Ashes of Candesce: Book Five of Virga

A rustle of sound reached them from the throng of people that had spread in tendrils and knots through the gardens below. At the far end of the space was a broad square paved in glittering pallasite, and attendants were just in the process of clearing away the breakfast tables they had placed there. Others were making final adjustments to the placement of row after row of chairs for the delegates attending this, the colloquy's opening ceremony.

Someone appeared at Keir's shoulder; it was Leal. Her fingers found his hand. On the other side of Griffin, the admiral stepped up, the Guardsman next to him. On the end, still glancing up at Fanning, came Antaea Argyre.

The honor guard had retreated. They were alone at the top of the stairs.

Keir snuck a look at Chaison Fanning, too. His face was impassive, but Keir knew that the absence of his wife must be eating at his heart, especially on this of all days.

'Eyes forward,' said Fanning. 'We've all sacrificed for this moment, let's do it proud.'

They walked together down the steps, under the gaze of a hundred nations.

* * *

CRICK, CRICK, CRICK. Leal was half- consciously twisting the pages of her speech, and she knew it was making a little noise, but she couldn't stop. Her mouth was dry and her knees felt weak, and if she could have turned and run from this stage, she would have.

The last of the delegates had just taken their seats. These were not people used to sitting in an audience; they had all been informed that there was no order to the seating--it was first come, first served. Some potentates of richer principalities looked indignant at ending up in the back.

The admiral stood with his hands behind his back, glaring them all into silence. He'd somehow draped himself with invisible Presence, and shortly, all eyes were on him.

He ignored the podium with its conical bullhorn, but instead walked to the edge of the stage.

'Thank you all for coming. And thanks to the government and people of Aerie for providing us with this glorious space in which to discuss the future of Virga.' He ran through some more verbal salves, but was mercifully brief. His whole demeanor was that of a military commander at a briefing, and Leal supposed that was quite deliberate.

'The plan was to have my wife address the opening ceremonies,' said Fanning--and suddenly Leal forgot her anxiety as he continued, 'but she has gone missing somewhere in the airs of Virga.'

There was a moment of shocked silence--not because those in the audience hadn't been hearing this rumor, but that this upstart admiral should admit it right now, right here. Fanning certainly had their undivided attention.

'Whether she is merely delayed or whether something has ... happened to her,' Fanning continued, 'I want to make it plain that it changes nothing. Our goals for this conference remain the same as they were described in the briefs you all received before coming here. I will not use this venue to advance a personal agenda of rescue or revenge. However,' he added as muttering broke out among the delegates, 'in the interests of trust, I am prepared to step down as chair of these proceedings, if the consensus among you is that my objectivity has been compromised.'

The delegate from Tracoune stood up. 'Is it true about the hostages?' The muttering became a boil of conversation.

Fanning held up his hand. 'We'll get to that shortly,' he promised. 'But I must insist on a vote on this matter. We can't proceed if you don't trust me to perform my duties dispassionately.'

'Dispassionately?' One of a small group in drab gray suits had stood up. 'You ambushed and destroyed the People's Fleet of Falcon Formation while it was on maneuvers! Without provocation!'

'You paid Mavery to stage a provocative raid on Slipstream in order to draw away their fleet!' roared a prince of Eidon. 'Maneuvers? Your fleet was loaded with soldiers! I know, because half their bodies floated into our airspace afterwards, and you were too embarrassed to repatriate them. We had to pay to incinerate them in Candesce ourselves!'

'And when the Gretels invaded Falcon, he defended one of your cities, even after you'd held him in prison for a hundred days!' This from the premier of Malagan himself.

The few delegates of the ancient principalities of Candesce who'd bothered to come to the colloquy looked entertained. The promise of such provincial political theater was probably exactly why they'd showed up.

The whole Falcon Formation delegation stood up and prepared to walk out.

'Please,' said Fanning, but they were no longer listening.

Leal watched in horror as the audience began standing up, shouting at one another, heading for the paths, or just shaking their heads. Beside her, Antaea sat with her head in her hands, and even Keir, so normally unflappable these days, was sitting there with his mouth open.

Admiral Fanning's aura of command had evaporated. He stood there, shoulders slumped, a man lacking the one person in the world he needed to lean on.

Leal caught herself thinking that if she'd been here, Venera Fanning would have straightened this lot out in no time. What would she have done?

Leal could picture it with perfect clarity.

The pages of her speech slipped to the floor. As if from outside, she saw herself standing, walking to the leader of the ceremonial guardsmen at the side of the podium. 'Give me your sidearm,' she demanded, holding out her hand, palm up.

He goggled at her. 'I'm not going to hurt anyone,' she said. 'Do it!'

She gave him the stare she'd learned worked best on undergrads. He glanced at the chaos in the audience, and a little smile appeared on his lips. 'Do your best, ma'am,' he said as he handed it to her.

Leal stalked up to the podium, her eyes on the pistol as she worked out how to turn off its safety. She heard a sudden commotion behind her as the others on the stage saw what she was holding, but it was too late as she raised the pistol high over her head and pulled the trigger.