“Thank you, Typhon. That will be all.”
Typhon bows low and takes his leave, looking regretfully back at Ronan. I’m certain he’s telling the truth. Not only has he been a loyal friend to Larus, but he has also spent the last several years in Nithyria and would have been unlikely to know what Cyrus was up to.
“Did I go too far?” Ronan asks once it’s just us and Taran in the room, his voice raw, fraying at the seams.
“No,” I say with certainty. “No, you did exactly the right thing. He lied to you, repeatedly. Whatever his motivations, he has shown he can’t be trusted. I realize that probably sounds somewhat ironic coming from me.”
“You came clean,” says Taran.
“If Cyrus had come to me like you did, it would have been a different conversation. But to find out like this? I have no idea if I can believe a word that he says. For all I know, all of that was a lie manufactured on the spot to save his skin.”
“Doyou believe him?” I ask. “Do you think he really tried to stop Zara’s research?”
Ronan shakes his head somberly. “No. It’s hard to say because he’s such a difficult man to read, but if I had to guess from his feelings, I’d say that he supported it. Encouraged it, even. The part about the list of relics seemed true enough, though.”
“The torch, Ronan.”
He nods. “I thought the same thing.”
But even if the torch is one of those relics, what are we going to do with it? None of us know anything about alchemy. None of us really understand magic.
“We have to go back to the Guild,” I realize. “Cyrus said Zara kept a copy of the apocrypha there, and maybe she found some of those other relics too.”
“Fuck,” says Ronan, clutching his head in his hands. “There’s so much going on. Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. We’vegot to get through the next few days. Hopefully Seth’s plans work, and Adria is forced to withdraw, buying us a few months. We’ll still be blockaded, but if we can direct trade through Minar, we should be able to make it. Then we use that time to find allies, raise more legions, and, if I can find someone I can trust in the Guild to do it ethically, continue Zara’s research. Hell, maybe it’ll give us an answer to the ash problem, because according to Zara, that’s still going to be there after the war is over. And even if it can’t, I’d still like to know what’s going on with us, Sylvie. Even if we can’t use whatever is happening with our magic in the war, I’d like to understand it.”
“Agreed.”
“Oh, and I suppose somewhere in there, I need to put Cyrus on trial. But if I expose the sacrilege, the church is going to demand a halt to the research.”
“Ronan, the palimpsest said that being shadowbound was sacrilegious in itself.”
“Godsdammit, you’re right. Alright, so we can’t let the church knowanyof it, which means Cyrus can’t be put on trial because the temples have representation on the jury panels. So what do I do? Just keep him locked in his chambers until we’ve gotten everything we need?”
Taran and I shrug at each other.
“I can’t ask the other Viziers…in fact, I should probably question them to make sure he was working alone.” He leans back in his chair and covers his face with his hands, groaning. “Maybe we should just open the gates and let Adria in.”
“Don’t say that.” I grab his hand. “I know this is difficult, but we’ll figure it out. One day at a time.”
“Thank you for supporting me. Thank you both. Oh, and I suppose I need to find a way to earn Quinn’s forgiveness.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Three,” says Taran quietly.
“What did you do to her?” asks Ronan.
“I forbid her from seeing Seth. She showed up at his chambers, drunk. I didn’t imagine it would have gone well.”
“You did the right thing.No oneshould be seeing Seth. He’s insane.” I give Taran a meaningful glance.You’re better than him.
“Yes, I told her as much.”
“But she accused you of wanting to keep him to yourself,” says Ronan. His lips quirk into a smile in spite of everything. “Were you?”
“No, sir. Just doing my job.” Taran’s face gives nothing away. I find myself wishing I could sense his feelings at the moment. In part because I’m nosy, but mostly so I can beg him to run screaming in the other direction from my brother.
“Of course,” says Ronan with a wink. “Carry on.”
