Chapter Forty

Neith

 

Caustic undertones greet me as I stride into the Pavilion. The nervousness in the air is thick enough to touch. Stunned stares and gasps soon follow and I don’t care. Those who know the news likely expected me to walk in dripping in black. I’m happy to disappoint them. This is not a period for mourning. It’s a season for action and a show of strength—which is exactly what I plan to do.

 

The clicking of my heels ring out and my gold dress trails as I stroll past the booths. The fabric shines against the inky black of the floor. Through the corner of my eye, I notice Ika. I guess he believes there’s been so much action to distract the rest of us from his disgraceful exit from my Pursual almost three weeks ago. Well, what’s to come will forever stamp out all memory of the shame he brought to his family.

 

They will remember nothing from before today.

 

I don’t bother to make eye contact with anyone at the Council table though I feel their gaze on me. Acknowledging any of them won’t serve me well. Much of yesterday was spent speaking to the allies I need. Those whose support is guaranteed. Despite the way things ended with Father, I had to give him credit for sending Phalanx to various nomes prior to his death. As a collective, we share the same interest for we all know that failing to legalize the robot soldiers puts us in jeopardy.

 

Sliding between my seat and the table, I clasp my hands and take in my audience. There’s an amused smirk on Titane Yetun’s face. She knows what’s coming and is ready for the entertainment. Titan Kriel’s, however, eyes are narrowed in my direction. Surely, he’s wondering why I called for a meeting when one was to happen tomorrow. Titane Carre still has dark circles under her eyes, likely still haunted by the death of her son, Loic. She doesn’t have on her talon rings, which is good. They would remind everyone how she used the claw shaped accessory to slice Mehrdad’s throat open at the last meeting. Does that keep her up at night?

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the great nomes, thank you for coming, especially as I had to postpone our previously planned meeting without much notice.” Although I’m apologizing, my voice is cool and remote. “I plan to keep today’s gathering to the point as I inform you of the major events of the last five days.”

 

Without pause, I say, “On Friday, my father lost his life trying to capture Goran Cyra.”

 

There’s a collective gasp as bodies stir in their seats. Whispers follow and backs straighten as people now pay closer attention.

 

“Why are we just hearing of this?” Titan Ategun yells out from his booth.

Typical Ategun. Brash.

 

“Because I deemed it so,” I reply, directing my gaze his way.

 

He meets me with a confused stare, likely wondering what I’m up to. His expression soon changes as anger flashes across his features. “It is customary for the death of a Titan to be announced immed—”

 

“Arbiter, please accept my condolences,” Titan Kriel cuts him off, his voice flush with sympathy that rings untrue. Still, it spurs the exact result I need.

 

“Yes, Arbiter … condolences.”

 

“Sorry—”

 

“Stars above! How could that happen?”

 

Ignoring the rising chorus, I put my hands up to quiet the room once more.

 

“During the mission, it was revealed that the Cyras are working with the rebels, who I now know call themselves Minim.”

 

People look to their neighbor and the rebels name is repeated by my audience. My eyes stray to Nome Ategun’s booth. None of them seem particularly upset to learn about my loss or the revelation of a partnership between Minim and the Cyras. No matter.

 

“So, Goran did give those missiles to the rebels, then?” Someone says from the booths but I don’t bother to figure out who.

 

“That bastard!” Titan Sirou’s voice shakes at the Council table. Given that some of those missiles wiped out four of his family members, the emotions are to be expected and will play toward my cause.

 

I flick my gaze to Aunty Tari. She’s barely holding it together. Her lips are thin as she stares at her hands on the table. They are curled into fists.

 

“Based on my investigation, I am convinced the Cyras are not the only family from our ranks working with Minim.”

 

This time, every single Ategun glowers at me. My eyes sweep over each of them—parents, children and their large extended family. One by one, their gaze lowers.

 

I drag my eyes across the room and bulging eyes look at me in disbelief. They can’t believe another nome would work with the rebels. I would have felt the same way if I didn’t know better. Nevertheless, I won’t sugar my words for their comfort and sense of security. Let them know how unsafe they really are.

