Chapter 18 #3
“Yes,” Teren says simply. “I came here for sanctuary when I was a child, had to grow up without my own parents. I have lived among you for years, and the Quiet has been down for days, and nothing has changed for you. I am not dangerous to you, but the Order is dangerous to me.”
That, at least, I could do, I think with some bitterness. I can transmit old knowledge, even if my own wisdom can’t save anyone.
“You knew this?” Romasa directs her accusation at Nomi. “Your stake in this meeting isn’t the business from the proposed ice line—it’s your connection to Teren?”
Nomi nods. “Yes. And it goes further than that. The people who live in my house have been sheltering sages for centuries. The Order won’t let me go if they take Teren, and they won’t imprison me, either, not with what I know. They will kill me.”
Romasa sucks in a breath. “That is a stretch, Nomi, and I’m surprised at it from you. I know you’re close to this issue, and I respect you from stepping down so we might discuss it, but killing? They might not even know—”
“They know,” Nomi says flatly. “They have seen me with Teren and tried to take him. We’re not just talking about abstract possibilities of what might happen here. If the priests gain free access to Crystal Hollow, I’m dead, and Teren worse than. Those are the facts.”
The room digests that for a moment.
“Well, damn it,” Gisa finally says with a sigh. “I guess we have to be revolutionaries after all.”
Romasa turns to her, visibly shocked. “Now, wait a—”
“Are you going to just hand the boy over then?” Gisa interrupts her sharply. “Are you comfortable with that, Romasa?”
“That’s unfair—”
“Shall we talk about practicalities instead?” Gisa interrupts.
“Are you going to be happy having to take the time to make your own blankets again? How about handing over Nomi, who’s been fixing our weird-ass houses for decades and doesn’t have an apprentice?
How inconvenient will it be when something in your house breaks, and there’s no one left to fix it?
“And then who do you think will be next, Romasa? Anyone who’s traded with either Teren or Nomi, perhaps, who might have known something, taken in for questioning? You think being innocent will protect your life here?” Gisa snorts.
Then she fixes the room with a hard look.
“They don’t get to have any of us, or else we’re all at their mercy,” the old woman tells them.
“The stranger is right. We’ve done without the priests this long, and we’ll have to keep doing.
And I assume now,” she says, fixing a glare at Nomi, “that Yora’s presence isn’t an accident.
How do these two with all their convenient knowledge fit in? ”
Well that turned quickly.
But Teren speaks up again. “Zan introduced us. He’s part of the network that helped me escape here as a child. Anyone he says is trustworthy is.”
I glance at Zan, trying to keep my expression calm even as I fear how he’ll react to being partially outed—even if this may have been the only alternative to not outing him as a dragon.
“Then why did you, Zan, bring Yora here?” Gisa asks.
Zan doesn’t miss a beat. “More priests had been able to pass through the Quiet. I thought she might be able to figure out why.”
Smooth. Not even a lie, exactly.
More priests had passed through—making a concerted effort to kill him.
And I do know why.
I made my choices.
“Whatever caused the Quiet was centered on an ancient temple on the mountain,” I say, keeping my voice even. “It was once called Celestial Sanctuary, and the Sage of Wrath was entombed there. There is no body left in the cell she seems to have been kept in.”
“And how do you know that?” Romasa demands.
“Well I can’t think of many other reasons for a walled in room with a pallet,” I tell her blandly. “There was only one set of bones inside. The rest have been burned to set them to rights.”
There was a set of bones there, anyway.
I just happened to walk out when a dragon made me a door.
Everyone’s expressions are giving big yikes vibes, though, so my words landed as intended.
“Even if you’re right,” Romasa says, “the priests of today aren’t like that. I know we all have our reasons for being here, but their danger to us here in Crystal Hollow isn’t physical. They’re trying to unify people. They’re led by the Sage of Compassion, for the gods’ sakes—”
Teren interrupts flatly, “The Sage of Compassion was the first person to recognize me and insist on trying to enslave me.”
“She’s not a slave!”
Oh boy, this one I can answer. “Whatever face the Sage of Compassion puts on is at the Order’s behest, not the other way around. She does whatever her masters tell her to without question—and she doesn’t question.”
“She has to,” Teren explains, “because the way the priests in our modern era enslave sages is by... it’s like a magical addiction, basically.
Sages they catch can’t go against them without killing themselves with the effects of the withdrawal.
But I grew up outside the Order and learned to control my power without them.
So I can tell you with assurance that the priests do this so that no one can gainsay them, not because it’s safer for anyone. ”
“How do you know that, though?” Romasa asks. “And just because you are safe, which we have only your word for—it’s been what, a few days since the Quiet went down, judging by when we started seeing priests?”
Into that rumble, I’m surprised by who cuts through it.
“I trust Teren,” Sunani says.
We all look over at her.
Her color is high, her chin raised defiantly, her fists clenched as she refuses to look away from all the unwanted attention on her.
Teren gapes.
Then Waten snorts. “Well, that’s sweet and all—”
Nomi then says, “I live with him. Or do you not trust me?”
“You’re biased,” Waten snaps. “And maybe we shouldn’t trust you, with all you’ve been hiding from us—”
“And maybe,” I finally snap, “you will find any excuse to not look out for your neighbors lest you be mildly inconvenienced.”
I look at Romasa when I say that.
“It’s more than mild discomfort,” she snaps right back.
“Why do you deserve to keep your comfortable life unchanged when your neighbors can’t, through no wrongdoings of their own?
And can you really be comfortable while your neighbors are stolen and killed next to you?
You can rationalize it however you want.
You’re either comfortable killing your neighbors, or you’re not,” I tell her.
“You don’t know that would happen!”
This time, the room doesn’t agree with her, and I watch Romasa see it.
