Gráinne smiles across at her father, who pretends not to have seen. I give him a deep nod. Show him how much I appreciate him saying so.
And the small hut and surrounding fields start to feel like a home, in a way that nowhere in the Hierarchy ever did.
The rest of them sleep not long after dark, little to light the nights. In those silent times, my thoughts often turn to what I’ve left behind. To Emissa, to Callidus and Eidhin. I’ve surely been declared dead, by this point. I wonder who won the Iudicium. What the consequences of my disappearance might have been. I grieve for the loss of my friends, and the pain my apparent demise would have caused them.
But as time passes, I dwell on them less. Not because I do not miss them—I do. But because they belong to another life, now.
I lose track of the days. My body becomes lean again: not in the same way it was at the Academy, perhaps, but strong and balanced and as whole as it can be. One evening I tell a joke, and Onchú laughs so hard that broth dribbles from his nose. He asks me to help him in the fields the day after, and I do. Hard, physicalwork, especially with one arm, but I feel more useful than I have in weeks. We travel into town together that night, despite some lingering reservations on my part, and he introduces me to a friendly community of mead-loving farmers. We drink together at the tavern. The night ends in a blur of rowdy songs and the promise of matching headaches in the morning.
The next day, the druid arrives.
XIV
MY FORMER LIFE IN LETENS FEELS IMPOSSIBLY DISTANT,here in Caten. Ulciscor’s appearance in it an eon ago rather than the year and a half it’s actually been. But as I deposit my imbued access seal through the outer chute of East Caten Prison, then exchange pale blue sky for the gloom of its guard room—so similar to the one in which I spent hours with old, grizzled Hrolf—it all comes flooding back. The featureless stone walls. The grim quiet. The secondary locked door that I know leads down into a pit of human misery that too few in the Hierarchy truly know about, and too many experience for themselves.
“Charming,” murmurs Relucia too loudly as she walks in beside me. Ulciscor’s dark-haired wife adjusts her blue silk stola, looking entirely out of place. Just the right amount of displeased and uncomfortable for a snobbish patrician, though I have no doubt she somehow orchestrated Ulciscor’s message for me to meet her here this morning. At least, with me restricted to Governance-guarded quarters since being whisked away from the Aurora Columnae, this is the first time I’ve had to worry about her in almost a week.
One of the two guards rises. A woman approaching forty, lanky and lean. A veteran, I’d say, from the hardness in her eyes and the stiff-but-assured movements that speak of an old injury. I wonder what mistake she made, getting assigned a job like this.
“Who are you here to …” The dusty-blonde woman trails off as she sees the space where my arm should be, previously hidden by my cloak. Stops. “You’re Catenicus.”
“And this is my mother, Sextus Relucia Telimus. As our paperwork says.” I take the lead, Relucia content to stand in the background and smile blithely. My calm response belying the enormous capital Ulciscor must surely have expended to get us this access, and keep it quiet. “I assume everything is in order, Septimus?”
The guard’s mouth twists and she exchanges a look with her counterpart before checking our documents more thoroughly, but they’re impeccable and the access seal impossible to argue with. “My apologies, Catenicus. Who are you here to see?” She knows the answer already.
“Lanistia Scipio.”
“North 122. First floor.” Doesn’t need to check her logs. “Marcus will show you the way.”
“That won’t be necessary. My mother will accompany me as a Military observer. We’re only here to talk,” I add sincerely.
The guard’s frown says she doesn’t believe me. Why would she? The rumours are already flooding Caten. Lanistia, the woman who tried to assassinate me. A Military Sextus aiming to kill the Domitor of the Academy after he defected to Governance. No matter that it was extraordinarily public. No matter that it made no sense to do it that way, if that was her intent. No matter that I have already emphasised to everyone who will listen that I don’t believe it was anything to do with politics. The tension between the three senatorial factions in the city was already thick. Now it is close to exploding.
But the guard is just a guard, too. A Septimus who knows she doesn’t have the means or authority to stop Relucia, even if she thought she could stop me. “The way is signposted. Please knock when you return.” She unlocks the inner door.
I take the lantern she offers, and we start down the stairwell.
“Well that was easy.” Relucia loses her vacuous demeanour the moment the door closes behind us. It’s frightening how quickly she can turn it on and off. “Familiar surrounds, Diago?”
I don’t respond. The name sending a shiver of panic through me, utterly alone in here though we are. She’s right, though. My past echoes off these walls.
Seeing she’s not going to get a rise out of me, the young woman smiles. “Come, now. Don’t be so taciturn; I’ve been dying to talk to you since the Aurora Columnae. Any idea why Lanistia attacked you like that?”
“Wouldn’t be here if I did.” I glance at her. “Do you?” A suspicion I couldn’t help but have, given the consequences, however unlikely Anguis involvement seemed.
“No.”
I nod, careful to keep my expression smooth. I told Lanistia and Ulciscor all about the Labyrinth on the way to the Aurora Columnae, including what the dead men and women kept telling me as they chased me from it.Complete the journey, warrior. Relucia, as far as I know, is unaware of that part of my time in the Iudicium. I want to keep it that way. “Is that why you convinced Ulciscor to send you?”
“It didn’t take much convincing. People are already angry about her not being in a Sapper; if he comes to visit, it looks even more like she’s getting preferential treatment. No. I’ll admit to some curiosity, but the fact is, this might be the only opportunity we have to speak for a while.”
No surprise there. Relucia showing up at the Aurora Columnae meant she wanted to make contact, and Governance’s protectiveness since has made private meetings a lot harder. “How upsetting. What do you need me to do?”
Relucia rolls her eyes. “Not me; I’m needed elsewhere for a while. Someone else from the Anguis will be in contact. Tall man. Thin. He has a scar along here.” She traces a line with her finger from her forehead to her chin.
I trail my fingers along the damp stone wall. “So you’ve come out of your way to tell me that someone else will be telling me what to do?” I’m playing for time; I recognise the description immediately. I saw him with Relucia at the Festival of Pletuna, spoke to him at the Iudicium. He’s the one who’s able to somehow transport himself through space.
“Despite how naturally trusting I know you to be? Yes.”
