Page 58 of Children of Fallen Gods

“Clean yourself up and get dressed.” Nura threw a military uniform onto my bed. “We have a meeting to attend. One battle might be over, but we still have a war to fight.”

Didn’t I know it.

I obeyed, and when I met Nura again, she led me to the library of the Farlione home.

It might have been one of the most stunning rooms I’d ever seen — even compared to the cold grace of the Threllian Lords’ architecture. The entire Farlione estate was beautiful. But this room was the one that reminded me most of Max’s cottage, albeit a much, much grander version of it. Still, it had the same cluttered warmth, the shelves overflowing with books and packed with curious oddities. I wondered if Max used to spend a lot of time here when he was young. I could picture him, tucked away into little crevices with a book, hiding from whatever social gatherings were happening beyond the doors.

But no one here, today, was looking at the books. There was a long table in the center of the room, covered in maps. Zeryth sat at its head. Anserra was there, too, as were Eslyn and Ariadnea. The others I did not recognize. There were five figures, all of whom looked to be in their fifties or sixties — two were Valtain. All of them wore red sashes around their neck, hanging down their backs.

“The Council of the Orders,” Nura murmured to me. “Or what’s left of them, anyway.”

My interest was piqued. I had read of the Council, but never met any of its members — though I’d tried to get one or two of them alone during the ball, what felt like a lifetime ago. But even though I didn’t know these people, they clearly knew me. When we entered the room, every set of eyes turned towards me. As I sat down, I could feel magic reaching for me, a mind trying to examine mine. I carefully guarded the wall across my thoughts, my gaze slipping to my left, where a Valtain man with long, wavy silver hair eyed me with great curiosity, smoking a pipe.

I gave him a polite smile that told him I knew exactly what he’d been up to, and he returned it with what looked like genuine satisfaction.

I still felt awful. But I was careful to appear completely put together.

“Ah yes,” Zeryth said, eyeing me. “Our savior returns.”

He looked exhausted, the shadows beneath his eyes even darker now. He leaned back in his chair, gaze trailing around the table.

“As we all have seen, thanks to Tisaanah, the Kazarans have surrendered. Retreated, but… I suppose we can’t have everything. The question remains, then, of what we do next. There are many cities in the north that need to be dismantled. General Farlione is currently laying siege upon the city of Antedale.” Again, a twitch of disapproval at his lip. “Though I have made it clear that time is of the essence.”

Just the sound of Max’s name made my heart leap. A siege. I wondered what his plan was. I knew he must have one.

“And after that,” Zeryth went on, “he will move on to other cities in the south. We, then, are left with many here.” His gaze fell to me. “Thankfully, as we all saw, we have…significant resources. It should be quick work, if we leverage all that we have. And so, that brings me to my request for all of you. Many of you have strong connections among Aran nobilities. I ask you to write to them. Ask for their support, from their private armies. We have cities to conquer, and we must conquer them quickly.”

The Valtain man across from me let out a puff of smoke, gesturing to the map on the table.

“This,” he said, “is a great deal of sacrifice, Zeryth. There is a high cost to what you plan to do.”

It was difficult for me to hear accents in Aran, but his words were tinged in an unfamiliar lilt that made me think that he, too, was not a native speaker.

Zeryth gave him a withering stare.

“Are you suggesting, Iya, that we can’t win?”

“Of course not. You can certainly win.” I did not miss the change in his wording. “But the Orders were never intended to be an Aran institution. They belong to no nation. And yet, you want to discard thousands of lives in an attempt to secure Ara’s throne. This is not our fight.”

Zeryth’s lip twitched.

“We have already had this discussion. Does anyone have anything more helpful to contribute to this conversation?”

But Iya was not done.

“Are you feeling alright, Zeryth? You don’t look well.”

Zeryth gave him a cold smile. “I feel perfectly fine.”

“Mm.” Iya leaned back in his chair. “As I said. There are some things, some magics, that are not worth the cost.”

Did I imagine the way that his eyes landed on me before moving back down the table?

“As always, I so appreciate your insight, Councilor,” Zeryth said. Then, pointedly, he rolled out the map. “But we have more important things to discuss. Our path has already been decided. It’s just a matter of how.”

* * *

The meeting wenton for hours, and by the end, my head was pounding. The future yawned out in front of me like a terrible, endless mountain. Whatever sense of accomplishment I’d felt after this victory withered away with every new X slashed over the map.

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