OSIRA’H
She and Rod’h returned to Ildira from Wulfton, disturbed by their interactions with the faeros and convinced that they no longer had any hold on the fiery elementals.
When they entered the Prism Palace, side by side, Gale’nh came to meet them, having sensed their arrival. Osira’h shook her head. “The faeros are skittish and unpredictable. They will not help us.”
“They are afraid,” Rod’h said with an edge of bitterness. “They have been hurt by the Shana Rei, and too few of them remain, so they will let the rest of us be wiped out.”
Osira’h lowered her gaze. “We didn’t have the strength to make them listen.”
Gale’nh gave a grim nod. “Now I fear the mad Designate will insist that he can do it. Rusa’h is convinced he knows them better than anyone. He argues with the Mage-Imperator even now.”
The three entered the skysphere audience chamber, where Jora’h and Nira were in a heated discussion with Rusa’h. Prime Designate Daro’h was beside them, looking overwhelmed by the constant danger, but he brightened when he saw Rod’h. Behind the chrysalis chair, Yazra’h and Muree’n stood in full armor, ready to take on any threats—even the mad Designate, should he forget himself.
After the recent mob massacre, Ildirans had begun to look at one another with suspicion, trying to spot any hint of shadow behind their eyes, any glimmer that otherwise normal people might go berserk. Osira’h could sense the thrumming edginess through the thism, and she realized that the fear and uncertainty were causing as much damage to the Ildiran psyche as the shadows themselves were.
When the three entered the audience chamber, the tense conversation paused. Seeing Rod’h and Osira’h back safe, the Mage-Imperator brightened, but Rusa’h skewered them with a gaze. He stepped forward imperiously. “So? Did you find the faeros? Were the two of you sufficient to force their attention? Have you made an alliance and brought them to us?”
Holding her katana, Yazra’h snapped at him. “The Mage-Imperator will speak. Your presence here is a courtesy, nothing more.”
With forced contrition, the fallen Designate bowed toward the chrysalis chair. “My apologies, Liege.”
Drawing on her strength and confidence, Osira’h stepped up to present her news. “Rod’h and I were able to contact the faeros, but they were reluctant. They tried to flee.”
“We did make them listen,” Rod’h broke in, “but it did little good. The faeros are frightened.”
“Then we must convince them, coerce them into an alliance.” Rusa’h spun to face the chrysalis chair. “These two may have communicated with the faeros, Liege, but neither of them can do what is necessary—and it is not their responsibility. You remember the old legends.” He balled his fists. “You know how Mage-Imperator Xiba’h forged an alliance with the faeros the last time the Shana Rei appeared in the Spiral Arm. Osira’h and Rod’h can beseech them all they like, but their sacrifice isn’t meaningful enough. The faeros need to feel your fire before they will accept the alliance.”
“Alliance?” Jora’h’s expression grew stormy. “I do not believe we need to forge a dangerous alliance with the faeros, and I certainly will not immolate myself just to attract their attention.”
Adar Zan’nh marched into the skysphere audience chamber, keeping his eyes fixed on the chrysalis chair, as if the others weren’t there. “Liege, you requested an update on our expedition to the Onthos home system. The preparations are complete for our septa to depart. I have been in contact with General Keah, and she says the Kutuzov is ready to join the expedition. We can head out to the rendezvous within days.”
“Will a septa be sufficient?” Jora’h asked.
“The Shana Rei extinguished the Onthos system millennia ago. I do not expect to encounter a battle there now.”
Rod’h took a half step forward, glancing at Gale’nh. “I have just returned, but I am ready to join the expedition. We vow to find the answers.”
“Answers aren’t always ready to be found,” Tal Gale’nh said.
Osira’h looked at her brothers. “I am willing to go along as well, if the expedition needs me.”
Nira flashed a warm smile at her daughter. “I think you have something else to do. We have a bit of good news to share.” She glanced at Jora’h.
The Mage-Imperator continued, “Tamo’l sent a message for you from Kuivahr. She and her team have been investigating the medicinal properties of kelp strains in hopes of helping the misbreeds, but she thinks she may have discovered a possible treatment for Prince Reynald of Theroc. Perhaps you would like to contact the Prince and tell him yourself?”
Osira’h smiled broadly. “Yes, yes I would. Thank you!”
“We can arrange for you to go to Theroc,” her mother said.
When Osira’h looked around, the audience chamber seemed brighter than normal. “In that case, I am ready to leave on a mission of my own.”