Chapter Three

Neith

 

Having spent the last few hours in a chair, it’s no surprise there’s a dull ache at the back of my neck and the small of my back.

 

Although there are restorers everywhere I look, I couldn’t ask for a pain reliever. Not while they worked fervently to save my best friend’s life. Her mom, Aunty Tari, and I sat in our chairs anxiously waiting for word of Bel’s condition. Apparently, one of Mehrdad’s goons shot something crucial causing her to lose a lot of blood.

 

Aunty Tari and I were so relieved when we eventually learned Bel would be fine. We yelped in celebration and hugged. My nome’s head restorer said she could return home where she’ll recuperate over the next few days.

 

A few days.

 

That’s all I thought the Pursual would be. A few days to revamp Invier’s image and have him declared the Paladin so our union would be supported by Father and the other nomes.

 

How wrong I was.

 

In just a few days, two scions died, a third lies in a coma he will never wake from, my beloved Master Portan was murdered, my best friend almost died and I sent away the man I hatched the entire scheme for. Fortunately, one thing has gone right—Father agreed to support a union between Invier and me.

 

Now, if only I could find him to tell him the good news. Until then, I need to make sure today’s council meeting runs flawlessly. Father and I must carefully place his treachery at Nome Cyra’s feet. If unsuccessful, we will also fail to convince the council that our Phalanx units do not violate the Pact. The latter is completely unacceptable. The Phalanx must be legalized. And soon.

 

I enter the expansive pavilion and scan the room. The last time I was here, the air was electric. Today, those gathered mostly wear frowns no doubt shocked by the news that one nome attacked another so openly.

 

There are representatives from all but two of the nomes. There is nobody here to represent Nome Cyra. Mehrdad’s family is the highest-ranked nome, and if his father were here, he would lead this meeting. Given the reason for this gathering, however, Titan Cyra’s absence is understandable.

 

Another no-show is Nome Ategun. Also, understandable. Ika’s expulsion from the Pursual is a stain on his family that will take a while to wear off. Even the shocking events of last night are not enough to distract the other nomes from Ika’s disgraceful exit—something that was no doubt the main topic of discussion until last night’s events.

 

A sniffle draws my attention to the booths on my right. They line the wall, filled with families. My gaze descends on Invier’s mom. She dabs a napkin at her red nose as her daughter and Xana Sirou comfort her. Her husband sits with his head in his hands. I was by Father’s side when they were informed Invier perished in the attack. I watched the screen as Titane Floran cried out and crumpled to the ground. That plus the grief on Titan Floran’s face had cut through me. The same way it does now.

 

Father said telling them Invier was dead was the smart play. How else could we explain his absence? When he returns we will tell everyone we were keeping him safe until Titan Cyra was found because Mehrdad’s father could try to kill the Paladin in retaliation for his son’s loss and ultimate death. Such things happened after Pursuals in the ancient past. Once Invier is back, the plan is to immediately host a pairing event for the two of us which will surely quiet questions surrounding his absence. Then, he and I will have what we want—a future together.

 

Watching his sad family, I wish I could tell them he’s alive. While I don’t know where Invier went, I know he’s somewhere waiting to be found.

 

Invier’s sister gives me a dirty look that is mirrored on her friend’s face.

 

“As I thought, Nome Cyra is not here today,” Father says sitting at one end of a long table, which is in the middle of the pavilion floor. I hurry to my empty family booth as the meeting begins.

 

“As the highest ranked nome, Nome Cyra’s representative is permitted to serve as Arbiter of this council meeting. Has anyone been granted a proxy to appear on Titan Cyra’s behalf?”

 

The nine men and women seated at the table look at each other. They represent the Nome Council. Seven of them were elected to the position by the nomes seated in the booths above them.

 

“If no one objects, as the highest nome present, Nome Reffour shall act as Arbiter and I’ll call this meeting to order.” As the second-ranked nome, my father is a super councilor. Same with Titane Carre, what with her nome being the third highest in rank. The vote of every super councilor weighs more than that of an ordinary council member. Specifically, two and a half times more. I already know that aspect of Council politics will play a dominant role today.

 

Loic’s mother drums her long fingers on the table to a discordant chord made louder by how silent the pavilion has become. The noise is punctuated every other second or so by the pointed end of her talon ring. Its golden gleam shines as do the rubies, emeralds and diamonds encrusted on it. It’s a tradition for the Titan and Titane of Nome Carre to wear talon rings. They resemble the sharp claws of a feline, though elongated past the tip of her index finger. They have always reminded me of an exaggerated and slimmer version of her nome’s insignia. She never lifts her gaze from the swift movement of her fingers but even from this angle I see the dark circles around her eyes.

