Tristan nodded. “I’m not encouraging you to hide, but I see no reason to let them spy on you, either. The more we disrupt their attempts to control the situation, the more desperate they will be, and the more likely they’ll lash out in a way that gives the advantage to us.”
“I’m liking this part, but it’s a little passive for my taste.” Lyssa pointed at him. “What about your list? Have you seen anyone on it since coming here? Someone you’re suspicious of?”
“Of course.” Tristan shrugged. “Including some people I didn’t expect to be here. I spent most of my time watching your room the other night, so I haven’t had the opportunity to investigate further.”
“Who’s here?” Lyssa asked.
“The less you know, the better.”
She couldn’t complain about him holding back information when she was doing the same thing. He might even have sensed that.
“You can’t kill someone on Last Remnant without permission,” Lyssa replied. “Even if you’re Tristan St. James, I don’t think they’ll tolerate it, and if they lock you down, that gives our targets the advantage. You should try to capture and question them.”
“You need to remember that won’t and can’t are two distinct things,” Tristan said. “I’ll do what is necessary, not out of concern for revenge for your brother, but because it’ll protect the Society in the long-term. For now, I’d suggest you avail yourself of the pleasanter parts of Last Remnant. If our enemies are interested enough to spy on you, they’ll make a move when they think you’re not ready for them. Retreating to the least trafficked parts of the city might make them do it earlier.”
“What are you going to do?” Lyssa asked, not angry at the suggestion since she’d thought of it herself. “Do you just plan to follow me around and let them try to take me down, or are you going to check off more people on your list?”
Tristan smiled. “I think it’s best you don’t know. I won’t bias your decisions that way. Don’t assume I’m guarding you when you go out. Be prepared for anything.”
Lyssa gave him a defiant glare. “I might not be one of the greatest Eclipses of the last century, but I am still Hecate, the Night Goddess. I can take care of myself.”
“We’ll see if that’s true.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next afternoon, following tedious attempts to kill time wandering the city, Lyssa returned to her room to find a male servant standing rigidly inside like a statue. She reflexively went for her gun but stopped when the servant bowed his head.
“Don’t wait inside my room for me,” Lyssa snapped, keeping her hand near the gun. On an island filled with masks, it was hard to read people. “Understood? And who are you? You’re not Sumira. No one told me anything about another servant.”
“I apologize, Miss Corti,” he said. “I wouldn’t normally do this, but I received specific instructions to come here and deliver a message. I was told to do it right away and not to leave your room until I delivered it.”
“Who told you to deliver the message?” Lyssa asked, heading over to a chair and finally lowering her hand.
“Elder Nektarios,” he replied. “More accurately, I was given a message by a servant of Elder Nektarios.”
Lyssa froze in place. Nektarios Galanis wasn’t just another Elder. He was a member of the Tribunal. She’d never spoken to the man in her life, but that didn’t mean his influence hadn’t helped guide her every waking moment as a Sorceress.
The Tribunal might not be dictators, but their control of the laws and policies of the Illuminated Society meant every Sorcerer and Sorceress over the world felt their reach at some point. Wandering onto Last Remnant around the same time as Tristan St. James might have gotten her attention from the Tribunal rather than her enemies.
“What’s his message?” Lyssa asked, sighing. It didn’t have to be a problem. The Elder might want to help her, if only to solve the threat of the assassins.
The servant cleared his throat. “Lyssa Corti, bearer of the Night Goddess, is to immediately report to the Tribunal Chamber in the Heart of Remnant,” he recited. “You are to leave your pistols.”
Lyssa flicked her wrist at the door. “Okay, message received. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. For now, please leave me alone.”
The man bowed his head and departed. With his mask on, she couldn’t tell him from countless other male servants in the area, but there was something familiar about his voice—more the cadence. That was odd given he was speaking Lemurian, and she rarely spoke the language outside of ceremonies or visits to Last Remnant.
“It is inadvisable to visit the Elder without me,” Jofi said. “The enemy might seize upon the opportunity to attack you on your way.”
“They’d have to know I’m unarmed. It’s not like my holsters are super-obvious.”
“The enemy was able to corrupt an Eclipse,” Jofi replied. “Again, I think it’s best not to leave me.”
Lyssa didn’t want to leave him behind, but she also couldn’t explain to Jofi that the Elder was probably calling her to ask her about him. She’d hoped she’d be able to avoid a meeting like this, but she couldn’t say she was surprised, even if it’d come sooner than she wanted.
“It’s not on my list of favorite things to do, but unless I’m ready to accuse a Tribunal member of being corrupt, I can’t refuse unless I’m ready to go full rogue.” Lyssa looked around. “I’m going to have to stow you in a shard vault to be safe.” She surveyed the room before spotting the Lemurian script and sorcery sigils that made the vault sealable. “That works.”
Breaking into a shard vault would take a lot of effort and time. She also intended to give everyone a peek at her holsters
