CHAPTER 55

Michel squatted in the offshoot of a tunnel in the Landfall catacombs, watching the bobbing of lights pass just below him as hundreds of Yaret’s Household members streamed by. Cupbearers walked up and down the column, giving instructions in low, calm voices, paying special attention to the inevitable handful of people who gave in to panic in the damp, cramped darkness of the tunnels. Michel checked his pocket watch by the light of his own lantern. It was almost four o’clock in the morning.

It had taken them four whole days to plan the exodus—two for Michel to verify Tenik’s story and lay the groundwork for moving several hundred people into the tunnels, and another two days for Yaret to gather supplies, call in ranking Household members from the nearby army camps, and prepare his cupbearers for the job. As far as Michel knew, the whole thing had been airtight. Most of the Household didn’t even know they were running for it until they were awakened from their beds and told to descend into the catacombs.

Still, he couldn’t help the pervasive worry that something was going to go wrong. All it took was one spy to tip off Sedial to the flight. Michel scuffed the floor with the toe of his boot, trying to wrench his thoughts away from worry.

“I don’t think anyone recognized you,” he told Ichtracia.

She stood beside him, watching the political refugees with something between bemusement and irritation. “Nobody is even glancing this direction,” she answered. “I’m not going to hang around long enough for them to start wondering. Besides, you said that one of Yaret’s soldiers recognized me back at the park.”

“He’s been sworn to secrecy,” Michel promised. “Only three people in the Household know you’re in Landfall.”

“Three too many,” Ichtracia muttered, shaking her head. “Too late now, I suppose. How are you going to feed all these people?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.” The words might as well have been Michel’s, but they came from behind him. He stood up, nodding to Jiniel as she came up to stand between him and Ichtracia. “You’re insane,” she told him.

“I’m saving hundreds of people from the knife of a tyrant,” he replied.

“With resources that could be used by Palo.” The tone wasn’t argumentative, but it did contain a light rebuke. Jiniel didn’t agree with his decision, but they’d hashed out the plan over the last couple of days and decided that the benefits outweighed the costs. She seemed to realize whom she was standing beside and ducked her head at Ichtracia. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Yaret is no friend of mine.”

Michel held up a hand to forestall further discussion as two figures pulled themselves away from the passing group and headed up the tunnel toward them. Michel picked up his lantern, holding it above his head until he could see that it was just Yaret and Tenik. They nodded to him solemnly, gave Ichtracia a wary glance, and looked curiously at Jiniel.

“This is a friend of mine,” Michel said, gesturing to her. “The fewer names you know, the safer this whole process will be.”

“For you,” Tenik said. His expression was surly, his eyes red.

Michel gave him a worried glance. “Yes, for us.”

Yaret waved away his cupbearer’s concern. “What Tenik means to say,” he said, bowing to Jiniel, “is thank you. You’re saving a lot of people tonight.”

“At least for now,” Ichtracia reminded him. “Eventually, Sedial is going to figure out where you went and come looking for you.”

“Yes, but this gives us a head start on him.” Yaret sounded tired, but positive. “It gives us time to figure out how to get out of the city to unite with Etepali.”

Michel squeezed Tenik’s shoulder. “I’ll do what I can on that front. Smuggling so many people out of Landfall is going to be a measure more difficult than having you all walk into a tunnel. But with this chaos, you might just be able to do so.”

Tenik cast a dark look at his master. “They tried again tonight.”

“Tried what?” There was a note of despair in Tenik’s voice that worried Michel.

“Another assassin,” Tenik said. “A lone dragonman. Killed two of our cupbearers. Seventeen of our soldiers. I…” He fell silent, squeezing his eyes shut.

Michel made a silent “ah” with his mouth. No wonder Tenik was in a dark mood.

“One of the men who died protecting me,” Yaret said quietly, “was his cousin. They were very close.” Michel thought he saw a trace of guilt cross Yaret’s face, but he couldn’t have been sure in the lantern light. Yaret cleared his throat. “I have some information that you might find useful. As a way of thanking you.”

