Will Wight - Of Dawn and Darkness

More often than not, it stood for the Sleepless.

The old man laughed, and his people advanced. In Andel’s arms, the boy had gone limp with defeat.

“It’s not as bad as you think, friends,” the old man said. “Don’t despair!”

From past the end of the dock, a deep, male voice echoed over the water. “DESPAIR!” Shuffles shouted.

The sound reminded him of the presence of his ship. He stretched his mind out, a Soulbound calling for his Vessel. He could sense The Testament at this distance, but it was futile; while most Soulbound could draw power from their Vessels, his ship had no power to give. He could only control it, which was no help from so far away.

So he moved his Intent down, through the chains, to the place where the Lyathatan rested on the harbor floor. As clearly as he could, Calder called for aid.

The Elder gave no sign that it had heard Calder’s call. It sat still, hunger and ambition and wariness and calculation all swirling in its ancient mind. As Calder and his crew were dragged away, it simply watched.

And waited.

Calder lounged in a copper bathtub filled to bursting with noxious green sludge. Pain slid away from his wounds and muscles loosened as the alchemical substance healed damage he didn’t even know he’d taken. Every breath burned the inside of his nose and made his eyes water, but the alchemists had insisted he breathe it in; even the fumes of this concoction played a vital role in his recovery.

He might have enjoyed it, if he wasn’t using all of his attention to pretend that Jarelys Teach wasn’t standing right next to him.

“We have been given some time. The Head of the Blackwatch reports that the damage to the sky shouldn’t be visible for another two or three days, which gives us at least two days to craft an official response. We would like to have you use the Optasia immediately, but it’s being inspected for damage by as many trustworthy experts as we could scrape up.”

Calder had wondered. After the fight that had activated the Emperor’s throne, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the device was warped into scrap metal. “I could check it myself, if you’re worried about confidentiality.”

“Not Readers,” Jarelys said sharply. She had been carrying a bundle of letters, which crumpled in her grip. “You activate the Optasia by Reading it, so we’re forced to rely on ordinary alchemists, engineers, and historians. It’s slow going.”

It had never occurred to Calder to imagine how difficult it would be to investigate the history of an object without Reading. How would you even do it? Look for minute clues, he supposed, like the archived accounts of those who assembled the Optasia’s network, maybe examine the structure of the throne for scuffs and scrapes. It sounded tedious.

“As for your attacker …” Her voice grew grim, and she shifted position on her stool as though she suspected an assassin to be sneaking past her at that moment. “We have confirmed that he was a Champion. As far as we can tell, he was in good standing with the Guild, though records have been spotty at best.”

“Arrange a meeting with the Head of the Champion’s Guild,” Calder ordered. “He can answer for the actions of his men.”

Teach’s cold eyes slid over to him, disapproval written on her face. He slipped deeper into the opaque green fluid. He knew he shouldn’t have used that tone with her, but if he was ever going to start being Emperor, shouldn’t it be now?

With anyone else, he could have faked the authority and confidence he needed. He wasn’t shy by nature, and taking command was largely a matter of self-assurance. But Teach was the woman who had killed his father.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t even make himself believe she would follow his orders.

She didn’t release him from her icy gaze as she spoke. “As it happens, I have already arranged for a meeting with Baldesar Kern in a few days. It will be your first unofficial business as Imperial Steward.”

Just hearing his newfound title pleased him, even if it wasn’t quite as impressive as “Emperor.” He’d get there.

“Thank you, General Teach.” Should he still address her by title, or should he be calling her Jarelys, to emphasize his new social standing? He’d have to decide later.

She stood. “I must plan your security for the next week, but I have guards posted outside of every window and the door. They will respond if you need anything.”

“I’m certain I’ll survive my bath without assistance.” The alchemists had prescribed a full morning of soaking in the tub, which he had already suffered since dawn.

Before leaving the room, Teach paused as though she’d forgotten something. “The Emperor never had a moment of privacy. Get used to it now.”

Calder winced as she left. He had thought he’d covered up his discomfort nicely, but it seemed she’d noticed nonetheless.

“You kept sliding in deeper,” Meia said. “It gives you away. If you wanted her to think you were comfortable, you should have feigned sleep.”

Calder froze, very carefully not sliding any deeper into the sludge. His brief, panicked reaction was to scream for the Imperial Guards, but he stopped himself just in time. He’d decided to trust Meia, if only because she’d saved his life. Hopefully, if he showed her enough trust, she wouldn’t kill him.

But how many people were going to barge in on his medical bath?

“Did Teach know you were here?”

She walked around in front of the tub, taking the Guild Head’s stool. Meia was dressed all in black, as always, with black cloth covering her mouth and nose. She didn’t look at Calder as she spoke, her eyes flicking from entrance to entrance as though she expected another Champion to come barging through. “I’m afraid that she wouldn’t welcome me back. She might not kill me if she recognized me, but she would likely have me detained.”

She had said something about growing up in the Imperial Palace. He hadn’t pried into it at the time, but now he was much more interested.

“Why would she recognize you?” Calder asked carefully.

Meia’s eyes blinked orange for a fraction of a second, and just as he was starting to wonder if he was in danger, she answered. “This pertains to the security of the Imperial Palace, not to the Guild, so I suppose you’re authorized to know. You would find out eventually. Either Teach would tell you, or someone else would get around to it.”

Calder leaned forward, intrigued. “Don’t worry. I won’t repeat anything you say outside this room.”

“If the information was so sensitive that it couldn’t be leaked, I wouldn’t tell you,” she said, so matter-of-factly that it was a little insulting. “When I was young, I was assigned to the Emperor’s security detail. We were a discreet unit protecting the Emperor from behind, just as the Imperial Guards protected him from the front.”

Three figures in black had once tackled him during his audience with the Emperor. He had barely given them any thought at the time, but one had been a blond girl about his age.

“So we’d met before the dead island.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but the memory of his father’s execution dredged up a world of pain. If Meia hadn’t held him back, he would have lunged at the Emperor. Maybe Calder would have gotten his revenge.

No, I would have been torn to pieces. From a certain point of view, Meia had unintentionally saved his life back then.