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“Let the negotiations begin.”
Cassia was the first to signal she wished to speak. Her other hand shook a little as she smoothed her notes before her.
“Lady Cassia,” Lio responded, “the Circle hears you.”
“Thank you, Ambassador. I have taken the liberty of drawing up a list of terms gleaned from careful consultation with each member of our embassy. It is my hope that these recommendations address the needs and concerns of all Tenebrans regarding the Hesperine presence in our lands. I would like to present what I judge to be an accurate representation of my people’s wishes for relations with yours, then invite my fellow Tenebran ambassadors to add to or revise what I have said on their behalf.”
The nods and “ayes” among the Tenebrans gave the Circle a rough head count of who was still on Cassia’s side. Wary or indignant auras warned of the hard cases who would need to hear compelling arguments if they were to rally to her banner rather than the mage’s torch. The embassy was deeply divided. But not lost.
“We thank you for your devoted efforts,” said Lio, “and we look forward to hearing your terms. You have the floor, Lady Cassia.”
Lio listened to her draw breath to speak and awaited her voice, which would announce their final charge. The voice that cried out when he loved her and whispered words that brought down fortresses. In that little breath, he could hear their promise to win her fight.
Behind Lio, metal clanged on metal. Had he been mortal, he would have jumped. But he turned smoothly with Hesperine composure to look at Chrysanthos, who sat with his hand out, having announced his intention to speak with a blow of his rings against the table before him.
The mage did not wait for Lio to acknowledge him. “Allow me to present my temple’s terms.”
Lio bowed. “We are glad such an esteemed colleague from the Sun Temple at Solorum will do us the honor of participating, and we look forward to a mage of Anthros lending his voice to the cause of peace. Would you be so kind as the take the floor once the king’s representative has made her presentation?”
Chrysanthos laughed. He reached into an inner pocket of his robes, and Lio tensed. The Dexion withdrew a scroll whose worn appearance bore witness that it had spent the entirety of the Summit on Chrysanthos’s person.
“Ambassador, let us not waste the Firstblood Circle’s time. The hour has come when Orthros must hear Lucis Basileus’s real terms, which he has empowered me to state, and I assure you, you want to hear them right away. It is an irony of immortal existence, is it not? Mortals can still wield time against you. There is very little time left for the Hesperine prisoners whose fate I have come here to negotiate.”
The shock that went through the Blood Union rocked Lio’s power to his foundations. So this was what Chrysanthos had been plotting all along. How long? If his words were true, how many weeks had these Hesperines languished while the Solstice Summit sailed slowly onward, as if time were a luxury?
It didn’t matter. Lio did not have a moment to waste reassessing his decisions or entertaining what-ifs. All that mattered was that he was on the stand, which made him the Hesperine hostages’ first line of defense.
Lio demanded of the mage, “Explain yourself. Who are these prisoners you claim to know of and what proof can you offer us that you speak the truth?”
Chrysanthos eased his chair back, then got leisurely to his feet. “First, know that if I do not return from Orthros safely, it will be a death sentence for the seven Hesperines errant who are in custody. Second, know that my colleagues are holding the prisoners in a location unknown to me, so any attempt to extract that information from me will be fruitless. These points are what should inform every step you take from this moment forward. I urge you not to do anything reckless.”
“Say what you will about the threat of time,” Lio warned, “but we are eternal. No one considers their responses more carefully than Hesperines, but once we do respond, beware the decision behind which the full power of Orthros is brought to bear.”
Four figures neared the mages’ seats. The entire Stand mustered around Chrysanthos, their silent approach a louder warning than any stunts of magic. Aunt Lyta, Kadi, Mak, and Lyros stood in formation, clearly ready for anything. From the direction of his own bloodline’s seats, Lio sensed his father ready his power.
Chrysanthos did not glance at them. “For an ambassador who was so recently a mere initiate, you do not disappoint. The elder firstbloods’ power and teachings run strong in you. I cannot tell you how I have looked forward to this debate. Count yourself fortunate to be Hespera’s instrument in this, Orthros’s first and only negotiation with Cordium.”
Hot, acrid power burned into Lio’s senses, and the floor of the amphitheater shook beneath his feet. Through the ward the Stand had already raised around Chrysanthos, Lio saw the mage’s face contort in either agony or ecstasy.
But no wall of fire rolled out to consume them. The tremors of power rocked only through the mage, one blow after another to Hesperine senses, each one breaking open the man’s aura until the full power of an Aithourian war mage blazed before everyone.
Chrysanthos was more adroit than Dalos. Neither his face nor his voice had given any forewarning. But Lio had no doubt he had just witnessed the same perverse magical process that Dalos had enacted at the Equinox Summit. Chrysanthos had just reclaimed his full power, rendering Tychon unconscious in his seat and, no doubt, leaving the helpless vessel back in Tenebra dead.
Lio showed his fangs. “We wondered if you would find the courage to identify yourself to us. This debate will be more fruitful now that we do not have to pretend we did not know you are Chrysanthos, Dexion of the Aithourian Circle.”
Chrysanthos panted, his eyes glazed and dilated, his hair plastered to his brow with sweat. “My clever enemy. Too devious to let me catch you unawares.”
“What now, Dexion?” Lio asked. “Will a mage of your circle once more sabotage the Tenebrans’ negotiations of their own affairs? Not with an assassination, this time, but with hostages?”
“We cannot stand for this!” Cassia cried at Lio’s back. “My fellow Tenebrans, will you let a foreigner decide our fates? Will we let another mage like Dalos make us kindling for the pyre to which Cordium wishes to consign the Hesperines?”
The entire Tenebran embassy was in a tumult, but Chrysanthos raised his voice above theirs. “If you care at all about your own fates, you will be silent. I doubt our hosts will take kindly to you if we cannot reach a resolution about the Hesperine prisoners. I am certain my Order will not take kindly to you if you interfere. I am not only your king’s ambassador, but also the appointed agent of the Akron himself.”
Lio held out a hand to indicate the lords. “We hold no Tenebrans accountable for Cordium’s crimes. The Tenebrans we invited here are perfectly safe. I cannot say the same for the Cordians who usurped Tenebran mages’ rightful places among the embassy.”
“If you care at all about the prisoners’ fates,” Chrysanthos reminded him, “you will be silent and hear me.”
“You have yet to offer evidence this is more than a mere bluff. Never in the history of conflict between Anthros and Hespera has the god of war found the patience to keep prisoners. We must have proof if you expect us to believe your circle has managed to resist their insatiable thirst for offering sacrifices on the Akron’s Altar.”
