Requiem of Reprisal Page 2

  Domitius scratched his nose. “My apologies. I followed the path before me.”

  “A path that leads off into the weeds and brambles,” Jora muttered. “Never mind. We have three days to restore the queen.”

  “Two,” Tylia said. “It is already evening. Rivva must be restored by morning on the third, giving us two days between.”

  Cloelia smirked, making Jora’s face warm. If the Colossa didn’t hold Jora in such obvious contempt, they would get along so much better.

  “‘Tis done,” Arc said. “Thou must prepare for the possibility we will not restore the lady afore Saturn’s Day. If speaking to them abhors thee, choose another to address them instead. Perchance one o’the cabinet ministers would do it.”

  “I’ve sent a messenger to them,” Behrendt said, “as you requested, Lady Minister. They should be arriving any minute.”

  Jora breathed in and out. She didn’t look forward to that conversation, but neither did she want to delay it any longer than necessary.

  “And the pyre for your dearly departed brother will be ready within the hour,” Behrendt said. “Do you have a preference for the Devoted to issue his last rites?”

  She didn’t know the names of the most senior priests at the temple, a fact that embarrassed her as their leader, but she hadn’t found time to sit down with them, or the elders at the Justice Bureau, to talk privately since being appointed Minister of Truth less than three weeks earlier. Once Queen Rivva was restored to the throne, she would make a point to do that. “I don’t. Do you recommend anyone?”

  “Devoted Calix is the most senior. He manages the Second Godly Redeemer House of Prayer on those occasions when Dominee Ibsa must be absent.”

  “Good. If you would, send a request for him to meet me after I’ve had a chance to talk with the cabinet ministers.” If he gave Jora the impression he was a truly decent sort, not simply power-hungry and covetous like Ibsa was, she would name him the new dominum. The sooner everything returned to normal, the better.

  She turned to the doorway on the ground floor, once again reminded that the Krykon had ripped the door from its hinges. The dented and mangled hunk of useless iron lay a few feet away on the gravel. “We need to have this replaced.”

  “I will have masons and smiths working around the clock until it is secure, Lady Minister,” Behrendt said.

  “Thank you, Behrendt. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Could you also send someone to the Royal Symphony to inquire about a flute maker? I’ll need a new flute to replace the one I burned up.”

  He bowed. “I shall see to it personally.” He hurried off in the direction the crowd had gone.

  Once all the injured Colossus warriors were loaded into wagons and off to the hospital, Jora turned her thoughts to the meeting. Leaning on Arc’s arm, she plodded into the palace. It was all she could do to lift her feet time after time, climbing the long staircases to the third story, where the conference rooms and offices were located. Arc, her near-constant companion of late, offered to carry her up, but she waved him off, using the banister to support her weight as she dragged herself up the steps. I can make it. At the top, she paused to gather her strength and wobbled. Arc’s quick arm around her waist kept her from tumbling backward down the stairs.

  “After the meeting, thou canst sleep,” he said.

  “No, after this, I must say goodbye to Finn.” Jora trudged on, her feet shuffling across the carpet, first to her bedroom to change into clothes that didn’t stink of Krykon, and then downstairs to the east meeting room. The hum of low voices quieted when she walked in.

  Around the grand, oval table sat eight ministers and vice ministers, with the notable exception of those who’d been turned to gold or slain on the Isle of Shess. Jora couldn’t help but notice all were women except Kaiso Jeppe, Minister of Domestic Matters, and most were wrinkled with age. At twenty-three, she stood out as the youngest among them by at least thirty years, some as much as fifty. A few of them gasped. All of them gaped, their faces filled with curious anticipation.

  “Minister Jora,” said Kaiso. He inclined his head, though he didn’t stand. “We’re pleased to see you unhurt.”

  “Thank you,” she said, falling into the chair at the table’s head. Rivva’s chair. “And thank you for coming on such short notice.” Her voice was heavy and scratchy, as if she’d recently awakened.

  “I can’t help but admire how brightly your eyes shine,” Kaiso said. “I can’t believe I never noticed before.”

