11

The Citadel, Triah

SUNLIGHT BURST IN THROUGH windows all along the twisted passageways of the Citadel, and Code hated it. There was a time for sunlight, and that time was summer. Code walked quickly, too preoccupied to acknowledge the dozens of students that greeted him as he passed.

He had too much on his mind. Who had sent Alain and Morayne to Triah? He’d asked them to lie low and not stray too far from the Blessed Storm until he could find out. It must have been someone in the Citadel, but without suspects he couldn’t accuse anyone.

And he had his own troubles. He had not long returned from his most recent mission, which had been to aid King Gainil Destrinar-Kol with the Daemon situation in Mavenil. The Triad had not been happy at the unexpected death of the monarch, who had been a graduate of the Citadel and thus something of a puppet for the Nazaniin. The even more unexpected shift from monarchy to democracy had angered Triadin Kosarin even more. But despite the mixed results of Code’s mission, he was due some down time. He’d accepted his assignment in Mavenil directly after returning from Arro Isle, and Oblivion knew they had both been harrowing experiences.

The Triad had recently awarded Code tenure at the Citadel—which, in Nazaniin speak, meant he was now in the upper echelon of psimancers in the organization, the small group of a dozen or so agents the Triad sent out on their most important missions. Sometimes these psimancers traveled in cotirs, or groups consisting of one member of each of the three psimantic arts: telesis, acumency, and clairvoyance. Other times, they were given leave to travel alone. Beneath the tenured were the Citadel associates: psimancers who had great potential, but were still learning, splitting their time between teaching at the Citadel and taking smaller missions.

And beyond the walls of the Citadel, scattered across the Sfaera, were the lesser Nazaniin cotirs—groups of field officers that comprised one acumen, one telenic, and one voyant where possible—though voyants were so rare nowadays that often cotirs were made up of only two psimancers.

The Nazaniin had claimed the Citadel after the King Who Gave Up His Crown vacated the palace. It still retained much of its former layout and style. The great hall was now the assembly hall, where the Citadel’s five hundred students met for meals. Much of the original artwork from the Age of Revival monarchs remained in the palace; tapestries, sculptures, and paintings lined the corridors and halls. Suits of armor in all styles, from all ages and nations and parts of the Sfaera, lined the assembly hall, backed by tapestries depicting the history of the Sfaera. The many large bedroom chambers had been converted to classrooms, with dozens of chairs, desks, chalk and chalk-panels set up in each. Servants’ quarters had become quarters for lower level students who were too young to live on their own out in the city. The Citadel prided itself in not employing any servants directly; the younger students divided their time between their studies and assigned chores and tasks, cleaning and serving as needed. It was quite the sight, sometimes, to see a foreign prince or princess or local noble on garderobe duty.

Code made his way through the students’ quarters now. While the initial structure and setup of the palace had more or less been kept intact, the Nazaniin had made other additions that outsiders, and even most of their own students, knew nothing about: a half-dozen subterranean levels had been added to the Citadel, and these basement levels constituted the true headquarters of the Nazaniin, including the lowest level, the Heart of the Void.

Code’s route wasn’t the only way to access the lower levels, but it was the fastest for him. He sidestepped a flock of students, and then pushed through the entrance of a little-used stairwell, shutting the door behind him.

The stairwell spiraled downward one level, ending at a blank wall. He gently placed his hands on two of the stones in the wall, and pushed. The stones grated inward, and the entire wall began to move. When the way was open, he went below into the darkness, pressing another button-stone to close the passage door behind him.

The dark only inhabited the first anteroom, as it did with every entrance into the lower levels of the Citadel. Through another door, he was greeted by torchlight.

The austere halls of the Nazaniin headquarters did not remotely compare to the grandeur of the Citadel. Many Nazaniin agents despised the absence of art and light below, but Code welcomed it. There was a certain neatness to it all, down below, a feeling of equality. No hall was greater than any other, no chamber more grand. They were all the same, and they all maintained the same precise lines. But, more than the clarity, Code loved the dark. He found himself growing angry, more often than not, at the seemingly constant sunlight that bombarded the city of Triah—more recently than ever before, it seemed. He had never loved the sun; he preferred the clouds, and the gray, and the dark. He did his best thinking in such conditions. The lower levels of the Citadel offered his only refuge when the sun refused to hide itself.

The corridors below the Citadel were not as crowded as those above, but they were not empty, either. Code recognized almost all of the agents that crossed his path, some on missions, some with messages, some working in the library, and others on patrol, looking out for curious students.

The Heart of the Void was at the very bottom of the basement levels, six stories below the Citadel.

A Nazaniin guard waited for him outside the iron double doors that served as the main entrance to the chamber. The door on the left was lacquered black, while the one on the right lacquered white, and the stone arch surrounding them both was painted a deep crimson.

Kosarin’s taste was more than a little brash.

Code was sure Sirana and Rune, the other two members of the Triad, had little to no input in the matter. Kosarin, the acumen, still acted as point of the triangle, while Sirana and Rune formed the base, as telenic and voyant, respectively.

