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THE APPLE
The night insects buzzed in Lio’s ears, as lulling as the lapping of the nearby river. The gloom of twilight felt too bright. He rubbed his face. “I wish Caravaner’s Milk worked on Hesperines.”
Tuura sighed. “I wish my tonics worked on you, too.”
“Where’s a good snake when you need it?” Karege waded through the reeds, looking for river serpents. “Nothing like snake blood to sharpen the mind.”
Mak tossed each of them a dark glass flask. “This potion from the Charge’s alchemists will help.”
“Drink up,” Lyros advised. “We need to be alert for a casting like this.”
Lio drained the concoction. It tasted vile, but sent a fizz of energy through him. While his Trial brothers had one more word with Tuura and Karege about their part of the spell, Eudias beckoned for Lio to join him and Ariadne under a tree.
Eudias looked tired, but alert. “We thought you might like a progress report on our research into betrothal laws.”
Ariadne smoothed her veil. “While Eudias has picked Master Gorgos’s brain—such as it is—I’ve been consulting with the Semna.”
Lio realized he had his hands behind his back again and let them fall at his sides. “Mage Ariadne…you have Cassia’s and my deepest gratitude for aiding us in this. But I do not expect it of you. Not after what happened.”
Her brow creased with puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
He didn’t want to prod her grief, but it needed to be said. “It would be wrong to ask you to save us, when I could not save your temple sister. I hope one day you can forgive me for what befell Pakhne. Until then, spare your efforts for yourself and for what she would want.”
A silence fell between the three of them. It was filled not with judgment, but the mages’ surprise.
“Ambassador…may I call you Lio?” Ariadne asked.
“Of course,” he replied to her unexpected question. “You may call me whatever you like.”
“Lio,” she said, “I don’t think you understand. You don’t need my forgiveness. Everyone who loves Pakhne should thank you for how you fought for her.”
“But I failed to save her.” Lio looked at Eudias, praying he would understand. “I did everything I could. But it wasn’t like our battle against him. I couldn’t reach her, couldn’t enlist her aid to fight alongside me.”
Eudias blinked at him. “What you managed to do for me is by far the exception, not the rule. I know what the Collector has done to the other people he has possessed. He showed me. I believe Pakhne was too far gone, and that no one could have prevented what happened to her. Did you really think we would blame you?”
“It would be perfectly understandable for you to blame me,” Lio said.
Ariadne took Eudias’s hand. “Of course not. You saved Eudias, and you fought for Pakhne. You have our gratitude.”
Lio swallowed. “I am honored to have a bond of gratitude with you two.”
Their opinions about that battle mattered more than anyone’s. And they were offering Lio something even more than forgiveness—gratitude.
And yet, no weight lifted from his soul. His own bitter guilt remained. What would it take to make him feel absolved of Pakhne’s fate?
“Let us help you and Cassia,” Ariadne said. “Or at least let us try.”
Lio nodded and smiled at her, if only for Cassia’s sake. “We’re thankful for your aid.”
“Well, I’m not sure thanks are warranted yet. Lord Flavian refuses to heed the Semna. The only way the Temple of Kyria could force him to relinquish Cassia is if she officially became a mage and took a vow of celibacy.”
“Well, that certainly won’t work,” Lio said.
“Unfortunately,” Ariadne went on, “there are very few situations where a woman can divorce her husband, such as if he brings his concubine into her house.”
Lio grimaced. “Ah, so he’s supposed to keep his myriad of other companions out of his wife’s sight.”
Ariadne sighed. “Yes, but that doesn’t help with a betrothal. Flavian could keep a troupe of dancing girls in his home for the duration of the betrothal, as long as he gets rid of them before the wedding day.”