“Anything you can give us,” Jiniel said.

Yaret produced a bundle from his jacket and handed it to her. “We intercepted a number of dispatches just a few hours ago. They should have come to us, but they were sent to another Household. According to the dispatches, Lindet is giving Sedial’s forces a pit of a time. She’s pushed to within thirty miles of Landfall, but she’s strung herself out. Our generals are still confident they can win, but have asked Sedial for more troops. Lindet is a more capable commander than anyone expected.”

“That sounds about right,” Michel said. Lindet’s approach was a mixed blessing, depending on how he looked at it. She wasn’t an ally, not by a long shot, but she was keeping Sedial very distracted right now.

“The problem is,” Yaret went on, “most of the troops out fighting her belong to the Households on the purge list. Sedial is throwing them to the wolves and keeping his most loyal close to him. I’ve sent word to anyone affiliated with my Household to withdraw, and I know I’m not the only Household head to do so.”

“Let’s hope some of yours are able to get out of that quagmire,” Jiniel said. To Michel’s surprise, she sounded sincere. But then again, she’d always had a good grasp of nuance—knowing how to find allies among her enemies and when to forgive the latter. Michel wondered, if Lindet managed to win this thing, if Jiniel would be able to get any concessions out of her. Maybe. Lindet had always been good at making promises. Making her keep them was the difficult part.

“Any word on the violence in the city?” Michel asked, directing the question at both Jiniel and Yaret.

“Nothing on our end since nightfall,” Jiniel said. “There was a riot in Proctor, but it burned itself out before it could get too dangerous.”

Tenik spoke up. “Sedial is planning some kind of reprisal. We’ve been cut out of a lot of communication since that first assassination attempt, but we do know that he’s sending some of his best soldiers into the city.”

“That’s not something I wanted to hear,” Michel said, swearing softly.

“A show of force,” Yaret said. “Constant patrols, tightened curfews.” He rubbed his shoulders. “I’m worried what this means. Sedial doesn’t usually escalate until he’s ready to act.”

“He’s close,” Ichtracia said, a sneer on her lips. “He’s got the blood he needed to unlock the godstone. He has control of two of them. He might try to create a god with the power at his fingertips.”

“Will that work?” Yaret asked with a shudder. “I thought he needed the third.”

“Maybe.” Ichtracia shifted from one leg to the other nervously. She looked angry and uncertain. “Maybe not.”

A thought danced at the back of Michel’s mind—something that had been floating around his head ever since he first met Sedial. “Are we still pretending that Sedial isn’t just going to seize godhood for himself?” Tenik, Yaret, and Ichtracia all turned to Michel as if he’d just uttered the worst kind of blasphemy, staring at him with disbelief. He cautiously went on. “I don’t know how it works, to be fair. But from what I understand, this new god doesn’t just come out of nowhere. It’s an ascension of sorts, for an actual person.”

“It’ll be the emperor,” Yaret said confidently. “That was always the plan. Our emperor will become god, and have the power to hold us together…” He trailed off, looking at his two fellow Dynize. Tenik seemed even more glum than before. Ichtracia’s disbelief slowly turned to horror.

“He’s right,” she breathed. “Pit, why did none of us see this before?”

“No,” Yaret scoffed. “Not even Sedial would commit such a crime. He wants power, but to take the strength of the godstones for himself would be… I can’t even think of a word for it!” He rounded on Ichtracia. “You really think he’s capable of such a thing?”

She gave a reluctant nod. “He wants order. It’s his greatest desire. What better way to do it than with the power of a god?” Her face screwed up, and for a moment Michel thought she might vomit. “I agree with Michel. It’s something he would do.”

Yaret swore softly. Michel could see his thoughts moving quickly, his expression hardening with resolve. “I see. Tenik, I want you to send runners to our closest allies. Tell them we think that Sedial is planning on seizing the god gift for himself.”