 

Father rises from his seat. “I cede my position as today’s Arbiter to my daughter, Scioness Neith of Nome Reffour.”

 

Portan used to force me to attend council meetings, but I don’t know much about chairing them. Father promises it’ll be straightforward. As my nome was attacked, he wagers most on the council will have a hard time refusing my wishes. My goal is to use whatever sympathy and goodwill I gain to secure our interests.

 

First task – blame the Cyras for the deaths of the scions.

 

Second task – get a majority of the council to legalize the Phalanx.

 

Third task – do it quickly.

 

I’m ready.

 

***

 

“Most, if not all of you, are aware that this estate was attacked last night.” I meet Titan Kriel’s gaze. He’s seated at the other end of the table and strokes his scruffy chin, listening intently. His sandy complexion is highlighted by his anthracite suit. “Undoubtedly, you saw some of the damage as you made your way here this morning.”

 

I look from Titan Kriel to Titane Yetun and then, to Titane Opitz, who sits with her hands clasped on the table. Both women look on with deadpan expressions and I bite back my words momentarily.

 

Aunty Tari’s lips hold a small smile of camaraderie and to her right is Seth’s father. He gives me an almost imperceptible nod and only then am I able to speak again. My words fueled by their support.

 

“This was not just an attack on my family but an attack on all of us. If one, then all,” I say reminding everyone of an adage unique to the Group of Twenty. It is a solemn promise to consider an attack on one family as an attack on all nomes.

 

Many in the booths above nod in agreement. Father, sitting in the booth I just left, smiles in approval of my progress so far.

 

I tap a button on the honeyoak table. “Please watch the following.”

 

A screen materializes in front of each council member and a silent video plays. Large rectangular screens also lower from the ceiling, for those in the booths.

 

Sharp gasps and angry mumbling sputters across the pavilion.

 

“Note the Nome Cyra insignia on the uniforms, plus the attackers were led by Scion Mehrdad Cyra.” I say once the video ends. “The Group of Twenty has lived in peace for centuries because its members have stridently observed the Pact. I don’t need to remind anyone that each family swore to uphold the agreement. I’m sure I also don’t need to remind us it specifies that no nome may attack another in the brutal manner we just witnessed.”

 

While Father believes the Pact is open to interpretation on whether a non-human army is legal, there is no question about the document’s stance on murder. The killing of any nome member is punishable by death. The council need only vote to make it so. Of course, the accused can challenge the decision, thereby placing the matter before the adjudicators–Invier’s family, Nome Floran. Under the circumstances, however, Nome Cyra would want to avoid taking this issue to the Florans. They believe they lost a son and even though arbitrators must observe a strict legal code, one could safely assume the death penalty would still stand.

 

“Please bring in Scion Cyra.”

 

The pavilion doors open and Mehrdad is led in by our head of security, Sohr. The light from the crystal chandeliers bounce off her blond, buzzed cut. His hands are shackled in a bolt, an electric restraint that glows a platinum white. The energy it disseminates pops and crackles, getting louder as he tromps to the table. I’ve never worn one before, but I’m told any attempt to separate bolted wrists more than an inch or so will cause terrible pain.

 

Adela’s father, Titan Seltan, jumps out of his seat and his metal chair clangs against the onyx floor as it flips backward.

 

“You bastard!” His eyes are wild and harden to a graphite shade.

 

Like Invier’s parents, he believes Mehrdad is responsible for his child’s death. The Titan lunges in the captive’s direction but thinks better of it and returns to his seat, which he lifts off the floor. The contempt on his face is evident for all to see.

 

Mehrdad, on the other hand, looks calm. Well-rested, even. As if the events from a few hours ago never happened.

 

Titane Carre is also on her feet, though she’s gripping onto the table’s edge. She says nothing but the tears she sheds speak volumes. Her son Loic was the first to die and at the time, she was informed he’d died from a reaction to an undisclosed allergen. Now, she’s been told Mehrdad killed him. Her lips quiver as she watches him approach.

 

“—murderer—”

 

“—killed all those people and—”

 

“—kill him—”

 

Things don’t look too good for Mehrdad and I’m glad.

 

Sohr holds Mehrdad not far from Titan Kriel, which is fortunate. If he were to come close to my end of the table, either Titan Seltan on my right or Titane Carre on my left would kill him. Their blood lust is evident.