  Jora gave him a tired smile. “You wouldn’t have. Their color change is a recent development brought on when I took the Mesitalic through the gateway to the outer realm of perception.”

  Several murmured their amazement and the sparkling gold color. Though her reflection would take some getting used to, her vision hadn’t changed.

  “Where’s Queen Rivva?” asked Kuma, the Vice Minister of Finance.

  “She couldn’t make it,” Jora said.

  Several of the cabinet members asked why, a few in demanding tones.

  “What’s happened?” Kaiso asked.

  “I’ve brought you together to explain,” Jora said. “I haven’t slept in two days and just finished battling a twelve-foot monster, so bear with me if I don’t answer your questions before you ask them.”

  Standing in the far corner of the room, Arc winked at her.

  She gave the cabinet ministers a brief summary of the events of the last few days. They were well aware that three delegates from Serocia, Mangend, Arynd Ban, and Barad Selegal had gone to the Isle of Shess to begin drafting the constitution of the new nation of Shess, a sovereign entity governed by representatives from all four countries. A few of the ministers reiterated their disapproval of the plan. Jora held up a hand to silence them, too tired to reprimand them for speaking out of turn. She wanted to get through her story as quickly as possible.

  “Where did the monster come from?” asked Quirza, Minister of Finance.

  “One of the delegates from Mangend summoned it,” Eirny Eque said. She’d been part of the team Queen Rivva had dubbed the Peace Council and had been vocal about her lack of faith in the plan. But as Vice-Minister of Foreign Matters and Overseer of Trade, Eirny offered valuable input on the feasibility of establishing the trade of godfruit as Shess’s primary source of revenue.

  “That’s right,” Jora said. “The grand duke of Mangend sent two military officers and the prime maga as his three delegates. Their mission was not to participate in the drafting of the constitution but to summon the Krykon Urielle.”

  “To slay Jora,” Eirny said.

  “And everyone who got in its way, apparently,” Kuma said.

  “Ah,” Kaiso said. “So that’s why we were dismissed and ordered to stay in our homes. I’d heard something dangerous was coming to Jolver, but I had no idea it was... that.”

  “And those Colossi weren’t terribly forthcoming about it,” said Quirza. She cast a resentful glare at Arc.

  “If you knew it was after you, why did you come back here?” another woman asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Jora said. “I don’t recall your name.”

  “Dina Coers, Vice Minister of Finance and Bursar of War. Didn’t your presence here lure it to Jolver?”

  Jora nodded. “It’s a fair question. Zivenna, the prime maga, survived the summons and the Krykon’s initial attack. And she still had the Mesitalic she’d used to summon it. One of the Legion companies sent a squad of men to Capital Village to investigate the reason for our sudden inability to contact our delegates. They found everyone dead or turned to gold, except Zivenna. She was discovered hiding in a cellar, disguised as a young woman. They took her to their camp to be treated for her many wounds. When I went to the Isle of Shess to question her, I learned her true identity.” Jora glanced at Arc. What followed had angered him, but he’d since come to recognize that not all of Jora’s decisions were poor ones. “The Krykon sensed my presence at the Legion camp and went there to kill me. During the upheaval, Zivenna attempted to escape. One of the Colossi tried to stop her, fatally wounding her in the process. I took the opportunity to make an ally of her.”

  “To turn her into your pet monster?” Eirny asked.

  Jora sighed. “That’s one way to put it. As my ally, Zivenna was compelled to tell me the truth, and she said there was a method for unsummoning the Krykon.”

  “Is that how you defeated it?” Kaiso asked.

  “I’m getting to that. To unsummon it, I needed the Mesitalic, which I’d taken from her, the godheart, which Dominee Ibsa had, and the help of a scribe and someone who’s mater-bent.” She assumed they understood that mater-bent referred to people who had the talent to handle the godheart.

  “The Concord,” someone whispered.

  “Right,” Jora said. “The Concord. With those two objects, the three of us could unsummon Urielle, and no one had to die. The problem was that the Krykon runs very quickly and doesn’t tire, and it was on the Isle of Shess, only a few hours’ travel from Jolver.”

