Captain Lorencz had invited Elliot, her fiance, to join us, and he listened with fascination as everyone caught him up on events and Droit related our adventure over dinner. To my surprise, Droit even admitted that Might had been returned to him two months ago. That little revelation interrupted the story for nearly forty minutes with more recriminations about keeping secrets, but eventually Lorencz and Aronson let it go. Neither would have been happy to know that we were still holding back one fact: that Yzyrchye had saved Droit’s life in the hospital, not me. That information might have derailed the conversation for good. But at last he finished the story and the five of us retired to the library to sit by the fire.
“You say you never got a clear view of Kyrchye?” Aronson asked, brooding.
“Not really, although I can tell you that it isn’t a big man in armor, despite all those stained-glass windows in the Cathedral.” Droit poured himself a glass of apple juice. “It did seem large, though. And bright.”
“And you still think it’s a god?” His cousin sounded nettled.
“Kyrchye and Yzyrchye exist, they’re transients, and they’re more powerful than we are, so we might as well call them gods. I agree with the cardinal on that.” Droit walked back and settled into a chair. “But I’m not going to start praying to them, if that’s what you mean. Yzyrchye would be too eager to answer, and Kyrchye — well, I don’t think Kyrchye really cares.”
“He grants miracles,” Captain Lorencz protested.
“’Miracles.’ You know what I think? I think communicants who perform miracles are really sentinels who were never identified. They don’t understand what they’re doing, so they say Kyrchye did it for them.” Droit shrugged. “I’ve been blasted by balefire and by holy fire, and they both feel the same.”
“How could a priest be a sentinel and not realize it?” I asked, intrigued by the idea.
“It’s not impossible,” Aronson replied, sounding thoughtful. “If nobody recognized the signs of manifestation, or if the child had been taught that adjuration was bad and tried to ignore the signs, it could happen. But most children want to be sentinels. The Vigilance usually gets the opposite — children who fool themselves into believing they’ve manifested. It’s always heartbreaking when they finally accept the truth.”
I nodded, remembering my own childhood desires. I’d tried my best, but despite my parents’ promises, I was just as mundane as the rest of Sovereign Lament’s children.
“I don’t think it matters,” Elliot mused. “How we define Kyrchye or his powers isn’t nearly as important as how we serve him. What’s important is working together to create a stable and harmonious world.”
Lorencz beamed at her boyfriend and Droit tilted his glass in mocking salute.
“When I was there….” I struggled to put the dimly remembered sensation into words. “Everything made sense. It was as though I could see this giant pattern, and I knew exactly where I belonged in it. I think it was the most comforting, secure feeling I’ve ever had.”
For a moment everyone was quiet.
“Axton got the better deal,” Droit said at last.
“What did you feel?” Aronson asked, his voice hushed. Droit shook his head. For a moment I didn’t think he was going to answer. Then he spoke.
“Regret.” He looked up at his cousin. “Don’t say it.”
Aronson seemed subdued.
“Maybe later.”
“And I heard Cardinal Croix call Far a young god,” Lorencz said, glancing at Elliot. “That’s going to tighten some sphincters in the Reverence.”
“At least something good’s come out of all of this, then,” Aronson said with a half-smile. He shook his head. “How did your investigation go, Arcady?”
“Shrike and I didn’t find much in the Orderhouse, but we’ve locked down Carel’s house and we’ll search it tomorrow.” Lorencz sighed and set down her drink. “It’s going to be an early morning, so….”
That was the signal for us to leave, and we all pulled on our coats and stepped out onto Aronson’s expansive porch to say our goodbyes. Lorencz and Elliot accepted Aronson’s offer of a ride back in his carriage.
“We’ll take our own,” Droit said, throwing an arm around my shoulders again. Lorencz rolled her eyes, Aronson sighed, and Elliot winked at me.
Something screamed above us, and the night sky burst into brilliant light.
Aronson hurtled himself forward, knocking Droit and me into the wall of the house as he shouted. Lorencz was shouting, too, pulling Elliot out of the way as an object slammed into the porch. The screaming stopped and the searing light vanished as if someone had blown out a candle.
I groaned and tried to sit up, but somebody was laying on top of me. After a moment of confusion, Droit, and I untangled ourselves.
