Chapter

29

Kieran

A good night’s sleep should have bolstered my determination. Instead, I woke with dread clutching at my throat and twisting my innards. The feeling of forgiveness that had warmed me last night dissipated like wisps of a happy dream that I couldn’t quite remember. The resolution and strength born at the tower had dissolved as well. I sat up and rested my forehead against my knees.

Holy One, could we just skip the Council? I could face anything but them. Self-important, treacherous, power-hungry representatives of the People. Why did He involve them in His plans? Uneasily, I opened these rebellious thoughts to His gaze. My muscles tightened as I waited for rebuke or disappointment from Him. Instead I sensed a gentle hand rest on my shoulder, and though He didn’t speak, I felt His compassion. He wouldn’t release me from this path, but He understood my struggle. My muscles relaxed. It was enough.

Ever the practical one, Markkel had rounded up clean, non-Hazorite clothes for all of us. He and Susan would wear official Council tunics and sit with the Rendor Council since that was his clan. Markkel had procured a rust-colored tunic for me as well, but I refused to touch it. Even with Cameron’s sponsorship, I wasn’t sanctioned by any clan and wouldn’t pretend to a rank in the Council. Markkel insisted that as the new Restorer it was my right, but I wore a comfortable brown tunic with no emblem and strapped on my sword. I noticed the leather of the belt needed oiling. It had gotten stiff after a few days of hiking through rainy afternoons.

Susan made a bowl of clavo and ladled it into mugs for each of us. The scent of spices seemed sharper than usual. The curved mug fit the hollow of my palm, and I marveled at the skill of the potter who formed it.

I recognized this heightened awareness . . . noticing details of every kind. It often happened on the eve of battle. Life became precious when you knew the time might be short. Like the last flare of light that blazed in a heat trivet just before the magchip burned out. I stared at Nolan, noticing the way his head tilted as he listened intently even while he appeared to be looking somewhere else. Suddenly there were hundreds of other things I wanted to learn about him.

Markkel looked around our subdued group as we finished breakfast. “Let’s talk to the One.” Susan gave him a grateful nod and bowed her head. I closed my eyes and felt the power of the words as he spoke.

“Father, You are the strong Tower. You stand unmoved by those who would harm us. Thank you for bringing us this far, for keeping Jake safe, and for providing a Restorer to the People.”

Then Susan piped in, her voice quiet at first but soon resonating with strength. “‘And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.’ Holy One, I thank You for that promise. Give Kieran the strength he needs, and help the Council accept him. Thank You that even when You call us to bring healing or protection or justice through some special role, it is actually You who are the Restorer. Even though the People of the Verses have suffered from the attacks of enemies, we know You will restore them. Even though there are things we don’t understand . . .” Her voice broke and she took a shaky breath before continuing. “We know that You are in control.”

Then she sang a short, common Song. I was startled to hear Nolan join her in a sweet, clear tenor. He must have learned the Song from Tara and Kendra.

Lord of the Verses that teach us Your way,

Guardian of seasons and Chief of each day,

Looking with mercy on each need we bring,

You give us strength through the Songs as we sing.

I wanted to sing with them, but my throat constricted with emotion, and I couldn’t produce a sound. Markkel and Susan’s prayers were like a parent’s tuck-in blessing—something I hadn’t experienced since I was four years old.

We sat in silence for a little while, letting the strengthening words take hold. Then I looked at Nolan. “You’ll go with Markkel and Susan today. You’ll be able to wait in the Rendor outer office during the session.”

He chewed on his lower lip, but finally nodded. He wouldn’t be allowed into the central room of the Council tower, but I wouldn’t have wanted him there anyway, in case things got ugly. I gave a quick look at Markkel and Susan. They nodded. Whatever happened, they’d make sure Nolan was all right.

When I arrived at the Council tower, Cameron stood outside talking to a Council guard. I stretched my hearing and caught the last part of his orders. “Bring them after the session begins.” The guard nodded and strode away. Cameron saw me approaching, and his eyes flicked over me with scorn. “You insist on going through with this? You could just give me the information you’ve gathered. I’ll pass it along to them.”

That actually made me laugh. “How considerate of you.” Then my hand rested on my sword. I gave him a level stare. “Let’s go.”

He sighed and shook his head as if I were an annoying child who didn’t respect protocol—which was half true. He led me into the building, through the imposing entryway and past the guards at the inner passage. This corridor circled the outer rim of the tower with doors leading into each clan’s office. The inner chamber could only be entered through one of the outer offices, and only after the Council was officially called into session. The halls were nearly deserted. Our footsteps echoed on the polished granite. Most councilmembers were already in their rooms, waiting. My chest tightened as Cameron nodded to the guard posted outside the Lyric office. The man eyed me with suspicion but slid the door aside. Cameron strode inside, and I followed, alert to any betrayal. But no one else was in the room.

