Page 42 of Vilest Things
“May I ask why?”
“Uncertain. We all assumed you wanted to go.” Venus hesitates. “To speakfrankly, I don’t think this is a good idea. San-Er is rioting, and we’re thecapital,packed with palace guards. By the time this news reaches Rincun, protest from the rural civilians won’t be all the yamen has to worry about.”
“You’re afraid of mass entry into your province,” Calla states. She has a headache emerging behind her ears.
Venus lowers her voice. “My soldiers can’t handle that. They can barely handle the province as is. Anyone entering the borderlands must pass through Rincun, and there will be plenty of people entering to make a search for the crown. It will be havoc.”
Calla resists a sigh. When it isthe divine crownup for grabs, who can say how its seekers will go about the job? They might well kill everyone in their way for the infinitesimal chance of success, as though San-Er’s annual games have expanded outside its wall and into the provinces.
“Look, Venus. Can I call you Venus?” If there is a delegation, it will likely set off at dawn. There is no time left for anything other than hurried plans. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Take your own delegation to Rincun immediately. Put out a proclamation to stay inside unless absolutely necessary. Dig into the Hailira pocketbooks and subsidize the food and rice your villages need. It won’t stop what’s unfolding, but it will prevent your soldiers from getting overwhelmed. It’ll entice the people who live in Rincun to sit at home instead of venturing into the borderlands for the crown in a desperate bid to stay afloat.”
Maybe Venus didn’t expect Calla to offer an actual alternative. It takes her a beat to register Calla’s words. Another long beat before she nods slowly, then more vigorously.
“All right,” she says. “How—how long do I do that for?”
Calla shakes her head. She’s got to go. She has business of her own to tend to.
“Don’t make me draw up all your plans.”
“But Highness”—as Calla tries to circle past her, Venus holds her arm outwith more to say—“the entirety of Talin should enact this, if it is something councilmembers can manage. You should speak at the meeting.”
There is such hope in Venus Hailira’s voice. Calla tries to imagine how such an initiative would look. The farms settling into stillness. The village wells unattended.
“Be realistic, Venus. What will San-Er eat if Eigi is pushed into containment? You can do this because you are Rincun, and that is all. Get your delegation and go. You’re out of time.”
Before Venus can object, Calla pushes past her arm and hurries down the hallway again, resuming her quick pace. She makes only one detour: her sword, retrieved from the vault. She’s lucky she hasn’t done anything to draw the palace’s suspicion quite yet, because the guards let her in and out without a problem. At some point, she’s going to need to return the valuables she stole too, because it certainly doesn’t look like she’s leaving now.
She isn’t leaving, but sheisgoing to the borderlands with the palace delegation.
The very thought drives a nail through her skull. Calla may as well be banging her head repeatedly against the wall.There’s no reason to do this,the sensible part of her says, the part that kept her tucked away for five years preparing a successful assassination, single-minded in her mission. Then blind annoyance overpowers everything else, and her ears are ringing with white noise, clearing for nothing except:Anton, Anton, Anton. You know what,fuckyou. I’ll show you. You’ll see.
She glances over her shoulder. The corridors have cleared. Her sword hangs off her hip with a weight she’s grown unaccustomed to. Significant time has passed since the games. Bearing the weapon again takes her back to her early days, trying to adjust to the way it brushes against the leather of her trousers.
Calla turns the handle to her rooms and slinks in, letting the door thud after her. Despite the measured manner of her movements, its echo is loud, foreboding, the toll of a funeral bell.
Leida looks up from the other end of the bedroom, still tied to the pipe.
“You’ll be glad to hear that the cities are a mess, I’m sure,” Calla says casually. “Riots all around the palace. Our divine crown is a fake and has no ability to determine the mandate of the heavens. Otta Avia declared that the true one is lost somewhere in the borderlands.”
Leida reacts to her words woodenly. She doesn’t appear surprised, and Calla thinks,Of course. If she was watching Otta long enough to learn about her control over qi, she must have also learned about the divine crown. She might even have known about it earlier, gleaning any information she could from August to eventually turn on him.
“I’m surprised it’s taken this long for the kingdom to find out.”
“Yes, well”—Calla breathes out, rubbing the corners of her eyes vigorously until her blurred vision clears—“as much as San-Er has left behind its belief in the old gods, it sure still believes in the cosmic determination of the heavens. Either that, or they’ve been waiting for a reason to riot after years of Kasa.”
Leida doesn’t respond. She’s trained her gaze on a spot over Calla’s shoulder, and she keeps it there.
“I passed a few guards on my way out of the vault,” Calla continues. She knows what will trigger a response. “The palace has given the instruction to execute anyone found jumping in the cities at this time.”
Leida meets her eyes in a snap. Only then does a line of shock finally crumple her brow.
“That’s excessive.”
Calla shrugs. “The palace has to make an example out of them somehow. They’re already afraid of the Crescents’ abilities, given recent circumstances. You caused this.”
“I caused nothing.” Offense crawls into Leida’s voice. She prickles, evidently, at the accusation. “I only gave back knowledge that was rightfully theirs.”
The more Calla tries to use logic on what is unfolding before them, themore her head hurts. She wouldn’t put it past Kasa and his forefathers to lie to the kingdom. If an enemy came knocking on San-Er’s door and obliterated the wall, King Kasa would have looked directly into a broadcast camera and insisted the brick formation remained standing. Still, to succeed in erasing decades of collective memory entirely is not only absurd, but wholly different from telling a lie that the people pretend to believe. For as long asCallahas been alive, it has been a given rule within Talin that jumping causes a flash of visible light and requires close proximity. If this hasn’t always been the case, how long ago was the truth concealed?
