Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
-KADIAN
The cool air from outside the House of Shadows was a welcome respite as Tura and I wandered the labyrinth that was the palace. Azmeer continued to awe and amaze me each time I left my room. Its imposing size, the grandeur of it all, I had never seen anything like it.
Of course, Brida and I had tried to get out and go beyond the confines of Escalia, with our annual trip, but we’d never been to a city before Azmeer. Where are you now, Brida? How will I get back to you?
Tura carried herself with the poise of a statue, never once lowering her shoulders, slouching, or appearing anything other than royal. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought her to be Queen of Azmeer.
The last we had heard was that Dainan’s mother was still in isolation, recovering from the poisoned eclairs at the ball, the planned attack on her and her husband’s lives.
The same thing that murdered the king. But who knows how long she would be safe.
She was no longer a queen, and she was not the new king’s mother.
“How did you and Brida meet?” Tura turned her head over her left shoulder and asked. We passed countless officials, court members, each scurrying to differing parts of the palace.
Azmeer, while a palace, was also a city. There were corridors, wings, whole swaths that would take you months, maybe years, to explore every corner. Some of which you would never be allowed to see as those parts belonged to specific courts.
Tura coughed in an attempt to help me regain my focus, and I silently thanked her. “We met as kids,” I said. “My earliest memories all have Brida in them.”
“Hm.” She turned her gaze ahead of us. The long corridor appeared almost as an optical illusion. As if the wall narrowed at its end, creating a distortion my eyes couldn’t understand.
“Which part of the palace is this?”
“The network of the Center Court.” She said before resuming her questions. “And the two of you never…”
“Brida and I?” I almost scoffed. “The closest Brida and I ever came to being together is when I pretended we were a couple so I could get a discount on a chair.” I smiled at the memory, recalling the look of disgust on Brida’s face when she realized I planned to keep up the pretense as long as it took to complete the sale.
“Are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” I whispered to her.
“Are you saying you want to be with me?” She’d quipped back.
“Obviously not.”
Her eyebrows had raised so high I was positive they would leave her face.
“Shit, well, not obviously not, Bri. I mean, you know I love you, but not in that way.”
“And what way is that exactly, Kadian?” She’d folded her arms across her torso and leveled me with a look that would have brought men to their knees.
“Uh…” I stumbled over my feet as I backed away from her, desperately looking for something to say. “Well, I mean… I’ve just… never looked at you that way, Bri. Not that it would be a bad way to look at you, I mean, look at you, you know, you’re beautiful, and…”
She’d burst out laughing. I don’t think I’d ever seen her laugh so hard. After several minutes of keeling over and turning the brightest shade of red, she gasped for breath.
“Oh, I love you too. And never, ever in that way.” She came over, gave me a hug, and I kissed her head.
“Thank the Gods. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Bri.”
“You won’t ever have to worry about it.”
At the time, I had believed her. How foolish I’d been.
At the end of the final corridor, we were greeted by two guards in uniforms I’d never seen in Azmeer.
Four runes woven into their tunics, the thread the colors associated with each of the courts.
A pale shimmering purple for the Court of Whispers, blue similar to the color of Lil’s eyes for the Court of Reflection, red for the Court of Shadows, how original, and amber for the Eternal Court.
“Good morning, gentleman,” Tura said as we reached them. The guards maneuvered the spears they each held tightly, forming a barrier in front of the entryway. “Now, that’s not polite, is it?” Tura frowned, looking at me as I stepped back from the weapons. “Is it, Kadian?”
“Uh,” I stammered, looking at the guards whose expressions had only grown more irreverent, “no?”
“Please do your job, and allow us to pass. We don’t have all morning. As you know, there is a council to attend to.”
“Only you’re on our list, Tura. Who is this?
” One of the gruff voices asked. There were no distinguishing traits about these men.
Nothing marked them as members of any court.
Their eyes were…gray? Lifeless. Their skin pallid, their hair dull.
Perhaps they aren’t court members? Maybe they were people who failed at the Courting?
Or are connected to respected families but failed to succeed in their years?
Maybe they were never invited to a Courting?
I tried to peek at their ears to see if the signature Fae point rested at the tip, but was interrupted by Tura.
“This is Kadian Taldot. New initiate of the Court of Shadows. My personal scribe.” Tura said as the guards looked between themselves, unsure how to proceed.
Personal scribe? Oh Gods.
“Per Article 30 section 47 addendum 2,” Tura paused, “Librarians of each of the Houses of Azmeer are expected to attend the meetings of the Vitality Council. Should they wish, their personal scribes may attend in order to assist them.”
The little color that remained in the guards’ faces dissipated as Tura stepped closer toward them, unafraid of their weapons. “That means,” she pushed one of the spears to the side, “to get the fuck out of my way. Kadian, let’s go.”
The guards, now standing at full attention, nodded without uttering another word. Moving aside, they allowed us to pass.
“Why, thank you, gentleman. Have a most auspicious day.”
Tura didn’t turn back to see if I had followed, she knew I had. Perhaps she heard my footsteps fall into place behind her or the ricocheting of my heart beating against my chest, I couldn’t be sure. The one thing I knew was that Tura was no one to mess with.
Stepping into the room, I was first drawn to the tables in the form of concentric circles that rested in the middle of the space.
There were four circles. All but one had four chairs, while one had eight, the second largest of the rings.
The chamber was illuminated by a window at the back of the room, looking out onto a part of the city I hadn’t seen, not that I had been paying much attention to those things.
The air whistled, like it was pulsating with magic, ready to burst—unable to hold the waves of power that were being brought forth within its walls.
Four courts, four styles of magic. None alike in their appearance, and yet their supposed origins had all hailed from Gods.
