Page 123 of The Sundered Realms

“You’ve told me before that one advantage of your position is you don’t have to get approval from people who are short-sighted or might make your work more difficult. “

“Risking people’s lives should be difficult,“ Vhannor said. “It should require thought and thorough examination. Governments have a responsibility to their people, and if that’s what were going on here, they would make arrangements for their people to evacuate in case Jadrhun is wrong. The only people present during this gargantuan experiment would be fully informed volunteers. They would be trained in possible contingency plans, contingency plans would exist, and if the government wasn’t doing a sufficient job to look out for their interests, people would be aware enough to protest and demand better. But there is no regulation, because there is no attempt to look out for actual, living people. That’s why, even if what Jadrhun believes is theoretically possible, he and his plans are still in the wrong.”

Liris was quiet for a moment. All true, and yet—the pieces of the pattern were coming together for her, finally, late. Jadrhun had wanted to do something that mattered. He’d been, for many intents and purposes, alone, and no one would help him.

All of a piece. The what, the why.

“What about the people who were lost in the Sundering?” Liris asked. “Did anyone look out for them?”

Vhannor’s arm around her tightened slightly, and there was a note of frustration in his voice when he said, “You think Jadrhun has convinced himself he’s justified in doing whatever it takes, because otherwise rules might prevent him? Rules should prevent him.”

“No, I agree,” Liris said. She squeezed him gently, hoping that was enough to communicate she wasn’t actually trying to make Jadrhun’s case. Always a risk of misunderstanding—on both sides—what a hypothetical question really meant. “I just... have some sympathy for having big ideas and believing you can do something, and systems preventing you from even trying.”

“That’s not the same either,” Vhannor growled. “Serenthuar limited you, but Jadrhun is going to kill people.”

“I know,” Liris said. “But I bet he would think it feels the same.”

Vhannor thudded his head back against the stone wall. His tone was exasperated. “You’re trying to understand him? It won’t help you convince him to change, Liris. That spell has already been cast.”

“You know, now that I know how dispelling works, that idiom seems much stranger than it used to.”

Vhannor looked at her seriously. “Don’t lighten this. You don’t have to empathize with someone who’s trying to hurt you.”

“Is it possible to convince a person they should want to change if you can’t empathize with them? No, sorry, let me say this clearly: that’s not actually what I’m trying to do. I’m not planning to try to change Jadrhun’s mind, or mine.”

“Then what?”

“If I can understand what drives him to make his choices, I might be able to predict them faster. If I understand the patterns of his thinking, maybe I will more easily understand the patterns of his spells. If I understand what he’s trying to accomplish, and why, I’m in a better position to understand how, and in so doing how to stop him. If I understand the differences between where we draw our lines, I’m more able to identify those differences, to adapt to his methods on the fly, because he won’t give me time to stop and think it through. So I’m doing my thinking in advance. I can understand exactly why and how he is wrong, so when I am put on the spot I can focus on acting, not thinking.”

“You’re using this time to prepare.” Vhannor managed to sound at once amused and relieved and like he wanted to punch the stone wall.

“If Serenthuar trained me in one thing,” Liris said dryly, “it’s how to prepare my mind for stressful situations.”

The door of their cell swung outward.

Liris stared at it, perplexed. That she had not been prepared for.

Vhannor appeared to have expected it, though, as he pulled her to her feet, motioned her for silence, and strode out as if they were just going about their normal business.

The priest waited in the hallway. They faced their spell pad out for the two of them to see—a variant of the spell they’d used to pass undetected in Tellianghu’s halls.

At Vhannor’s nod, the priest cast it, and said, “The protections of this place won’t register anything amiss with my spellcraft. I’ll return your pads to you once we’re outside. Follow me.”

“I have questions,” Liris said.

“You listened to me earlier,” the priest said, “so I listened to you.”

“That’s it? You’re betraying your people just because—“

The priest whirled, and the look they turned on Liris was so fierce she froze. “I betray nothing,” they whispered furiously. “If we are willing to sacrifice everything, we cannot be the change we need. We need great change, but that demands greater consideration. Not shortcuts from the outside.”

“Chaeheen won’t understand that,” Vhannor said.

They turned back to the front; not a disagreement, exactly. “She’s tired of all the suffering. But I think she will. Nevertheless, her soul is my responsibility. Your responsibility clearly lies elsewhere.”

“Wait,” Liris said.

“No,” the priest and Vhannor said together.

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