There. That’s it, isn’t it?
If I want to change things, I have to actually use my power.
Teren is doing it—he knows exactly how to hit them for comfort, or discomfort.
And maybe wrath can change minds, too.
Except committed curmudgeons’, because Waten apparently realizes that Romasa, who people actually like, isn’t getting her way and his own life might be affected, and points at me. “You can’t just decide this for everyone and force it on us.”
I mean, technically I could, but—
Exasperated with him, Nomi says, “We’re literally making this decision as a group.”
“While ignoring those of us who dissent!”
“The majority of the room disagrees with you,” Nomi tells him.
“That’s how this works. You don’t get a unilateral veto.
Or have you forgotten when Teren and I both voted with you to enable you to expand your fledgling bakery here when not everyone agreed because you were new?
We welcomed you. So you will forgive me for not being willing to offer myself to be executed for your convenience.
If you don’t like this, move. Or is there a reason you moved here to keep the priests out of your business? ”
Waten scowls but subsides.
Even he can sense the room’s mood has shifted in agreement with Nomi, apparently.
“Well,” Gisa says with some amusement. “That’s that then. This is why we all come to these things, isn’t it? For the excitement.”
Chuckles throughout the room.
“What do we need to do to make this happen, Nomi?” she asks.
Nomi looks over at Zan. “I’m thinking Jiran.”
Zan nods. “I agree.”
“Our tax collector in Chitsui?” someone asks dubiously.
“His work means that he deals with all kinds of people and can recommend workers to bring into Crystal Hollow who can be trusted,” Zan explains.
Then Nomi adds, “He’s a good man, and since he’s a former priest, you know he doesn’t have fond feelings for the Order. You don’t leave and allow them to seal your magic without a pretty profound disagreement, so I think we should feel him out first to see if he’ll want to help.”
“They what?” I blurt, aghast.
“It’s what they do to people with magical talent who don’t want to be part of their organization,” Teren says to me quietly. “It’s part of how they ensure no one opposes them.”
“Or how they ensure we’re all safe,” Romasa interjects sharply. “Learn your history, Teren. Magic in the hands of the masses caused more destruction than the Order ever did.”
“Your history lessons are incomplete, then,” I shoot back.
“Because before the Order monopolized learning, people all over Kameya handled spells just fine. Untrained people can cause destruction in any number of fields besides magic. You certainly wouldn’t want me to build a house for you if you cared about it not falling on your head.
Or to cook something that you didn’t want to poison you. ”
“Too real,” Zan murmurs next to me, causing people to snicker as I mock-glare at him.
We make such a good team it makes me ache.
And want to fight, because I am who I am.
I look at Nomi. “Tell this Jiran that I can unseal him.”
“You?” Gisa asks pointedly.
“I told you I know a thing or two about magic,” I say calmly. “It’s how I knew the Quiet had fallen, and that Teren is a sage. The priests would very much prefer to keep knowledge to themselves, and this is why I sought sanctuary here. If this former priest wants his magic back, he can have it.”
“Good idea,” Waten notes, which immediately makes me suspicious. “Then he’ll have to help us.”
Aaand there it is.
“No, I’ll unseal him because it’s the right thing to do,” I reply, not bothering to keep the irritation out of my voice. “I am not extorting people to help us.”
“You’re extorting me,” he snaps. “You are the ones forcing me to make decisions that you approve of.”
Haben has apparently had enough too, because he says, “If you have to be forced to care about people other than yourself, you are the problem, Waten. We’re deciding who we want to be.
The price of community is participation.
If you don’t like it, go somewhere else.
If you don’t want to look out for your neighbors, then I don’t see why your neighbors should want you. ”
“I’m not a bad person,” Waten snaps. “It should just be my choice—”
Enough. “Then you are not, in fact, a good person,” I tell him coldly, my wrath guiding me. “If you were, this would be a nonissue.”
My words ring with an echo of power that chills the room.
Sorry not sorry.
“We have our next steps, I think,” Gisa says.
“Does anyone else have objections? No? All in favor of Nomi reaching out to Jiran? Excellent, that’s a majority.
Then I think we all have a lot to think about.
Let’s reconvene tomorrow once we’ve had some time to process today’s revelations.
” A pause. “And let’s clear these chairs.
I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be a standing-room-only situation. ”
Oh, the old woman is wise—giving people an action to perform smoothly transitions everyone from arguing to working together.
As everyone stands, though, I turn to Teren and ask, “Why?”
He meets my gaze. “Someone wise once told me that you can’t be wise about the world without living in it.”
I glare at him. Trying to hoist me with my own petard, is he?
Teren smiles faintly. “It’s time for me to live instead of hide. I’m not sorry that you made me realize that, Yora.”
Wow, triply my fault he had to reveal himself?
“Move some chairs, Yora,” Teren says. “Work with the community, and let them see it. I told you that people here are better than you’re giving them credit for. Now we’re going to test that.”
“With your life,” I hiss.
He raises his eyebrows. “Is your life worth less, then, do you think, that you should risk yourself and no one else can? Just because the Order raised you to handle assaults yourself doesn’t mean you have to, Yora. Friends share the load.”
Argh.
I can’t decide if I want to punch him or me.
I want to move beyond what the Order trained for me, but it makes me feel supremely useless to not even be able to do that. And maybe being useless wouldn’t be so bad if my friends weren’t having to pick up the slack for me—
“Move, Yora,” Zan says quietly. “We need to get back to the mountain.”
Oh?
Oh.
Before anyone can violate the last bit of sanctuary he has.
Even if people would have realized the Quiet had fallen eventually, the fact that I told them still makes it feel like my fault Zan won’t have a safe space to land anymore.
If I want him to be able to choose to stay, I need to figure out how to fix that, fast.