 

As I prepare to say my next words, my eyes stray to Titan Kriel. He’s glaring at me, his contempt no longer concealed. Yes, you know what I’m doing and you can’t stop me. I smile internally, satisfied to put him in his place for once. He has delayed almost every move of mine as Arbiter but he won’t be able to stall myself or the rest of the Council today.

 

“For that reason, I led an operation to destroy the rebel’s base of operations. The result is that Koroda is no more. While some insurgents escaped before I could get to them, the rebels won’t be returning to their island hideout anytime soon.”

 

The room is silent as those gathered continue to process the information I’ve shared. I don’t add anymore, allowing the news to sink in.

 

Seth’s father, Titan Talum, slowly rises to his feet. “I offer my condolences for your loss, Arbiter. Your father was a trusted friend to many of us gathered here today.” If only he had been a trusted friend to me.

 

“I owe great thanks to your family as your decision to grant my son a Pass meant he was with his dying mother and not here when your estate was attacked.” His eyes drift to his fingers, splayed before him on the honeyoak table. “Was it wise to venture off against the rebels on your own? With your father gone, you are responsible for your nome and as Arbiter, you are responsible for us all.”

 

“Thank you for your concern, Titan.” There’s a warmth to my voice that’s appropriate for the concern in his. “But rest assured, I wasn’t on my own as I was accompanied by several contingents of Phalanx units.”

 

“Ah, good,” he says and lowers himself into his seat.

 

“Phalanx?” Titan Kriel takes me in. Pure disdain flares in his eyes. “The Council has not approved them for use yet. How dare you make a unilateral decision on that matter?”

 

Raising a brow at the audacity of his tone, I say, “I dare because as Arbiter, I am permitted to take what action is deemed necessary to protect the lives and assets of Nome families under Section 895 of the Pact.”

 

“But you should have—”

 

“—Waited for your permission? I already have the support of a majority of the councilors seated at this table today, Titan Kriel. However, if it will make you feel better, we shall conduct a vote and bring this matter to a swift conclusion.”

 

Taking my eyes off him, I look at the other individuals seated at the council table. “All those in favor of legalizing the Phalanx, please raise your hand.”

 

I’m not sure whose hand flew up faster—Titan Seltan’s or Titan Sirou’s, but one by one, councilors lift their hands. Murmurs spread across the pavilion until there is only one person at the table with his hands in his lap.

 

“I wish to contest this vote, Arbiter.”

 

“And you can, Titan Kriel. As of this moment, however, the Group of Twenty Council has legalized the Phalanx units for operation. We shall wail on Nome Floran for the proper drafting of this new legislation.” I nod at the Florans and Invier’s mother nods back, surely pleased to be mentioned by name and given a potentially lucrative contract.

 

“Our next order of business—”

 

“With all your robots, were you able to capture Goran? Or any of the rebels?” Titan Kriel interrupts, his irritation raw.

 

“Unfortunately, no but the mission to Koroda revealed that some amongst us are working with them.”

 

“Oh please!” Titan Ategun jumps back into the fray, standing on his feet. “You will say anything to have us ignore the abomination that are the Phalanx. You can’t distract us—”

 

“From how your scion brought dishonor to your family?” I quip. “Yes, I know that but it doesn’t change the fact that some of us are working with the rebels. In fact, I bumped into someone we thought dead at the rebel’s headquarters.”

 

Ika’s father lowers his chin and flops into his seat as all eyes turn on his family. With a few words from me, the room has been reminded of Ika’s disgrace. I stare at them as well, daring any of them to say something else. My snarky comment might have seemed impromptu, but I knew Titan Ategun would try to input himself into the Phalanx discussion. And when he did, I was ready to spotlight his family’s failure.

 

“Please tell us, who is working with those terrorists?” The question comes from Titane Opitz. Lines of concern form on her forehead.

 

“It was someone we all assumed to be dead.” I answer, keeping my voice low for effect. Draw them into the mystery so that the revelation will have a big enough impact on my audience.

 

Titan Kriel scoffs with a chortle and a condescending grin. “You saw a ghost, Arbiter?”