The guard who greeted Code was one of the newer recruits, recently graduated from the Citadel. Farnid was a variant telenic, just like Code, which meant he needed to use the drug faltira to access his abilities. From what Code had seen, the lad’s power was not anything special, but he seemed dedicated enough.

“The Triad is expecting me, Farnid.”

“Of course. I was informed of your meeting with them.” Farnid opened the white door and moved aside.

Code strode through the entrance into yet another antechamber. Doors to his left and to his right led to the corridor that encircled the central room, but Code went straight to the large red door that led into the central chamber, and stepped into the Heart of the Void.

Kosarin’s tastes were no less ostentatious in the Heart of the Void itself. Alternating white, red, and black marble tiles spanned the floor, and the same colors trimmed the walls and furniture. Torches, lamps, and a large chandelier at the center of the chamber illuminated the space brightly. Cabinets, and shelves full of books lined the walls. This was not the Nazaniin’s official library; it was the Triad’s private collection.

Waiting for him in the Heart of the Void, seated around the great map table at the center of the room beneath the chandelier, were Kosarin, Sirana, and Rune.

Code saluted, arm diagonal across his chest, and then flashed a smile, despite his hackles rising. “A summons, so soon after my return. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Code seated himself opposite the Triad at the large circular table. The map, a relief model of the Sfaera, rose between them. “It’s rare I get to see the three of you all in one place.”

“We have a mission for you, Code,” Kosarin said. He was twenty years Code’s senior, at least. His spectacles and freshly shaved head reflected the chandelier’s light. A white, impeccably trimmed circle beard was the only hair on his head. Seated as he was, he looked more like a particularly prim librarian than the Venerato of the Citadel and Triadin of the Nazaniin. But Kosarin was far more powerful, physically, than he let on. And psimantically speaking… well, there was a reason he was the leader of the Nazaniin. As he spoke, he peered over his spectacles at Code, for all the world like a stern father. Kosarin twirled a small figurine in one hand, close to the surface of the map table.

The word “mission” hit Code like a punch in the gut. “How can I serve, Triadin?” Code asked, hiding his surprise.

“This is a mission of a different sort.” Sirana’s hands were folded on the table. Her red hair, impeccably bound in a single ponytail, was longer than it used to be. Sirana had gone through a period of… oddness, after Lathe’s disappearance. Hair unkempt, clothing disheveled. Highly unusual for someone of her stature, and even more unusual for Sirana herself. There had even been talk of her stepping down from the Triad. But now, she looked as elegant as ever. “Different than what you are used to, at least. But we needed our best agent.”

Code resisted the urge to raise one eyebrow. There was usually only one reason the Triad requested Code’s services specifically. He did not have a cotir of his own—not since Andrinar. If they needed a one-man job, he was the psimancer to do it.

Rune cleared his throat. Of the three members of the Triad, Rune had always been the odd man out. He was younger even than Code, perhaps twenty-six summers. His clothing was poorly tailored, and his long brown hair unkempt, strands always falling in his face. But Code knew better than to underestimate the voyant. He had only seen Rune’s psimantic abilities in action a handful of times, but between what he had seen and the rumors he had heard, there was no psimancer of the Sfaera more powerful than this man. Kosarin was more experienced, Sirana more nuanced and tactical, but when it came to raw power, no one could match Rune.

That is, until the rumors of the tiellan psimancer from the north. The Chaos Queen might be able to challenge the entire Triad.

“Are you sure you want to send me away from Triah?” Code asked, masking his anxiety. “With the Odenite group at our gates and the tiellans on the move, I could—”

“Your next mission will keep you in Triah.” Rune spoke over Code. “You are to befriend the psimancer previously known as Lathe. Gain his confidence. His services may prove valuable to us soon.”

“You want me to befriend Lathe Tallon?”

“He is no longer Lathe Tallon,” Sirana said, her voice hard and flat. “He is someone else entirely. Whatever rivalry existed between the two of you is over.”

“Lathe is really gone, then?” Code asked.

“For our purposes, we must consider it so,” Rune said.

The answer was cryptic as Oblivion, but then again, half the things Rune said made no sense whatsoever.

“The man wearing Lathe’s body calls himself Knot, now,” Kosarin said. “He is valuable to us. Not only does he act as a general and guard captain for the Odenites, but it is rumored he is married to the tiellan woman, Danica Winter Cordier. If we can exploit one of those relationships, good. If we can exploit both, all the better. You need to gain his trust, Code. Sirana will brief you further on your target. She has already had some… interaction with him.”

Sirana returned Code’s questioning glance with a cold and empty stare. He wondered why Sirana hadn’t nominated herself to gain the target’s trust, why she had left it to somebody like Code, who had never got on with Lathe.

Code almost asked the Triad if they knew about Alain and Morayne’s arrival in the city, or about the note that had led them here. But something stopped him. Had they been behind the note, they weren’t going to tell him now if they hadn’t already.

Goddess, he hated these games. Give him an enemy to fight, that was one thing. But intrigue had never suited him.

The Triad stood, and Code stood with them. He saluted Kosarin and Rune as they left the table, and then he was left staring across the map of the Sfaera at Sirana, mountains and cities rising between them.

“Have a seat,” Sirana said. “And let me tell you about my husband, and what he has become.”