  She told them about having Kaw, her giant bird ally, carry her to a vast canyon in Mangend, thus luring the monster to her. It took several hours for the Krykon to run that distance—time Jora would use in Serocia to gather the people and items she needed to unsummon it.

  “But when it came time for the three of us to meet,” she said, “Dominee Ibsa barricaded herself in the vault where she kept the godheart.”

  “You’re saying she refused to help?” Dina asked, scrunching her brow. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “It’s true,” Eirny said. “She promised to cooperate and then didn’t.”

  “Instead,” Jora said, “she took her niece with her to the vault and waited, thinking they would be safe until the Krykon finished w
ith me and moved on or unsummoned itself after completing its task.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Quirza said, crossing her arms.

  Jora ignored the comment. “When we found Ibsa’s hideaway, Zivenna tutored one of my recen-bent friends on how to break the inscriptions on the vault door.”

  “Forgive us, Minister,” Kaiso said. “We’re civil administrators, not justice officers. By recen-bent you mean a scribe?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Knowing the Krykon would come to our location, Ibsa sent her niece to the palace to hide with Queen Rivva, thinking to secure her safety. What Ibsa didn’t know was that her niece was preter-bent like I am. She was as much the Krykon’s target as I was.”

  “The Krykon came here?” Eirny asked, her voice quiet. “To the palace?”

  “So that’s what happened to the door,” Kaiso said.

  “Yes. Everyone was huddled together in the stronghold, including most of the Colossi and royal guards. Urielle didn’t statue the Colossi because of the godblood used to create them, but no one else had protection against her.”

  “God’s Challenger!” Kaiso said. “The queen...”

  “Yes.” Jora paused for a moment to let that sink in. “Queen Rivva, Lady Harienne, Chief Kyear, Ministers Vens, Clivina, and Marlind, and thirty royal guardsmen have been turned into gold statues.”

  Several ministers uttered oaths.

  “You brought the Colossi to life from stone,” Quirza said. “Can’t you restore them?”

  “No, I cannot. Because the Krykon was not under my command, I can’t control its magic.”

  “God’s challenger!” someone cried. Jora thought it might have been Themista Golon, Overseer of Education.

  “So you’re saying we have no queen,” Kuma said.

  Jora raised her palms. “Only for the moment. Retar has said that godblood will restore a gold statue to flesh, but it’s not without complications.” She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. “Unlike stone, gold is fatal.”

  The room erupted in wails.

  “Queen Rivva’s dead?” Quirza asked, her voice shrieky.

  “Challenge the god!” Dina cried. “No. No, no, no.”

  “No, listen,” Jora said, raising her voice to be heard. “We found a piece of partially eaten godfruit in the stronghold with the statues and wounded Colossi, many of whom said they witnessed Queen Rivva eat one.”

  The room fell silent, all eyes wide and trained on Jora, waiting. Hopeful.

  “We won’t know for certain until we return with the godheart, but if fortune is with us, she and the others will survive.” She paused, thinking of Finn’s body, burned from the inside. Even if he’d eaten godfruit before Retar killed him, such a grievous wound couldn’t have healed during the brief moment of death.

  Several let out a breath. “Did everyone eat it?” Kaiso asked. As the only one among them who’d served in the Legion, he was probably the only one intimately familiar with the godfruit and its magical ability to restore the dead to life.

  “The Colossi said they witnessed everyone eat one except for Ibsa’s niece. She was unfortunately slain.”

  “As were two of my warriors, Hortensius and Ovidius,” Arc said, “and Jora’s brother, Finn. Spirol for the god.”

  Jora took a deep breath and let it out. The worst part of the telling was over. “Many other Colossus warriors were badly injured, but they’re at the hospital now, receiving treatment. Let’s all hope their injuries don’t prove fatal.”

  “But what of the Krykon?” Kaiso asked. “What happened to it?”

