powerful Cenzi has made me.”
“You would have been this powerful regardless,” Varina told him. “The power is within you, Nico. It has nothing to do with Cenzi. It’s your power. You’ve always had it, and I’ve always known it.”
Nico drew himself up, releasing Liana. In the dimness of the temple, he seemed larger, and his voice-Varina realized-crackled with the power of the Scath Cumhacht. She wondered whether he even realized what he was doing: without a spell, without calling on Cenzi at all. She was amazed: this was nothing she could do herself, nothing any Numetodo could do. He was tapping the Second World instinctively and naturally, as if he were a part of it. She wondered, knowing this, what else he was capable of doing. Karl, I could use you now. Together, perhaps we could understand this… “ Is this what you’ve come to do, Varina?” Nico continued. “To insult me here in the very house of Cenzi? If so, you’re wasting your breath and we are done talking.”
Varina started to respond angrily, then stopped herself. She took a long, slow breath. “Look at me, Nico,” she said. “I’m an old woman. I don’t want this. I’m here because I cared about you when you were a child, and I still care about you. I don’t want you to be hurt. I don’t want the death and destruction that will come if the Kraljica hauls you and your people out of here by force. And she will do that, Nico. She’s determined that she must do this, and unless you surrender yourself, that’s what will happen. Is that what you want? Do you want your followers here to die?”
Nico laughed again, hearty and rich, so loud that the others in the main portion of the temple glanced their way. Liana smiled with him. “That’s all you have, Varina?-to appeal to fear, to play on my sympathy? Do you think me that naive? I have been charged by Cenzi to do this-perhaps you can’t understand what that means, but because of that charge, I have no choice. No choice at all. I do His bidding; I am His vehicle. This is not my action nor my battle. If the Kraljica and the Archigos wish to defy Cenzi, then it will be their own souls and everlasting salvation that they risk, and the same for those who support them. Each of you out there is damned, Varina. Damned. You want me to surrender? That won’t happen. Rather, let me give you this task: go to your Kraljica, who coddles you and your heresy. Tell her that, instead, I demand her surrender. Tell her that otherwise she risks the destruction of everything she has built. Tell her that she will find that Cenzi will send fire and flame to assault her, that those she commands will tremble and quake with fear, that they will run in terror from what awaits them. Tell her that. ”
As he spoke, Nico’s voice also rose in power and volume. Varina had to force herself not to step back from him, as if his very words might catch fire and ignite her. She could not deny the power he had; she could feel the cold rage of the Scath Cumhacht surrounding her-what he would call the Ilmodo-and she realized that she had lost here, that he was beyond any poor capability she had to convince him. The sparkwheel sagged heavily on the belt under her cloak, and she realized that she had no choice. No choice. Her own life didn’t matter. But Nico was the heart and the will of the Morelli sect, and if he were gone, the body would collapse.
She took out the sparkwheel. She pointed it at his chest, her hand trembling. He glanced at it, contemptuously. “What is this?” he asked. “Some foolish Numetodo thing?”
She could not hesitate-if she did, he would call up a spell and the moment would be over. Sobbing at what she was doing, weeping because she was about to kill someone both she and Karl had loved, she pressed the trigger. The wheel spun, sparks flared.
But there was only a hiss and sputter from the black sand in the pan, and she saw with despair the dampness beaded on the metal. She dropped the sparkwheel; it clattered on the marble tiles of the floor.
Liana laughed, but Varina could feel Nico studying her face. “I’m sorry,” he said to her. “It should never have come to this between us. I’m sorry,” he repeated, and it was the voice of the boy she remembered. Nico turned; he unbarred the door and opened it: outside, the wind threw rain across the plaza and black clouds rolled overhead. “Go, Varina,” he said. “Go for the sake of our old friendship. Go and tell the Kraljica that if she wants battle, she shall have it-and the blame will be on her head.”