 

I resist the temptation to snarl his way. With a deep breath, I say, “I saw Scion Invier Floran in Koroda. He is working with the rebels.”

 

That shuts him up as he looks away.

 

Titane Floran lurches to her feet in her booth. “Invier is alive?” She has a broad grin on her face.

 

I look at her sidelong and say, “He might as well be dead, Titane. He’s a traitor to the nomes.”

 

That drains the smile from her face. Along with her color, which becomes ashen. She clamps a hand over her mouth, the reality of her son’s fate clicking into place.

 

Her daughter, Song, stands beside her mother. Her round face a younger version of the older woman’s. While her mother’s amber eyes fill with confusion, hers spark with defiance. She lifts her chin and stares down her thin nose at me. She doesn’t have the friendly freckles Invier got from their mother.

 

“Invier would never do something so treasonous. He would never be so disloyal to his kind,” she says, but it sounds like a low growl. Her face is stamped in a furious scowl. I can feel the heat of her anger all the way over here.

 

Not lowering my gaze, I say, “He was with the rebels. Or, do you have a good explanation for why that would be?”

 

She continues to glower at me while her father, looking gaunter than the last time I saw him, tugs on the cuff of her long sleeve, black shirt to get her to sit.

 

“There has to be another reason. Besides, who knows what happened to him during the Cyra attack.” Her voice lifts an octave. “If he’s working with the rebels, it’s all your fault! You’re the reason he was here in the first place. You’re the reason all those participants were here!”

 

The shaking pitch of her voice jars me in my stomach, making it lurch. She’s right. My Pursual resulted in the deaths of too many people and at least one of them at my hand. Another thought crosses my mind and I internally shake off the guilt.

 

“Are we to assume your family has nothing to do with the rebels and knew nothing of your scion’s involvement?” I ask.

 

Song’s lips part but her mom grabs her arm. “Arbiter, Nome Floran is and will always be loyal to the Pact,” she says, straightening her spine.

 

“Very good. While I understand your daughter’s desire to protect her brother, she cannot blame me for his choices. Keep in mind, Invier and the rebels are responsible for the death of a girl who was a sister to me.” My eyes slide to Aunty Tari whose shoulders rise and fall in time to her quiet sobs.

 

I can see she’ll be in shambles soon. While another emotional outburst could further derail my agenda, Bel’s death must be mentioned.

 

“Belema. Youngest daughter and Dogenne to Nome Mezan. My best friend and sister, gave her life to keep all of us safe. She was with me on the mission yesterday.” I stop speaking to allow a few poignant seconds to pass. “I will not allow her sacrifice to be diminished.”

 

Bel didn’t lose her life fighting for the nomes, but saying she did will buy me even more sympathy and goodwill that I can leverage to my nome’s advantage. Also, it spares the Mezans from what Invier’s family will surely experience now that he’s been associated with the rebels—ostracization. No matter what Bel did to me, I couldn’t put that burden on Aunty Tari and the rest of the family.

 

It also makes you look bad if your best friend was a rebel.

 

I ignore the last thought preferring to watch Song whose scowl wavers though her jaw pulses. I spot a flaxen-colored, curly mop rise a few booths away. It’s Seth. He walks over to her, putting his body between us, so I no longer see her face. Throwing an arm over her shoulder, he guides her out of the Pavilion.

 

As they leave, I continue speaking. “It is my objective, as should be the objective of all well-meaning members of the Group of Twenty, to find every single rebel and get rid of them. We will never be safe until we eradicate the vermin who threaten to destroy us.

 

“Nobody will be spared in this quest, regardless of their status as Lower Landers, members of the Group of Sixty or, one of our own.”

 

Not a single voice lifts to speak in the pavilion. If there was any doubt, there is no more now. I, Neith Reffour, Titane of Nome Reffour and Arbiter of the Group of Twenty Council, am in control and will eliminate the rebel scourge.

 

I’m coming for you, Invier.

 

I’m coming for all of you.

 

 

END OF BOOK 2.

 

Want to know what happens next? The Nome Chronicles continues with THE PARAGON, which is now available. Turn the page for an excerpt.

 

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