Page 45 of Heir

Aiz sat up, staring at her hands, her feet. They were filthy—the Tohr had always been so dark that she’d not gotten a good look at her own limbs in weeks. She tried to get her bearings. They weren’t far from the docks of the city. She could see the masts in the distance. They must be west of the harbor.

A soft whoosh drew her attention as a Sail passed in front of the cave. A few minutes later, Cero trudged in on foot. His dark hair was still a mess, his pale gaze hooded.

He set a pack before her, and a pair of thin shoes. He didn’t look at her. Perhaps because she’d treated him so terribly before being captured. Now she didn’t know why she’d been so angry. It wasCero. Unpredictable as mountain weather and about as friendly—to most people, anyway. But Aiz had seen him feed alley cats scraps before eating himself, had felt his cool hand at her brow when she was fevered. In the blooming spring of the new year, he lit candles for his dead father, forAiz’s mother, and for the parents of all the orphans in the cloister.

And she’d turned on him. Her skin burned in shame, thinking of it. Perhaps if she’d asked for his help with the assassination, they would have succeeded.

“You don’t have much time.” He offered her the shoes, and she laced them on. “Tiral left for the north a few days after you went to the Tohr. He was sick of raiding Struri and Diyane and wanted a bigger prize.”

“How many Snipes dead?”

“Too many. He’s had the army wreaking havoc for weeks. The enemy has fallen, and he’s left most of the army up there. He’s on his way back to crow about his victory, and he’s ordered a gathering at the Aerie. He’s insisting the clerics attend.”

“It’s to announce that he’s the Tel Ilessi.” Aiz was certain of it.

“The clerics would have to declare him so,” Cero said. “And the Triarchs would never agree. He’d have to prove his power—that he was bloodsmither, windsmither, and mindsmither. He could never—”

“He won’t need the Triarchs. And he wouldn’t have to prove his power,” Aiz said. “Not if High Cleric Dovan vouches for him. Which she will. He jailed a hundred more clerics in the Tohr. A quarter of the clergy. He’s left her no choice, and when she declares for him, the people will believe her. Because she’s their High Cleric.”

Understanding dawned in Cero’s eyes. “No one can manipulate those with faith like a person who has none,” he said. “We underestimated his cunning.”

“I have to stop him,” Aiz said. “I failed before, but Mother Div is with me now. This is my calling. Can you get me a Sail big enough to challenge him?”

“You can’t face Tiral.” Cero paced in agitation. “Especially not on a Sail. You saw his power. You nearly died because of it.”

“Holy Div did not let me die in the Tohr. She will not let me die now.”

“I know you think Div communicated with you.” Cero spoke morecarefully than Aiz was used to. It irked her. “But you got yourself out of that prison, Aiz. You’re stronger than you think.”

“You must believe me, Cero. I have been chosen. Mother Div came to me and to you. How else did you know to meet me on the mountain?”

“Just a feeling. Never mind that now.” Cero knelt before her. “Look at me, Aiz,” he said, and as she met his gaze, she lost her breath. She had not looked openly into Cero’s eyes in so long that she’d nearly forgotten their strange color, a deep green that mirrored the sea on days when it appeared calm but was something else entirely.

“I believe you heard Div’s voice,” Cero said. “I will help you however I can, but you must leave Kegar. I do not think it is Div’s intention that you remain here. The Lady of the Air was many things, and a fool wasn’t one of them. The legends say that she, too, left our people for a time.”

An old story the clerics rarely told, as it was not in one of the Sacred Tales. Aiz couldn’t recall it in full. She was surprised Cero even knew of it.

“I’m meant to save our people from Tiral’s machinations, Cero. Not run away. Mother Div said—”

“We don’t have time to argue.” Cero looked out at the sea. “I should be patrolling the northern border right now. If I’m discovered missing right when you escape, they’ll assume I helped you. Tiral knows that I—that we’re friends.”

“Friends,” Aiz said softly. In the months before Cero had been chosen as a pilot, her relationship with him, as solid and reliable as the walls of the cloister, had changed. Touches that had felt casual no longer were; she’d found herself watching him more, and when his stormy eyes locked on hers, she felt heat ripple through her marrow.

And then the night before he became a pilot—that kiss. She still felt it. Aiz thought if they were both selected to fly, they could talk about it. But that never happened.

Cero pulled Aiz to standing and she followed his attention to the coast. Through the gloom, a ship approached.

It was preternaturally silent, as if the creak of rigging and groan of wood had been swallowed up. It appeared nameless, the deck looked empty, and Aiz couldn’t tell if the vessel was real or if exhaustion had her hallucinating. But then she saw the ship’s sail, a deep forest green with an enormous eye painted on it.

An Ankanese ship.

“There’s a seer on that ship,” Aiz said. The Ankanese only flew a green sail to warn off pirates. Any approach by any nation would be viewed as an act of war.

And no nation would be thoughtless enough to test the Ankanese. Their navy and siege machines were powerful, their seers even more so. Most attacks on them had been turned away before they began. The Kegari didn’t cross them—the Ankanese were the only foreigners they traded with, and their language was the only foreign language spoken in Kegar. Aiz had learned it fluently, like all the other cloister children.

“I know the seer.” Cero nodded at the ship. “She’s visited Kegar for years. A few days ago, she sent me a message. Told me I’d have need of her. Just now, I went to find her. The ship was waiting, ready to depart. I made sure Tregan was aboard.”

Aiz spun toward him, heart leaping in hope.

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