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“She’s something more than Breed,” another voice muttered. “Just look at her.”
“Yes,” Zael said. “Look at her. Thank her, because Brynne just helped save this colony today. If not for her, Elyon would already be standing in front of Selene handing over this crystal.”
Baramael eyed him warily. “What are you talking about?”
“Elyon killed Nethilos. I found them both up here, but I was too late to save him.” His glance drifted to the carnage near his feet. His bile rose at the sight of his friend’s brutalized body. He felt only disgust when he looked at the sentry who had betrayed him. Betrayed everyone in the colony. “Elyon had been plotting to leave the colony and return to the realm with the crystal. The prospect of an alliance with the Order would have ruined all of his plans.”
Vaenor grunted. “A convenient explanation when Zael is holding the crystal and the only other two witnesses are dead at his feet.”
Rumblings of agreement—of suspicion and doubt for both Zael and Brynne—traveled the crowd.
“It’s all true.” Tamisia stepped through the gathered throng. “Everything Zael just said is the truth.”
The other elders who stood at the front gaped at her in disbelief.
“What is this about?” Baramael demanded.
Tamisia recounted what she had told Zael about Elyon—how he’d been obsessed for some time with defecting and had been attempting to coerce her into going with him. She explained how she had grown wary of him, but that she hadn’t realized he would be willing to kill, nor had she ever dreamed he might attempt to steal the colony’s crystal for his own gain.
The other elders and the rest of the assembled crowd gaped at her. Soon the animosity and mistrust that had been focused on Zael and Brynne began to shift to Tamisia.
Baramael’s bicolored eyes flared with disapproval. “You’ve known of Elyon’s disloyalty to the colony, yet never told anyone?”
“I was afraid of him,” she murmured quietly.
“Your fear cost Nethilos his life,” Haroth, the other male elder sharply reminded her. The black Atlantean raked a big hand over his short mohawk. “This cannot stand, Tamisia.”
“I know.” She nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
Baramael nodded grimly to the sentries, and they slowly began to guide the spectators out of the chamber. When it was just the elders remaining, he stepped up to Tamisia. “Your actions killed a good man, a friend to us all. That is a loss we can never repair. However, if not for Zael and Brynne stopping Elyon, your silence could have jeopardized this entire colony one day. You leave us no choice but to banish you, Sia.”
A sob choked out of her. “Nethilos was my friend too. I don’t expect any of you to ever forgive me. I know I will never forgive myself.”
“At least we still have the crystal,” one of the female elders gently pointed out. “At least Elyon was thwarted in his betrayal of us.”
Zael nodded, agreeing in sober contemplation. “And you still have the alliance. If the colony wants it.”
From within Haroth’s dark-skinned face, his pale green eyes flicked from Brynne to Zael. “None of this changes the council’s condition on the alliance with the Order. What Brynne did here today is admirable—we are all in her debt—but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s Breed.”
Baramael nodded. “If anything, seeing the devotion you share for each other only fortifies the council’s concern that unless the colony has a permanent advocate in this alliance, the odds may always swing in favor of the Order.”
Zael inclined his head in understanding, even if it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He hadn’t expected the council to reverse their decision.
Hell, if he were one of the elected elders responsible for the security and governing of the colony, he’d make the same demand.
“Come,” Baramael said solemnly. “We can talk more later. Right now, we need to see to our fallen friend and this council needs to offer comfort to his widow and child.”
CHAPTER 36
They buried Nethilos at sundown, on the island’s highest hill.
Brynne had stood beside Zael and offered her condolences to Diandra and Neriah, both of whom were despondent over the loss of the good and gentle man who’d been so beloved to all in the colony, but especially to his family.