  She thought back to the part of the conversation where their questions diverted her story. “Right. As I said, I had the Mesitalic, but without Ibsa’s help—and without the godheart—the Krykon would keep coming after me. Once it reached Jolver, my time was up. I had no options but to face it, and so I went to the outer realm of perception, hoping to draw it there or find more allies to help me battle it—something. That was when the Mesitalic started to melt. It melted into me, like I was some sort of sponge absorbing it. And with it inside me, I summoned the Krykon.” Jora wasn’t sure they needed to know the details of the battle or whether they were even interested. From the expressions on their faces, they’d heard enough and were eager to tackle the problems facing them in the world they knew and understood. “With the help of an armored ally and my flute, I defeated it, came home, and here we are.”

  The cabinet ministers sat in stunned silence, their matching faces reflecting their devastation at the news.

  “So what now?” Kaiso asked. “Besides bringing Dominee Ibsa to justice.”

  “We haven’t heard her version of events,” Quirza said. “In Serocia, we don’t condemn someone before hearing their story.”

  “She isn’t here,” Kaiso said. “If she has the godheart, isn’t that proof enough for you?”

  “She wears a barring cuff,” said Kuma. “She can’t be Observed, and so there’s only Jora’s word.”

  Arc said, “And the words o’the four Colossi and two other Serocian citizens who were present to witness her treachery. Minister Jora speaks the truth.”

  “Someone had to have influenced her,” Quirza said. “Perhaps someone is holding her hostage, making her do things she wouldn’t otherwise have done.”

  “‘Tis a person’s own mind, not her foe, that lures her to evil ways,” Arc said. “She had every opportunity to help, but she chose instead to work on behalf o’the Mangendans who attacked us.”

  “In that case,” Dina said, “I move that we strip Ibsa Bervoets of the title Dominee and appoint another in her stead—or rather, so that Minister Jora can appoint someone.”

  Among a rumble of agreement, Kaiso said, “I second the motion.”

  “All in favor?” asked Sananda Foy, Overseer of City Management.

  The room erupted in a chorus of “yea.”

  “All opposed?”

  “Nay,” Quirza said. “Until we hear her side, I won’t condemn her nor oust her from a long-held position faithfully served.”

  “One vote against, eight for,” Sananda said. “The motion carries.”

  “Good,” Jora said. “I’ll select someone to take her place. Does anyone object to Devoted Calix?”

  All around the table, heads shook.

  “He’s a good man,” Sananda said. “He’d be a fine choice.”

  “So you’re going after her?” Kaiso asked.

  “Yes. I’ll start in Renn, where her family lives. I’m going to take a couple enforcers with me to arrest her, confiscate the godheart—”

  “Ah,” Quirza said. “There it is.” She looked around the room at the other Ministers. “Don’t you see? Minister Jora has orchestrated this entire situation.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jora asked. Uneasiness churned in the pit of her stomach, and her forearms began to itch again.

  Quirza continued as if Jora had said nothing. “If the sitting monarch is incapacitated or slain and has no heir, reign falls to the head of the Iskori Temple, which is the Minister of Truth.” She leveled an accusing glare at Jora. “That’s why she lured the monster to the palace.”

  “That’s absurd,” Jora said. “I assure you I’ve no wish to rule Serocia.”

  “First, she convinced Queen Rivva to appoint her Minister of Truth,” Quirza said, “even though Dominee Ibsa was doing a fine job of it.”

  “With Ibsa out of the way,” Eirny said, “she becomes the only reasonable choice.” Jora couldn’t tell whether the vice minister was trying to help her or fuel Quirza’s argument.

  “Minister Jora doesn’t need the dominee out of the way,” Dina said. “She’s the Gatekeeper.”

  “Exactly. That’s how our constitution was written,” Kaiso said. “A safeguard in case our ruler fell in war-time.”

  Quirza leaned forward. “Or was murdered.”

  Jora’s hands burst into sweat. This wasn’t going at all how she imagined.

  “Then speak to Ibsa Bervoets,” Kaiso said. He leaned over the table and jabbed a finger at Quirza. “She’s the one who killed King Yaphet.”

  “That was an accident,” Eirny said. “Even Queen Rivva said so, and she was there.”

  A few other ministers and vice ministers joined in the argument, some standing and pounding the table with their hands, some accusing others of stirring up trouble for the sake of creating unrest, and others demanding another step down and let the qualified people do their jobs.