Richelle Mead - The Immortal Crown

Justin nearly made a joke, but the intensity in his old friend’s gaze made him reconsider. He’s into this. He’s really into this. In any other politician, I’d say that makes him more dangerous than someone who’s just trying to reap the fame.

Any other politician? Are you saying he’s not dangerous? Asked Horatio.

That remains to be seen.

To Lucian, Justin said, “Do you have something in mind? A great hearts-and-minds-winning stunt?”

“Not a stunt.” Lucian’s eyes focused back on Justin. “But it can wait. Tell me what you need.”

“What, after a buildup like that? I can’t compete. You go first.” Lucian hesitated only briefly, took another sip, and then leaned eagerly toward Justin. “Arcadia.”

The name of the RUNA’s volatile neighbor was not what Justin had expected to hear. Composed of the southeastern part of the former United States, Arcadia had formed after the Decline when the rest of its American countrymen had banded together with Canada. Relations between the RUNA and Arcadia weren’t friendly, a situation made more difficult by the fact that Arcadia was neither advanced enough to be treated as an equal nor backward enough to be casually dismissed like other provinces. Frequent border disputes in recent years had only worsened political tensions.

“You want to take it over? Annex it?” Justin asked. “That would certainly get people’s attention.” He was mostly joking, but from the fervent look in Lucian’s eyes, Justin wondered just how extreme the senator might be willing to get.

Lucian clasped his hands together. “No. Not yet. Just go there. There’s been talk for a while between both countries about a diplomatic visit—some sort of friendly delegation going in to try to better understand our neighbors and their ways.” A bitter smile played at the edges of Lucian’s lips. “There’s been particular interest in this after rumors of the Arcadians amassing new weapons—not that I expect them to tour us around that.”

Justin parsed his words. “Us. As in you —you’d be a part of this delegation?”

“Exactly.”

Lucian settled back into the couch, face triumphant as he gauged Justin’s reaction—which was one of astonishment. “That’s crazy! People like you don’t go to Arcadia . . . or any province. You’re supposed to stay on the campaign trail, in posh hotels surrounded by bodyguards.”

“And that’s what makes this so big. There are no heroes anymore, Justin. Leaders get elected with words, not actions, and when people go to the polls, they’re usually just voting for the lesser of evils because there’s nothing better. But I intend to be better. I can’t be Mae, fighting gloriously out there on the battlefield, but I can be the first leader in the RUNA’s history to ever set foot in semi-hostile territory, unafraid to further this country’s interest. People will respect that. That’ll mean something, whereas my rivals’ words will just be . . . words.”

“See, that’s your problem right there,” said Justin, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You can put ‘semi’ in front of it, but ‘hostile’ will still get you killed.”

Lucian looked more confident than he had any right to be. “You visit plenty of hostile places. You’re still alive.”

Justin downed his drink. “I don’t go there as a public official, decked out in fanfare. I go in covertly—well-protected—and don’t always get out so smoothly.”

“Well, I’ll be well-protected too. Even the Arcadians aren’t foolish enough to think our party’d go in without our own soldiers.”

“A dozen Gemman soldiers won’t mean much if you’re surrounded by the entire Arcadian military,” Justin pointed out.

“The Arcadians won’t touch me or the people with me. They don’t trust us, sure, but they don’t want an incident. Some of them really even do want to stabilize relations between us.” Lucian stood up and began to pace. “In this case, the fanfare pays off. They can’t do anything when this is all so public. I’ll be fine. You would be fine.”

Justin had been about to stand and make another drink but now found himself momentarily frozen in place. “Me? I assume you’re speaking hypothetically.”

“It’s only hypothetical if you don’t go.”

The smug grin on Lucian’s face was maddening. Justin was used to reading the truth from people’s expressions, but he couldn’t read Lucian just then. Was this some kind of joke? No . . . the more Justin studied the other man, the more it seemed Lucian was in earnest. The question was, why?

“Give me one good reason I’d want to go with you on a suicidal trip to Arcadia,” said Justin at last.

Lucian chuckled. “Well, as I already told you, it’s not suicidal. As for a reason . . . don’t you study religion? That place is a hotbed of it— getting hotter from what I hear.”

“I study religion to protect my own country. What others do to destroy theirs is up to them.”

But as Justin spoke, a chill ran down his spine. Whereas the RUNA had renounced religion after the Decline, Arcadia had clung to it—so fiercely, in fact, that it had become intertwined with the government. The Arcadian faith was rigid and authoritarian, and the idea of it “getting hotter” was slightly terrifying. And yet, there was no question religion really was heating up in the RUNA and other parts of the world. Was the divine game—or maybe even war, at this point— active in Arcadia as well?

It would certainly be something worth looking into, said Magnus. And our master would especially be interested in knowing the state of godly affairs there.

I don’t owe him that, Justin reminded the ravens. I only answer to Internal Security, and they haven’t asked this of me. I’m not going to volunteer because Lucian wants company.

“You can bring Mae,” added Lucian unexpectedly. “Most of our security detail will be praetorians, actually.”

Justin suppressed a groan. “Is that what this is about? Unbelievable. You’d seriously go this far to get some alone time with her?”

Lucian held out his hands in an appeasing gesture. “No. Believe it or not, you’re actually the one I want more on this trip. We’ll have other cultural experts with us to help us ‘learn’ about the country. A religion expert is vital with these people—as are your observations on human nature. I don’t just want election results from this trip, Justin. I want long term results. I want to know how these people breathing down our necks think, and understanding how their superstition affects them is the key to it. There’s no one else I trust more than you to get inside their heads.”

He’s actually complimenting you, observed Horatio.

First time for everything, said Justin.

“I already have a job,” he told Lucian. “IS has assignments for me. I can’t just drop them for a field trip.”

“I think they’d spare you if I asked.”

Yes, Justin was sure they would. Especially if they sensed a supernatural threat lurking in Arcadia’s borders. But Justin still wanted no part of it. Arcadia was its own unique brand of dangerous, and Justin especially didn’t want to be tied to some much-hyped, very public trip.

“Sorry,” said Justin firmly. “I pass.”

Lucian weighed him heavily for several moments and then gave a nod, his customary smile returning. “Okay. But think on it. And if you change your mind, you’ve got a week to get in on one of the biggest international moves in this country. Now. What did you want to talk about?”

He dropped that awfully fast, thought Justin warily as he began explaining about Darius’s internship. Too fast.

Yes, agreed Horatio. He certainly did. Be careful.