But, to her relief, Lijjen was intent on the improbable fact that four men in their early twenties had incapacitated her twenty Seekers in seconds, before abducting her.
The Keeper stayed silent, likely waiting for her to speak. Sometimes she played along and allowed herself to look vulnerable and foolish in the hopes Lijjen believed she’d revealed everything. Unlikely, but she needed something to hope for.
Lijjen broke his silence. “If you respected this career, you’d know why you were here. The Seeker custodianship is a lifestyle, not a job. Your mind and heart are elsewhere, and I am tasked with holding you to account, on an almost daily basis, to the myriad disgraces you have brought upon Polis Sumad and Armer!”
He punctuated his words with hard taps on his polished desk. This sort of dressing-down was usually reserved for those of Assistant or Missionary rank, not Head Seekers. Was he implying she deserved demotion, or had he run out of good reasons to chew her out? Seekers failed cadver takings often enough, and although frustrating, it wasn’t shameful.
And he still hadn’t said what she’d done wrong!
“You’ve made Sumad Reach a laughing-stock with your failed taking.”
Nonsense.
Of course, he wouldn’t believe a word he’d said. Instead she was supposed to believe, or at least pretend she did. She’d been isolated and almost forbidden to speak to her own home complement and had begun questioning her own memories of the failed taking. No one could endure these accusations and humiliations for three months running without questioning themselves. Taken on its own, this morning’s harangue was a laughable farce. But constant badgering over days, weeks and months had worn her down. She did doubt herself more than ever. She was making more mistakes now than she usually did, both in written reports and field work. Or was she imagining that?
What did the accursed man want to know, if he wasn’t interested in the Chamber?
“Your complement are lax in discipline and lacking ability,” he snarled. “Problems follow your every step and your attitude is disrespectful and ungracious.” He paused to gather his breath, his dark skin flushed from his tirade. “And your explanation of your escape from your quarry makes no sense.”
Lijjen hadn’t blinked yet. Snakes didn’t blink either.
“What did they want, Saarg?”
“Like I said, sir, they wanted to know what had freed them and made the runes. When I didn’t know they told me to go.” The indisputable fact the renegades were not of the Darkness was too ludicrous to be believed, and skittered too close to her involvement with the Immersion Chamber.
A blank glare, then: “What do you want, Saarg? Right now. Tell me.”
Her mouth dropped open. He’d never asked that before. Why now? Did he think her confused enough by now to make a fatal mistake?
There were so many answers. But there was no right answer for Head Saarg in this room, ever. So, she chose the truest thing.
“My daughter, sir. I want to pack and leave this instant and return home to her. It hurts to be away from her.”
Speaking the unvarnished truth after so long was cleansing. If her answer had surprised Lijjen, he gave no sign.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Such a brash statement speaks to your true nature. Your willingness to abandon your duty to the Gods for sentiment. To put your impetuous priorities above the wellbeing of Polis Sumad Himself.” Lijjen smiled for the first time in weeks. “I suspect you’re functioning at your best. One cannot expect Polis Armer’s bestial children to behave respectably, I understand. Such a basic, selfish wish displays the lack of restraint that brought about your ill-favored daughter. Typical of your origin, it is, however, unacceptable in Polis Sumad. Though still, within this office, you take pride in your moral failure and call it strength, excusing your loose morals and easily corrupted virtue, Saarg.”
Terese’s chest tightened and she took a long, slow breath. She wouldn’t react. She couldn’t!
Lijjen stopped for a quick sniff. “The Seeker tattoo on your back is all that separates you from public recognition of your disgrace. You’ve risen far above your competence. And only now, far from your enablers within Armer Stone Chapterhouse, do you finally receive the consequences of succumbing to your common urges.”
Her heart’s alarmed thumping spread through her body like wildfire. To her throat, unsteady legs and tingling hands. Her face burned. Unbidden, a wet streak betrayed her on her left cheek, then the right.
Lijjen hadn’t sunk to this level before. He’d stopped just short of accusing her of harlotry! And to bring Pella into this? She was no shame, but Terese’s greatest accomplishment and joy. Her best friend. A beautiful little girl, full of laughter and love. Yet to Lijjen, Pella was just another angle of attack in his ridiculous mission to break her!
Gods above, she was trembling. Probably visibly. Whether in rage or shame she couldn’t tell. Oh, to hit the man! To grab him by his straight, starched white collars and yell at him that sometimes precautions failed.
No…
“Yes, sir,” she croaked.
Another interminable wait. “What did you say, Saarg?”
A breath.
“I’m sorry, sir. For letting down Polis Sumad Himself and Polis Armer. And Sumad Reach Chapterhouse and Armer Stone Chapterhouse.”
Did Lijjen’s eyelid twitch? Had he realized he wouldn’t break her? There’d be no putting her on behavioral report for insubordination or ‘conduct unbecoming’. No restricting her to quarters. Not today. That artifact’s blinking red light couldn’t condemn her if she didn’t say anything wrong.
Was he disappointed he’d not pushed her over the edge?
And she still had no answer for why she’d been called into his office.
Lijjen nodded brusquely. “I should think so. And pull yourself together, girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“You will take two Missionaries into the borderlands of the Refugee Territories.”
She shook her
