Page 23 of Daughter of the Ninth Line: Part Two

The Eleventh and Twelfth Lines would not get their aid. As we stood at the end of the meeting, I watched Ingrid Ulsen—the only Baroness in the Conclave and leader of the Twelfth Line—storm out of the room, closely followed by Baron Abaster. I raged inside at the weakness of the Barons. My father had argued for official aid, but he’d been voted against pretty quickly.

Feodore Vylan leaned back in his chair at the head of the table. “Women. This is why they shouldn’t lead Baronies. Too emotional.”

Too emotional? Her people weredying.He wouldn’t understand, though; I doubted the Vylans cared if their own people lived or died, as long as they remained at the top of the power structure.

My father rose, not even hiding his sneer, and I stood with him. Vox looked… uncomfortable. There was something in the way his eyes were shuttered, the way he was holding himself stiff, the way the blood rushed through his veins as his heart thumped hard in his chest that told me that perhaps he didn’t agree with his father.

My father turned. “If you’ll excuse us, we must freshen up before the banquet.” His tone was disdainful, and we left. I heard the footsteps of Zier Tarrin behind us, and the door slammed closed with a little more force than necessary.

“Baron Taeme,” Baron Tarrin called softly, and my father slowed his steps. “Can we speak?” Nodding once, my father waited until he caught up. “Thank you for your cooperation. It’s unfortunate that more of the Upper Lines didn’t follow suit.”

“Let’s walk. This building has ears and eyes, and it is harder to catch a moving target.” We walked in silence for a little longer, until my father was happy there were no other ears listening. “Unfortunately, not many of the others have the balls to go against the First Line. Preservation of their own power is the first in their minds.”

Tarrin shook his head. “The Eleventh and Twelfth Lines will not survive another year, unless something is done. I’m doing what I can, but my Line is also feeling the strain of consecutive droughts. At this rate, the only survivors of the Lowest Lines will be the ones that they’ve shipped off to Boellium War College.”

Father nodded. “I understand. I will try to talk to Lunderov and see if he’s open to at least assisting us with passage through his island, rather than sending it all the way down through Boemouthe. If we can figure out a quicker passage so the food doesn’t spoil on the way, the Third Line will send aid to the West.”

Tarrin’s face flashed briefly with relief. “Thank you, Taeme. It’s hard to watch them wither and die on our doorstep, but so many see them as expendable.”

Father clapped him on the shoulder. “Not the Third Line, son. We’ll do what we can.”

Tarrin’s face got solemn. “I fear the very foundations of Ebrus rest on it. We are a tinderbox, ready to explode.”

I tilted my head at him. When his eyes met mine, I saw a very real fire there. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would be the one to strike the match.

Excusing myself from my father as he talked to another one of the Barons, I slipped out of the banquet room and moved down the darkened hallway toward the library. You’d be excused for thinking I’d all of a sudden become a studious pupil, but in reality, there was something niggling at my brain, a mystery I needed to solve, and I knew it centered around Avalon and the Ninth Line.

The library here at the Hall of Ebrus was second to no other. It contained generations of knowledge. Pushing open the large, ornate doors, I stepped inside. It was quiet, but lights still burned in the sconces.

“Hello?”

A small woman, younger than I imagined the Librarian to be, appeared. “Hello there, Heir Taeme. Can I help you?” She was kind of plain, with a deep line between her eyebrows that told methat she spent a lot of time reading small, indecipherable text. She would have been in her thirties, maybe a little older, but not by much.

“Librarian, I’m after books on?—”

“The Ninth Line. I’m aware, Mr. Taeme. We librarians have quite the network all over Ebrus. Knowing the Conclave was being called, I gathered all the information we had on the shelves regarding the Line and their powers. That was what Librarian Enora suggested you were looking into?”

I hadn’t even realized that was the Librarian’s name at Boellium. I’d just kind of thought of all Librarians as, well, Librarian.

My mouth was hanging open, and I snapped it shut. “Uh, yeah. I am. Thank you, Librarian.”

She waved a hand, like it was nothing. “Come, I’ve placed them all in the reading room. If you’re going to look at all the material tonight, you might need to get started now. I expected you earlier.” Was there light censure in her tone?

“Apologies for keeping you from your bed.”

“I’m the night Librarian, Heir Taeme. I would have been here among the books, whether you arrived or not.” She stepped up to a door and unlocked it. “I don’t need to tell you that some of these books are very old and need to be handled with care. Also, none of them may leave this room.”

“Of course, Librarian.”

Her eyes were knowledgeable, like I was just a babe in the woods who needed to learn to find my own way home. “You’re welcome here. The library holds the answers to many questions, if you just know where to look.”

With that, she was gone, and I dived into the huge pile of books in front of me. It was going to be a long night.

Fifteen

Avalon

Boellium without both Vox and Hayle was a different beast. Simultaneously more volatile and relaxed. No matter what happened while the cats were away, the mice could never rise up and change the system in which they lived. But there were more parties, and more fights, and nothing felt as serious.

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