Each clan cast one vote in the Council, and the number of councilmembers was left to the discretion of the clan. Some had up to twenty other members sit in on sessions and advise their chief councilmember. Interesting that Cameron didn’t make a pretense of including other representation for Lyric. Before I could comment on it, the chimes sounded—a low, doleful bell that rang out twelve times to symbolize each of the clans. When the last note faded, Cameron slid the door aside. We stepped through.

I’d been in the Council chamber once before. Today I felt a wave of vertigo when I looked down from the Lyric balcony. Men and women were settling into chairs in their segments of the room. Twelve low balconies, partitioned with wooden railings, surrounded the middle of the tower. Right now, Jorgen from Rendor was marching down a ramp toward the center. I was grateful that Jorgen was today’s leader. In my mind he was one of the least objectionable councilmembers. Susan gave me an encouraging nod from the front row of the Rendor balcony.

Jorgen wasted no time. “Rendor is present and represented by Chief Councilmember Jorgen.” His voice boomed through the large room. He went on to name each person in his section and affirm his sponsorship of them. Then he turned to the next clan.

Landon of Corros Fields stood and announced his members. He was a short, round man who I knew was a firm ally of Cameron. He had benefited for many years from the illicit trading that Cameron had initiated between Hazor’s Corros Hills and the clan of Corros Fields.

The roll call continued around the room. The two lost clans spoke, announcing their place in the Council after decades of absence. One more good thing to come out of the battle of Morsal Plains.

Cameron stood and declared himself, but didn’t declare official sponsorship of me. Neglecting to introduce me was a serious breach, but Jorgen ignored it, probably suspecting more treacherous clay pits lay ahead. As soon as each clan’s chief councilmember had spoken, Jorgen nodded to Cameron.

Cameron strolled down the ramp and took a moment to turn, looking at each balcony.

“Honored councilmembers, I called this emergency session because our clans are facing a potential threat. I have learned that Hazor has regrouped from the battle at Morsal Plains. They are planning—”

“I ask to be recognized.” I directed my interruption toward Jorgen.

Cameron glared in my direction, and annoyed murmurs sounded in several balconies. I wasn’t about to let Cameron take over the session and distort the truth.

“Who sponsors you?” Jorgen asked, turning his gaze to Cameron. It was clear to everyone that I was in the Lyric balcony.

Cameron waved a hand. “I brought him because he has information. However I’m uncertain of protocol, given the fact that he does not exist.”

There were gasps throughout the room, and he barely hid a smile. “I know.” Concern dripped from his words. “It offends me as well to bring an exile into our holy chamber. But regrettably, he refused to give me all the information, and it is critical to the safety of our people.”

Someone shouted an objection, and a raging debate started over the audacity of bringing a banished criminal to the Council.

I rubbed my temples where a throbbing pain was rising. This could go on half the day. I glanced across the room toward the Rendor balcony. Susan was watching the proceedings with a look of exasperation. Finally, she rose to her feet.

Jorgen saw her. “The Council recognizes the Restorer, Susan of Rendor.” His loud voice brought instant silence to the room. All eyes turned to Susan.

“Esteemed councilmembers,” she said, “I have something to share that will help you with your current dilemma.” I’d never heard her use such a winsome voice before. She smiled at them with what looked like genuine affection. The mood softened throughout the room. “The One granted me the privilege of serving the People of the Verses in a small way.” Smart. She was gently reminding them of how she’d prevented the destruction of Braide Wood. “Now my time as the Restorer has ended, and I’ll be leaving the clans.” Dismayed whispers fizzed around the room like static. She held up a hand. “But the One has promised that in every time of great need He will provide a Restorer. I am honored to introduce to you the new Restorer who was chosen by the One: Kieran of Braide Wood.”

The room exploded. I assessed the tide of emotion swelling around the tower. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the railing in front of me.

“Do you endorse him?” Jorgen asked Cameron. The Lyric chief councilmember didn’t have to reject me openly. He simply refused to answer. We had anticipated this. Susan had faced similar opposition.

I left the balcony and walked down the ramp to the center of the tower, where I asked Jorgen for his boot knife, since Nolan still had mine. I rolled up the sleeve of my tunic and ran the blade deeply along the skin of my inner arm. Blood dripped to the glossy black floor. I had a sudden flash of memory from the Sidian temple in Hazor. Good thing they couldn’t read minds. The Council wouldn’t appreciate the mental comparison.

The skin began to tingle with the now-familiar sensation of rapid healing. Jorgen handed me a cloth. His face was grave and noncommittal, but one eye closed in an approving wink. Markkel had prepared him for this.

