Now I know.
“The Anguis abandoned you, didn’t they. At the Iudicium.” It’s what Callidus said. That the man had been angry about being left behind.
A shake of the head. “I got … separated. Accident. Only had the tracking stone for … Catenicus. Knew they wouldn’t leave without … killing him.”
Beside me, Emissa frowns, but I ignore her. “But he wasn’t there.”
“He … was there.” He gasps it. Barely a whisper. “I … made him pay … for Melior.”
I stare for several seconds. Heart lurching. “The boy you …” Breath short. “The boy you tortured. Didn’t he tell you that he wasn’t Catenicus?”
“No. Admitted he … was.”
Oh, gods. Callidus. Gods-damned, courageous idiot.
To my side, Emissa’s expression twists in horror as she understands. Understands what happened and understands who this is as she puts a supporting hand on my arm. Eyes soft and sad. She didn’t know.
My vision swims and I turn away, just breathing, until I’m sure I can keep the welling tears from coalescing.
“How did you sneak onto Solivagus?” My voice shakes a little. It’s the anger, now, more than grief and more than the shock of speaking to a dead man. But I need to move on from that line of questioning. It will lead only to pain. And this isn’t an opportunity that will come again.
“Got close on a … ship. Big one. Will powered. Strange looking, modified. Obelisk instead … of a mast.” He groans and coughs, the rattling rasp echoing through the room. “They flew us over the … Seawall on platforms.”
I paste on a frown for Emissa’s sake, though it’s not too far from my guesses given the pieces I already had. TheNavisalus. Relucia and her contact discussing using a ship as an anchoring point. I have no idea how the Seawall itself works, but from our dissection of Transvect mechanics under Praeceptor Scitus, I know that what Antonius is describing is possible. It’s how his comrades managed to escape, too, I imagine.
“What was the name of the ship?”
“Painted over.”
“Where did you leave from?”
“Thuaidh Island.”
I grunt. In the Sea of Quus, northern coast of Tensia. Uninhabited. “How did the Anguis get the resources to make something like this happen?”
His lip curls. Teeth blackened with flecks of dried blood. “Caten. Senators.” Some latent glee, even through the pain. “Your people.”
I’m silent. Visibly tense, reacting with carefully crafted shock and anger to the answer I knew he would give. Then, “What? No. You’re lying.”
“He’s not,” Emissa says quietly.
I let my fists clench and unclench. Pretend for Emissa’s benefit to a slowly dawning, confused fury. “Who, then? Which senators?” I growl.
He shakes his head. “Only … know we had help. Things I overheard. Rumours. We joked about it. The Hierarchy … killing its own.” He laughs. A choking, awful sound.
I don’t have to fake my anger at his reaction, this time.
I ask a few more rapid questions after that, the ones Emissa would expect of me, though I already know the result. Can he identify any other Anguis? He says he was newly recruited and that none of them knew one another’s true identities. Does he know of any Anguis hideouts? He gives the location of three, which I can only assume Military has long since raided. Did he see or overhear anything else that might be useful? He gives a series of observations that I assume have already been followed up. Probably leading initially to small victories that lend credence to his words, but after that, nowhere.
This was perfectly executed by the Anguis. No way to suggest that he’s trying to misinform. Enough information to leave no doubt about senatorial involvement, but not enough to point the finger at any one person or group.
“Almost time,” murmurs Emissa suddenly.
Antonius hears and something in him changes. His broken, scarred body tensing, trembling. Eyes roaming the room desperately before coming back to rest on me.
“Please,” he whispers. “Please.”
Behind us I hear motion at the door. A grinding as it starts to slide away. I don’t look away from him. Meet his gaze. The horror of this place, what is being done here, washing over me. The anguish of knowing that even in his last moments, Callidus protected me when I could not do the same for him. I’ve held it at bay these past ten minutes, but only just. Only just.