The sound of feet tapping against the marble floor was the only constant from outside these walls, everything else was unique, distinct.
It belonged to this room alone. The smell of magic, which I now associated with something sweet, the flickering of the lanterns on the wall that seem to radiate a glow I’d never seen.
All of it was foreign. And I shouldn’t have been seeing any of it.
Act as if you belong, you’re a court member. They’ll focus on your hair—not your ears.
“I assume the heads of the courts sit at the table in the middle.” I pointed to the smallest table with four chairs.
“Then you would be mistaken. Lesson one, Kadian.” Tura turned to face me. The amber of her eyes hardened as if they were lithifying before me. “There are things you must know and remember while in this room.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat that had lived there since my entry to the House of Shadows earlier that morning.
“You will not be permitted to share what happens within these walls with anyone other than those in attendance. The Vitality Council is fundamental to the structure of Azmeer. It is the center of our democracy, do you understand?”
No.
“Yes,” I said.
“The heads of the courts will convene to discuss the issues of Eldara. Everything from petty squabbles to new decrees for the year are decided within these walls. The circles are divided into quadrants, each quadrant is represented by the head of that court,” she pointed to the largest, furthest outward ring, “then the two scribes affiliated with that court will sit in front of them,” she pointed to the ring with the eight seats, “followed by the librarian for the House of that court here in Azmeer,” she gestured to herself before the third ring with four seats, “and our scribes should we have any.” Pointing to the smallest ring.
“Why…”
“Spit it out,” she said, hands on her hips.
“Why do the heads of the courts sit at the largest table? The space between them is large enough that you might have to scream in order to hear them.” The room itself was gargantuan.
Similar to the selection room, the areas surrounding each court’s quadrant offered what I believed to be connections to that court.
The area surrounding the Court of Shadows was made of onyx… again.
“For safety,” she said, turning to make her way to her seat.
“What do you mean?” I asked as a prickle crawled its way up my neck like an insect on a log.
“You’ll see. Sit there.” She pointed to one of the seats at the smallest table.
“Take notes, we’ll have to compile this for our records later.
And Kadian,” she leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear, “don’t be fooled by what you see here today.
” Why would I be fooled? First Asana’s warning and now, Tura’s.
Is there anything about Azmeer I can trust?
I offered her a curt nod before she made her way to the next table, some twenty-five feet from my own.
Sitting down at my seat, made known to me by the symbol of the dagger I’d held during the sorting ceremony, I removed the satchel, retrieving the stylus and papers from the bag.
Take notes. When was the last time I had taken notes?
There was a reason that all but one of my classes had been courses Brida had been taking.
She was the notetaker. The record keeper, the Queen of Study.
A kingdom where Kadian’s go to lament and die.
While I was her useless sidekick who occasionally, okay always, benefitted from her academic mind.
The one time I had chosen to be adventurous, take a course I had wanted to study had been geological studies.
I’d always had a passion for minerals and rocks.
Brida had been too busy with literary courses, so that had been just for me.
And as much as I had loved the material, quite literally, it had still been a struggle.
Note taking, like reading, wasn’t easy for me.
I would have to feign this like everything else these days.
Before I could dig myself deeper into my hole of self-pity, I was distracted by the large figure thudding down in the chair next to me, and the glow of the rock symbol before them. I looked back to my dagger where it remained dull.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“What are you doing here?” Oz whispered back.
In the entryway, participants arrived—magisters, librarians, and their scribes. Tura spoke for a few moments with the librarian of the Eternal House before returning to her seat.
“Oz,” I reached for his forearm, “what the fuck are you doing here? Last I heard, you were going over the accident in Hadash. Nothing to do with the Vitality Council.” My voice was shriller than I intended it to be.
“It’s a funny story,” Oz said as I wiped a hand over my face. “Turns out the guy I was working on all of that with was the librarian for the Eternal House. He wasn’t always but, Ilmer, the old librarian, well, he was so old that he seems to have been sent to the court so he can be there and…”
“Die?!” I nearly screamed.
This had to be an experiment. Why am I being tested in this way? All I want to do is find a way back to Brida and Lil, and instead, we have to be ants on a hill, being watched over by some overlord. The Primals, maybe? Why is this happening to me?
“I guess. I’m not sure how old the Fae can really be. In some cases, they can live up to thousands of years old, while others, well we just aren’t sure.”
My mouth gaped open at everything I was being told.
“What’s the end?” I asked.
“The end of what?” Oz looked puzzled.
“The story… why are you here?”
“Oh, right. So, when Ilmer was sent to the Eternal Court, they promoted Almer.”
“Ilmer and Almer?”
“They’re cousins. So he was promoted, and because we had been working together already during my placement he said “Osforth” and I said “please call me Oz” and he said “only if you call me Al, as I’m not Il.” Oz smacked his knee and laughed. “Do you get it?”
“Sure,” I said as if the universe weren’t playing a cruel joke on me that refused to end.
“So I said, Al, how can I help you?” And he told me that he wanted me as his personal scribe. Can you believe it? Wait a minute.” Oz looked around the room before leaning in, “You’re a scribe too?”
I thrust my arms out as if this was the point I had been trying to make all along. “Why else do you think I’m here!” I sneered.
“Oh,” Oz giggled. Something I had never seen him do. Attempting to cover his ever-growing smile, he snorted. “I’m so sorry.”
Throwing my arms down on the desk, I attempted to bury my face before I jolted upright. “Wait, this is great. You can take notes, and I can borrow them. This works perfectly.”
“You know what’s funny…” Oz said, “Tamra really is the notetaker between the two of us.”
Clenching my hands into fists, I opened my mouth, ready to speak, when a figure emerged at the head of the table.
“Shall we begin?”