There was another silence.
I knew that, even now, I was handling him to a degree.
I’d deliberately referenced Cass as “One of the Four,” not by her name. I knew I was playing on his religious beliefs. I wasn’t trying to hide that from him, but I needed to find a way to make this less personal, less about what Cass had done to me and him.
“Revik,” I said, softer. “Would you have let me do that, if it had been Terian?”
There was another silence.
I felt the arguments forming in his mind already.
I spoke before he could voice them.
“I know what Cass did to you, baby. I know what she did to me, to Lily… but especially to you. But Teriantorturedyou. He held you captive for months. He nearly killed you. He nearly killed my brother. He raped and tortured my best friend. Hedidkill my mom. He started a war.” Swallowing, I forced my voice neutral. “We made the decision to keep him alive, in spite of that. We did that because of who and what he is. What he might mean for the world.”
Revik continued to focus down, at his feet.
“Maybe we made a mistake.” His voice came out low, a near growl. “Has that occurred to you? That I made a mistake, letting him live?”
“Yes,” I said, fighting frustration. “Of course it’s occurred to me! But what’s the answer, Revik? What do we do? Just kill anyone whomightpose a threat to us?”
When he didn’t reply, I found myself trying to answer the question on my own.
Once I did, I realized I did know what I wanted to do.
“We could leave it up to the Council,” I said.
I refolded my arms, nodded to myself, more sure after I’d said it.
“We could make a rule that any drastic measure involving one of the Four needs to be decided by Council vote,” I continued, still thinking as I spoke. “Preferably by unanimous vote, at least in terms of their senior members. That way, neither of us would have the final say. We could each make our cases to the Council, regarding recommendations and security concerns. But we give the final decision to seers with supposedly more insight. And objectivity.”
Revik looked at me, his clear eyes holding a denser scrutiny.
“You would do that?” he asked.
Turning over my own words, I nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“And if they say we should kill Cass?” he pressed.
I exhaled, staring around the small room. Focusing on the short bookshelf filled with leather-bound books, I thought about his words. But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized it was the only solution either of us would be able to live with.
“Then we kill her,” I said.
There was another silence while he thought about my words.
I watched him stare at the floor of the cell, his thoughts nearly visible inside our small construct. I knew this conversation hadn’t gone where he’d expected it to go. Hell, it hadn’t gone where I’d expected it to go, either.
I found myself watching his angular face, seeing the tiredness reflected there, a tiredness that didn’t strike me as being from a lack of sleep.
“I heard you got pulled in upstairs,” he said, his voice gruff. “Is everything okay? Did we lose anyone?”
Watching his face, I saw the guilt reflected there, along with a denser pain.
I bit my lip. “We don’t know for sure yet. But yes, it looks like it.”
“Who?”
“Ontari.”