“I can’t move my —“ Aronson twisted around. I looked over his shoulder. Might was there, its baleblade buried halfway into the marble porch. The blade had sliced through Aronson’s trousers, pinning his leg to the ground.
I scrambled around him on my hands and knees and yanked at the fabric. Aronson’s servants opened the front door, looking out at us with wide eyes.
“Here.” Droit knelt next to me and cut through Aronson’s pants leg with one of his daggers. “You all right, cuz?”
“Just scratched.” Aronson rolled over, his face pale, and drew up his bleeding leg.
“Narrow miss.” Droit’s voice shook with barely repressed anger.
“I think it was aimed at us,” I said, sitting back and looking up at the sky. All I could see were the stars and moon. I don’t know what I’d expected — maybe Yzyrchye hovering overhead like some giant, bloated insect. “Droit and me. You saved our lives, my liege.”
“Sharp eyes.” Droit stood and held out a hand for his cousin, helping him back to his feet. “Guess I owe you one.”
“Since I nearly killed you a couple of months ago, let’s just call it quits.”
“No, I don’t owe you for me. I owe you for him.” Droit jerked a thumb in my direction.
“Well, one of you really pissed off Yzyrchye this time,” Lorencz observed, her voice still shaky. I noticed that she was eyeing the sky, too, perhaps discerning for another breach in the Line.
Droit slowly walked around the sword.
“How the fuck did it get Might back?” he demanded. “Kyrchye shredded it into raw bale, right out of my hands.”
“Maybe it’s not the same sword,” Elliot suggested, wrapping his arm around Lorencz’s waist. “Is there any way to tell?”
Lorencz pulled her attention away from the sky and gave her librarian a wry smile.
“It looks the same.” Droit stopped next to me. “But I can’t feel it in my head.”
“Try touching it,” I suggested. “Lorencz, my liege — if it looks like it’s affecting him —“
“We’ll knock him ass-backwards into the bushes,” Lorencz agreed with enthusiasm. Droit shot her a scornful look, then carefully reached forward and slid his hand around the pale hilt.
“It’s Might,” he said, slowly. “But it doesn’t feel as strong as it used to be.”
Aronson reached out and brushed the hilt with his fingertips, then snatched his hand back with repugnance.
“It feels the same to me,” he said, wiping his hand on his pants. “Like a slug crawling across my brain. I don’t think you should be fondling it like that.”
“No, it’s different. I used to feel it inside of my head, manipulating my thoughts. Now it feels — more distant.”
“Take your hand off it, Droit,” Lorencz said firmly. “Or what you’re going to feel next is Aronson’s hedgerow up your chute.”
“You can try, Lorencz.” But Droit pulled his hand away and took a step back.
“It could be a different, weaker version of Might,” I said, mentally running through the possibilities. “Or it could be that Kyrchye healed whatever was in your brain that was keeping you susceptible to Might’s influence in the first place. Or it may be that every time you give up Might, its influence over you weakens.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’m throwing it back across the Line right now,” Droit declared, annoyed. “Open a gap, Michael.”
“So Yzyrchye can toss it at you again?”
“Take the damn thing to the Reverence,” Lorencz advised. “Cardinal Croix can destroy it, or at least lock it up.”
“All right. For now.” Droit shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around the sword. With a tug, it slid out of the stone.
“And just to be certain it get there,” Lorencz said sourly, “I’m going to go with you. Sorry, El, but I don’t trust Droit and that sword on their own.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” Droit bundled the sword up. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll go with you, Arcady.” Elliot looked up from the deep gash in the marble. “Now that you’ve told me the story, I want to see what happens next.”
“We’ll all go with you,” Aronson said firmly. “It’s safer that way.”
We were forced to wait in the nave of the Greywing Cathedral until the cardinal was located and brought to us. He’d lost the beard and the wild hair and was wearing his crimson cardinal’s robes again, Kyrchye’s golden sun gleaming on his chest. He looked solemn as he regarded the balesword.
“I can’t destroy it, but I can lock it up,” he agreed after hearing our story. “And I’m pleased that you feel able to surrender it so easily this time, General.”