Varina was staring at her hand, at the sparkwheel on the floor. Stiffly, she bent down and picked it up again, placing it back on her belt. She took a step toward Nico, and she hugged him. “At least let Liana come with me, for the sake of the child she carries. I’ll keep her safe.”
“No.” The answer came from Liana. “I stay here, with Nico.”
Nico smiled at her and his arm went around her again. “I’m sorry, Varina. You have your answer.
“I’m sorry, too,” Varina told him, told both of them.
She nodded once to Liana, and went out into the storm, drawing her hood over her face.
Jan ca’Ostheim
The storm shook the tents like a dog worrying at a stubborn bone. Canvas boomed and rattled above Jan so fiercely that everyone glanced up. “Don’t worry,” he told Brie. “I’ve been out in worse.”
“I know it’s silly, but I worry that this storm’s an omen,” Brie answered, and Jan laughed, drawing her close and embracing her.
“The weather is just the weather,” he told her. “It means that crops will grow and the rivers will run fast and clean. It means that the men will grumble and curse and the roads will be a muddy ruin. But that’s all. I promise.” He kissed her forehead. “Paulus and the staff will escort you back to Stag Fall,” he told her.
“I’m not going to Stag Fall and Brezno. I’m going with you.”
He was already shaking his head before she had finished. “No. We have no idea how serious a threat we’re facing at Nessantico. I won’t have our children orphaned. You’re staying with them.”
“They’re my children as well,” Brie persisted. “And I will have to answer to them when they’re older. If you were to die, they’d want to know why I was so cowardly as to stay behind.”
“You didn’t go with me when we put down the rebellion in West Magyaria,” he countered, though he knew immediately the answer to that. It came as swiftly as he expected.
“I had just given birth to Eria then. Or I would have. Besides, Jan, you need me to be between you and your matarh. The two of you.. .” She shook her head. “It won’t be a pretty sight, and you’re going to need a mediator.”
“I can handle my matarh.” He grasped her shoulders, holding her gaze. “Brie, I love you. That’s why I can’t have you there. If you’re there, I’ll be too worried about you.”
He saw her soften at that, though she was still shaking her head. She wanted to believe him. And it was true, at least part of it. He did love her: a quiet love, not the burning intensity he’d once felt for Elissa, not even the lust that arose with the lovers he’d taken. He hurried into the opening. “Give Elissa, Kriege, Caelor, and little Eria kisses for me, and tell them that their vatarh will be back soon, and not to worry.”
“Kriege will want to come after you,” Brie told him, “and so will Elissa.”
He knew then that he’d won the argument. He laughed, pulling her close. “There’s time enough for that,” he said, “and given the way of things, there will probably be ample opportunity as well. Tell them to be patient, and to study hard with the arms master.”
“I’ll do that, and I’ll be waiting for you as well,” she answered.
She rose on her toes and kissed him suddenly. Since Rhianna’s sudden departure, since it had become obvious that it was unlikely that the young woman would be found, Brie had been far more affectionate toward him. He’d said nothing to her about what the girl had stolen-though he suspected that Brie knew. He had especially not told Brie about Rhianna’s shocking, unbelievable last words. He was still reeling from them, though he’d made every effort to pretend otherwise. “I’m your daughter. Elissa’s daughter. The White Stone’s daughter.”
He wanted to shout his denial of that to the world, yet he found that the words stuck in his throat like a burr on the hem of his bashta. You found Rhianna attractive because she reminded you of Elissa-the Elissa you remembered… Was it possible? Could she be his daughter? Could she, or could Elissa, have been responsible for Rance’s death?
Yes… The word kept surfacing in his mind.
When this war was over, he told himself, he would find her again. He would put a thousand men on her trail, he would track her down, he would have them bring her to him, and he would discover the truth.
And if she is your and Elissa’s daughter? There was no answer to that question.
So Jan smiled at Brie and pretended that there was nothing between them, as Brie pretended the same, as