I wiped off the blood and held my arm up so everyone could see it. “The One has called me to be the Restorer. Will you allow me to speak?” I no longer had to force respect into my voice. My irritation for the Council had faded. Their danger was too near for me to antagonize them.

Jorgen spoke quickly. “We will hear you.”

I don’t know if he had the right to make that proclamation, but no one argued, so I began. “I’ve just arrived from Sidian and Corros. The One called me to bring the Verses to Hazor, but Zarek faces too much pressure from his commanders and the followers of the hill-gods. He has massed an army to ride against Lyric. He plans to destroy this city and tear down the central tower, because he thinks the One will then no longer be able to protect the People of the Verses.”

Their skepticism gave way to panic. Chief councilmembers jumped to their feet, waving their arms and shouting to be heard. Whatever they thought of me personally, they wanted any help they could get.

“How long do we have to gather the guardians?”

“How does he plan to breach the walls?”

“How big is the Corros army?”

Questions flew across the room.

Before I could continue, Cameron stepped forward. “Yes, it sounds dire,” he said in a soothing voice. “Thankfully, I’ve seen this coming and made arrangements for the support we’ll need to hold back Hazor’s army.” He had every eye focused on him, including mine. What was he up to now? He gestured to a Council guard, who opened the door to the Lyric outer office.

Two hooded and masked figures drifted inside.

“Kahlarea has generously offered their alliance and their considerable weapons.”

Shock rippled through the tower room.

Cameron didn’t look at me. “All they ask is that we turn over the new Restorer to them. After all, it’s the Restorer’s role to die for the People of the Verses. It’s why they are sent.”

So this was what he’d been working toward all along. I looked at the two assassins. Hard to tell with their faces masked, but I knew I’d seen those eyes before. The taller one gave a brief nod in my direction, and his eyes squinted. He was grinning. That fact made my stomach hurt. “No.” I was glad my voice stayed calm. “If this was what the One had called me to do, I would go happily. But He has another plan.”

Cameron’s sneer was broad. “So the One confides in you, now? A criminal? An outcast? You aren’t worthy to be a Restorer.”

“Of course I’m not.” Cameron’s words had the opposite effect that he intended. Gratitude welled up inside me and gave me strength. I looked up at the balconies and the faces of the Council that I’d always distrusted and despised. “None of us is worthy of His attention. But He’s chosen to love us. And I believe He’ll save us from Hazor. But even if He doesn’t choose to spare Lyric, I’d rather die in His will than ignore the Verses and put my trust in other alliances.”

“Yes!” That was Jorgen’s deep shout.

“We follow the Restorer,” came another voice.

“We can’t betray a promised Restorer to our enemies.”

Soon the entire room was clamoring.

Cameron gestured broadly and reclaimed their attention. “Since Kieran hid the fact that he was a Restorer, I made what plans I could for our people. But if you believe you can trust him— ” he shrugged—“so be it.”

I gave him a sharp glance. Again he backed down too easily. Whatever his schemes were, it hardly mattered now. Nevertheless, cold fingers crawled across my skin as I looked at the two silent assassins. They never took their eyes off of me.

Cameron signaled to his men, and they led the Kahlareans back out through the Lyric office. I’d leave with a different clan when the session was over. Preferably a large contingent. With lots of swords. After the door closed, Cameron returned to the Lyric balcony and sat down, divorcing himself from the proceedings.

I hated turning my back on him, but I addressed the room as a whole. “We need to move quickly. Zarek’s Gray Hills army was already in Corros, and I counted about five hundred there. He also brought some of his Sidian army to join them—maybe all of them. Send word to your guardians to come to Lyric.”

“That will take too long,” whined the chief councilmember from Braide Wood.

“Yes. I know.” I pivoted to face him. “But it’s a backup plan. We also need to send Lyric guardians out on patrol to watch the Hazor border.”

All eyes turned to Cameron—since the Lyric guardians were part of his clan. He pretended to join the swell of planning with good grace. “Send orders to the head guardian at the tower,” he said to one of the Council guards. The man nodded and left the room.

I looked back at the Braide Wood chief councilmember. “Will you send for Skyler and tell him to bring the equipment for the syncbeam suppression field?” He nodded and immediately signaled a Council apprentice to send a messenger.

This was going better than I’d expected.

Suddenly, there was a disturbance at the door of the Lyric balcony. It slid open, and a flushed and agitated messenger whispered something to Cameron, arms waving.

Cameron stepped forward calmly. “I ask you to reconsider the generous offer of the Kahlareans. I’ve just received word that Hazor’s army is approaching. Hundreds of soldiers are already crossing Corros Fields. We may get a few messengers out of Lyric before we’re surrounded, but the guardians from the other clans will never arrive in time. Kieran came too late.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Not too late.” I was able to speak quietly and still be heard. “The One showed me what He wants me to do.”