Droit gave him a dark look, as if waiting for the punchline, but the cardinal simply lit a lamp and led us down into the foundation of the cathedral, which was filled with the tombs of royalty and heroes.
“I hope a tomb is acceptable,” he said, unlocking a door and opening it.
“I don’t care where you put it, as long as it stays there.” Droit slid the sword from the coat and laid it on the sarcophagus lid. He backed out and Croix lowered his head, saying a quick prayer of thanksgiving. Lorencz, Elliot, and I lowered our heads, too. When we were done, Croix locked the door and led us back upstairs.
“Can you hear it?” I asked, softly. Droit shook his head.
“No. But it would be better if I didn’t know where it was.”
I nodded, making a mental note to ask Cardinal Croix to move it, later.
“Let’s just hope that nobody in the Reverence ever decides to switch teams,” Aronson said after we’d said our farewells and headed back to his carriage. “That’s a dangerous weapon to leave around for some religious fanatic to pick up.”
“It’s safer in the cathedral than it was under my bed,” Droit said with a shrug.
“True,” Lorencz said. “Not as many people get into the cathedral.”
“Arcady!” Elliot laughed.
“Watch it, Lorencz.” Droit grabbed me by the arm and steered me away. “You had your chance to get into my bed.”
“Sure, who hasn’t?” Lorencz shot back. Even Aronson chuckled at that. I waved over my shoulder as Droit marched me off.
“She’s exaggerating,” Droit said, as the laughter faded behind us.
“It’s all right,” I tucked my hands into my pockets as we walked down the icy street toward Southgate. “I know you’ve had a lot of sexual partners.”
Droit’s expression darkened.
“What I said across the Line — I was angry. I am not playing a game with you. I’m trying very hard not to, at least.”
I pulled my coat more tightly around me.
“I believe you.”
“Really?” He gave a short laugh. “Then you’re the only one who does. Michael and Lorencz think I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Did they say that?”
“At different times and in different ways.” He put an arm around my shoulders and I felt a warm glow. It made me happy to think that my companions cared about me.
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
“To fuck off.”
I looked away so he wouldn’t see me smile.
“They just don’t know how much you’ve done for me.”
“Let’s see … I’ve insulted you, I’ve attacked you…”
“You’ve found me an apartment and defended me and followed me across the Line and gave up Might for me.”
“Huh.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “I guess.” I could tell from his tone of voice that he wasn’t satisfied. His confidence had been shaken today, and I suspected he was looking for reassurance, although he’d never ask for it.
“And you kiss well,” I added. “And I like the way you pour me drinks and walk with your arm around me.”
“Oh? I’m a good dog?”
“You know, you never answered my question,” I said, looking up at him as we walked. “About whether you were going to be my hound.”
He frowned and pulled me closer.
“I followed you to the gates of heaven, Ax. I thought that made it pretty clear.”
“It does sound somewhat romantic, when you put it that way,” I admitted. He laughed.
“Nobody’s ever accused me of being romantic before.”
“Would you like to read one of my novels, to learn more about it?”
“No, thanks.”
“I thought you liked the part you read at my apartment.”
“It was about sex. I like sex — it’s all the work required to get to the sex that I find uninteresting.”
“I think you’ve done a pretty good job putting in the work,’” I said. Droit stopped and raised an eyebrow. I turned to face him, counting off on my fingers.
“Arguments, confessions, misunderstandings, apologies, rescues — you’ve covered most of the major romantic plot points. Except you haven’t whisked me away from a romantic rival,” I said gravely, “and there hasn’t been nearly enough kissing.”
“I can defend myself against both of those criticisms.” Droit’s green eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “First, you have our roles reversed. You’re the one who whisked me away from the romantic rival. And apparently Yzyrchye is very unhappy about it.”
“Oh.” I blinked as I tried to picture myself as a romantic lead.
“And second, I’m willing to make up for lost time on the kissing…” he moved his hand and gently cupped my face. I looked up, tingling with anticipation. “…but I’m freezing my balls off out here. Let’s go back to your apartment and build a nice warm fire, first.” He straightened up, grinning.
“Bad dog,” I said with disgust, yanking my coat collar back up and striding away. “Heel.”
Droit laughed and caught up, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“Just a few more blocks,” he promised, “and then I’ll show you how well this dog can beg.”