”