Page 60 of Guiding Reason
“Then can we hope to have your Team Three move to Ferrea now, Conduit?”
Col smiled brightly, taking a step closer to Hyran. “Unfortunately not. And I have to confess something to all Ferrean citizens: your city is beautiful. It has enchanted me, has shown me what it means to fight for what you hold dearest, for what matters most. In fact, to keep something from Ferrea near, this Guardian will be coming with me to Argentea. Guardian Hyran came to my aid during the Battle of Starlit Stage, and when he did, he didn’t just save me from certain death. In doingso, he imprinted on me. Hyran is one of the strongest Guardians I know, and now, he is mine.”
Col put a hand on Hyran’s chest, and Hyran covered that hand with his other as their eyes met. Col’s words, even if they had been for the camera, rang in Hyran’s ears, and given the opportunity, he would have loved nothing better than to grab Col and beg him to come down his throat again.
The journalist stood speechless, mouth hanging open. Hyran hated public appearances, but he’d not missed the way the relatives, even at such a time, had brought little flags, the Grounds’ spiral of black and white, Ferrea’s single arrow, and Argentea’s three skyward pointing ones. They were waving them, even now. They were lending each other strength, hugging strangers and crying together.
While he hated cameras and journalists, Hyran knew how to act the part, just like all Guardians of a certain rank. He looked at the journalist. “I couldn’t take such a treasure as Coldis Solara away from Argentea. We are sister cities, after all. We’re planning to visit frequently. My Conduit has developed a fondness for SuSo’s Dumplings, and I foresee myself fetching those for him frequently.”
Col seemed satisfied and let himself be led away before the journalist regained his speech. An auto-drive waited for them, the Municipal AI making it stop right where it should, almost as if it were showing off. Hyran let Col get in first, then got in himself, annoyed at the lower roof of the municipal auto-drives and the generally smaller interior.
“You seemed to be enjoying this,” Hyran said once the auto-drive’s door was closed behind them.
“I don’t. But the citizens need to know what is going on. They deserve it. And they deserve something that can make them feel good. I’m sure that journalist will find out who your mothers are, and it will be what everyone talks about by the evening. Hm. Ithink I should get my office AI to send them something, say how much Team Three is looking forward to being a team with such a strong protector influence, about how we hope to learn from your and Orrey’s background. Yes, that sounds good.”
“You mean that.”
Col nodded, pressing his screen to his ear. “Boop-Beep, I want you to send a message to a journalist from the Ferrean Flicker. His name is, ah…”
Those searching eyes, asking for help. Is asking for help not trust, or the seeds of trust?
“Journalist Mikan.”
“Heard that? Yes. Talk to them about how our team is growing, and how we are especially excited to have a former protector and the son of three high-ranking protectors on it. Yamara? Don’t specifically mention him, not for this. I want to stress the protector connection and the fact that we have two imprinted Guardians on the team.” He looked at Hyran. “Correction, one. Guardian Hyran hasn’t yet responded to my offer to join our team.”
Hyran chuckled. “Do I really need to say it?”
“You do. Boop-Beep is a stickler.”
“Fine. Then…as soon as we get to Argentea, I’ll officially join Team Three.”
“Got that too? Yes, sure, send a copy to him. And my little brother. You can even ask him how much his protector training helped him with enlisting the protectors to help fight the Battle of Starlit Stage. Yes, I know that’s more responsibility than I normally give you. Yes, I’m sure you are, Boop-Beep. Hyran wants to talk to me now. Boop.”
He ended the call and slid his screen back into the pocket of the suit he was wearing, Ferrean green, Hyran realized.
“Any reason you end your calls with ‘boop’?”
“Any reason you don’t?”
“So defensive, Coldis.”
“I’m about to rile a horny insurrectionist. You want me defensive.”
Hyran’s brows drew tight. “Wrong. I want you nowhere near that man.”
“Well, that you cannot have. Take me defensive.”
Hyran put an arm around Col in the cramped space of the municipal auto-drive. It wasn’t ideal for Guardian size, but it was much safer than where they were going.
22
COLDIS
The Argentean Judiciary was a bright, airy building with lots of greenery and statues around it. It emphasized community and the good for the society of the city.
The Ferrean Judiciary had gone a different way. The building itself had been built with sharp angles, dark gray, and the windows were long vertical slits that made Col think of violence, a fight with knives or blood running from an open wound. On three sides, it was surrounded by polished walls, stone unless Col was mistaken, and there alone, white pebbles on the ground formed the backdrop for winding black paths that slithered around the Judiciary like arteries carrying poison to the heart.
“This,” Col said, standing in front of the building and grateful that Hyran was patient enough to stand with him and indulge him looking up at the black sun blotter, “is a design choice.”
