Page 30 of Fate of the Argosi

In retrospect, Chedran had displayed admirable restraint up until Ala’tris had used that particular word. After that? He pretty much erupted like a volcano.

‘Restitution?’ he demanded, jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would grind out sparks and set the forest ablaze.‘Restitution?You would seekrestitutionfrom a subjugated people for some perceived crime against their oppressors? We could slaughter a thousand Jan’Tep and still barely begin to—’

‘Chedran . . .’ I began gently, which didn’t help matters at all.

‘Don’t you dare pacify me,Argosi.I’m sick of you siding with everyone but your own peop—’

‘I’m pretty sure Ala’tris didn’t mean that Remeny owes the Jan’Tep restitution.’

I pointed to the coven of four mages beside her. Warring with the inevitable tension and mistrust on their faces was a look of unbridled idealism. Before I’d met Durral Brown, I’d mistook that look for gullibility. In his eyes, though, wistful romanticism was like a force of nature. An unquenchable need to prove the world was a better place than anyone wanted him to believe. Ever since, I’d sorely tried to keep a little of that faraway stare in my own eyes. ‘I think . . . I think they’re the ones intending to make restitution.’

Chedran wasn’t persuaded. ‘Restitution begins with confessing one’s crimes,’ he reminded me.

Arissa picked that moment to chime in unhelpfully. No soul on this continent as cynical as hers. ‘The snake charmer’s not wrong – for once. Those pretty words and adoring gazes between you and your little girlfriend might melt my thieving heart, but they don’t explain why she took control of that spell warrant on Remeny.’

One might’ve expected Chedran to be grateful for the support, but that would require not having met him. ‘Spirits of Fire and Fury!’ he bellowed into the darkness. ‘Are you both blind? Am I the only one who sees the obvious?’ He jabbed an accusing finger at Ala’tris. ‘Shetook hold of the dead silk mage’s spell after I rescued the runaways.’ A feral smile twisted his mouth into an ugly shape as he stalked towards Ala’tris, arms outstretched as if to show he was unarmed. I knew that smile though. I’d worn it on my own face plenty of times when facing off against a mage, knowing I had a trick up my sleeve. ‘Would you like to know how your fellow Jan’Tep died?’ he asked her.

‘Don’t even think it,’ I warned him.

Chedran stopped but didn’t turn to face me. He wanted me to know that this was a pause and not an ending to what he planned. ‘She’s been using the spell warrant to track the runaways. She knew that, sooner or later, the endless dangers facing them in the outside world would send them scurrying back to the last Mahdek enclave, unwittingly leading the enemy to our doors.’

‘I do not deny that I reshaped the other silk mage’s spell warrant,’ Ala’tris admitted, her tone calm yet respectful, her gaze steady but not challenging. ‘That is, however, only half the story. I urge you to hear the rest without allowing bigotry to blind you to the possibility that not every Jan’Tep wishes to be your enemy.’

The gal was a born diplomat all right, but there’s a reason diplomats don’t negotiate peace treaties with wild dogs. Chedran heard, but didn’t listen. Every word out of her mouth was a barely veiled admission of guilt. He stabbed his finger in the air at each of them in turn, hurling one accusation after another as if casting his own personal brand of magic. He started with Ala’tris. ‘A silk mage to sedate the Mahdek sentries.’ His arm swung towards Ba’dari, the raven-haired girl whose red and grey bands sparked instinctively when Chedran’s venomous glare startled her. ‘Blood and iron magic – the weapons of a filthy chaincaster who binds her enemies into submission.’ He saved his finest sneer for Jir’dan, who loomed behind Ala’tris, doing a poor job of hiding the fiery orange shimmer of the spell he was preparing. ‘Ember magic to incinerate his victims with gouts of fire and bolts of lightning.’ The next indictment was against Gab’rel, the short, heavy-set lad with the glimmering blue band. ‘Oh, and a touch of breath magic to spread the flames and ensure no one escapes?’

‘Would you shut up and listen for five seconds?’ I asked, hoping to at least turn his ire on me before he spooked one of these kids into firing off a spell they wouldn’t be able to take back.

‘No,’ said Sar’ephir, the statuesque woman with the shaved head who, it seemed to me, wore far more make-up than anyone so beautiful required. She stepped forward, coming to stand so close to Chedran he could’ve leaned forward and torn out her throat with his teeth. Not a shred of concern showed in her placid features. ‘Let the poor, frightened beast continue gnashing his teeth at us with this litany of insipid accusations. Heavy-handed Mahdek moral superiority always makes me nostalgic for my childhood.’

‘Sar’ephir . . .’ Ala’tris warned, but the other woman waved her concerns away.

‘Go on,’ she told Chedran.

Undeterred, he leaned in close and whispered in Sar’ephir’s ear.

‘They gonna kiss?’ Arissa asked, propping an elbow atop my shoulder. ‘Wouldn’t mind seeing if he’s any good at it, though I suppose it’s more likely he’ll chew her lip off.’

Whatever Chedran said caused the tall Jan’Tep woman to laugh. She stepped back a foot or so, then raised her fists tauntingly. ‘Shall we settle our dispute with fisticuffs, Mahdek?’ Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her hands and curled her upper lip. ‘Or would you prefer we continue baring our teeth and snarling at each other like rabid ferrets to better suit your people’s natural temperament?’

What in the name of the Way of Wind had Ala’tris been thinking, bringing this woman with her? Sar’ephir clearly had issues with the Mahdek and no concern at all about goading one into a duel. I was pretty sure the only thing stopping Chedran from slitting her throat then and there was that he knew she wanted him to make a move and he preferred going berserk on his own terms.

‘Your peace parlay is going swimmingly so far, Rat Girl,’ Arissa observed.

I didn’t respond. Idle mockery was just her way of letting me know she was waiting for my signal, since things were clearly about to get ugly.

I glanced at Ala’tris, wondering what her plan had been, summoning us through that spell warrant. She must’ve known that whoever answered would be expecting a fight. There was too much suspicion between the Mahdek and the Jan’Tep. Too much history, leading to a complete inability to perceive events from the other side’s perspective. I used to wonder how any two civilisations could go to war, when the cost of victory would always be too high no matter who won. Now though, watching the way Chedran and these Jan’Tep couldn’t seem to cool down around each other, it seemed like armed bloodshed was baked right into our bones.

Ala’tris surely knew this as well as I did, which was probably why she wasn’t meeting my eyes. Disappointment sharper than it had any right to be stabbed deep into my belly. Seeing her again, sharing that unexpected and unearned bond of sisterhood with this girl who was so unlike me and yet seemed convinced we were two of a kind . . . I wasn’t prepared for whatever betrayal was coming my way.

‘You know your problem, kid?’I could hear Durral asking. It was a memory from long ago, just a couple of months after we’d first met.

‘What now, Durral?’I’d asked. I didn’t call him Pappy back then.

‘You ain’t near gullible enough.’

When a notorious gambler informs you that your primary defect of character is a lack of gullibility, you can’t help but get suspicious.

‘See what I mean?’he asked, laughing at my dour expression.

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