“We don’t have any proof,” Tenik replied.

“It doesn’t matter. Did you see my face? If it looked anything like yours, it shows how mindless we’ve become.” He swore again. “None of us even considered the possibility, but once Michel spoke it aloud, it took very little to convince us of the truth of it. We know what kind of a man Sedial is. We’ve just denied it to ourselves. Go!”

Tenik gave Yaret a half bow and limped down the tunnel. Yaret slapped a fist against the wall and looked at Michel. The positive veneer that he’d worn a few minutes ago was gone and there was a deep sorrow in his eyes. “What ruin have I led my Household to?”

“No ruin yet,” Michel said, hoping that he sounded reassuring.

“Even if we escape… we can’t fight against a god.”

“He has to get that godhood first,” Ichtracia said, her lip curled.

“Who can stop him?” Yaret swayed slightly and waved off an offered hand. “I must see to my people. Thank you again, Michel. I would not have expected such a kindness from an ally, let alone…”

“A traitor?” Michel asked.

Yaret snorted. “That word will never be used to describe you again. Not in my Household. As far as I’m concerned, you are still Devin-Michel, a Yaret—if that title means anything when the week is through.” He nodded again and headed down the tunnel.

Michel watched him go, worried. His suggestion that Sedial would seize the power of the godstones for himself had been halfway to a joke—he had assumed everyone thought the same thing. He hadn’t expected it to have such a demoralizing effect on Yaret and Tenik. “Jiniel, can you set someone aside to make sure we help them as much as possible?”

Jiniel side-eyed Ichtracia. “We’re stretched thin, Michel.”

“Just one person. A liaison. Yaret may still be of use to us.”

“What did you always tell me about being sentimental toward your former targets?” That rebuke was back in her tone again. Ichtracia made an irritable grunt, and Michel put up a hand to forestall a fight.

“You’re not wrong. But… I have to do this.”

Jiniel seemed on the edge of objecting, but finally gave a nod. “I’ll provide a liaison.”

“Thanks, I—”

Michel was cut off by someone shouting his name farther down the tunnel. He turned to see a lantern rushing toward him, and the figure holding it resolved into Tenik. The cupbearer held his leg, limping quickly with a grimace of pain. “Michel!”

“I’m here! What is it?”

“One of my people just now reported in from the capital building. We sent him there to recover some of the Blackhat files, and he overheard a meeting of a few of Sedial’s lieutenants.” Tenik looked over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “Sedial is moving on the Depths.”

“Moving on them?” Michel asked in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“He has no patience for the riots. He’s sent three Privileged to put Greenfire Depths to the flame. He intends to destroy it completely, and everyone in it.”

Michel felt like he’d been punched. “That’s a hundred thousand people. More. He’s just going to snuff them out? Damn it all! When?”

“Just after dawn.”

Michel spun to Jiniel. “Sound the alarm. Get a hold of everyone you can. We need to evacuate the Depths!”

“Evacuate?” Jiniel hissed. “That would take days. Weeks!”

“You have just a few hours.”

“We can at least get our people out. Come on!” Jiniel grabbed Michel by the hand and began to pull him down the tunnel. He escaped her grasp and turned to Ichtracia.

“You should stay here.” The last word hadn’t left his mouth when he finally caught sight of her face, shadows flickering in the lantern light. It was a mask of fury.

“No,” she spat, striding past him.

“Wait!”

She didn’t stop. “You are good at picking your fights, Michel. I’m picking mine. I won’t let him do this. Not to all those people. They think the Palo don’t have a Privileged. But you do. You have me.”

Michel exchanged a glance with Tenik, then nodded to Jiniel. “Get our people out. Send runners to every Palo leader we know. Everyone who can’t flee should be prepared to fight for their lives. We have to try to save who we can.” He began to run.

“Where are you going?” she shouted after him.

“With Ichtracia. We’re going to buy you as much time as we can!”