Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (62 page)

Carefully casual, she asked, “She’s going to try to get pregnant again right away?”

“Yeah. Elkan didn’t want to help her anymore, but she finally talked him into it. He’s not going to tell her the sex of any future babies, and she promised she’d never risk ending one if there was a chance it was a girl.”

That was it. The conflict between the wizards and the Matriarch she’d been looking for. Nirel saw the whole thing laid out before her, clear and simple and obvious.

She had to make sure her idea would work. She let herself shudder. “Poor little boy. You said you looked at him afterward? Did the Matriarch? I’d think she’d want to, just to make sure Elkan hadn’t made a mistake.”

“I don’t know. Not after we got there. You couldn’t tell from the outside yet, anyway. Elkan could sense how he was developing internally with the Mother’s power, but he didn’t show me what to look for. He was very certain, though.”

Better and better. Now to distract him before he got suspicious. “I guess it’s for the best. She really does need a daughter. The Faithful certainly don’t want the Purifiers to come to power; that would be a disaster for us.”

“Indeed,” Gevan said. “They’ve vowed to expel your people the way they did in Marvanna.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose this doesn’t make much difference. It will just be a little longer before Ramunna is safe from them.”

Nirel nodded along with the others. He was wrong, of course. This made all the difference. She couldn’t wait to report to Elder Davon.

Gevan made them clean up the samples, but with both of them working together it went quickly. Nirel picked up her cloak and hat. “I guess this is good-bye. For good, I mean.”

Josiah came to stand by her. “It doesn’t have to be. I could come to the Quarter with Nalini sometimes.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Nirel waved vaguely. “Your time’s much better spent healing people who want your power. Besides, it would be awkward. Faithful young women aren’t allowed to be around young men. Now that I can’t spy for Elder Davon, he’ll expect me to obey that Ordinance.”

“Won’t Vigorre have something to say about that?” Josiah looked at her strangely.

She swallowed. “It’s over between us. He can’t marry someone who’s Faithful, and I can’t marry someone who’s not. It was only a ploy to give Elder Davon influence over Keeper Emirre, anyway.”

He stepped closer to her. “You didn’t have feelings for him?”

“I did, but…” She shrugged and looked away. “Not anymore.”

He took a deep breath. “Then I definitely want to see you again.”

She balled her fists. “There’s no point. From now on I’m committing myself fully and openly to the Faithful. I’m cutting off all ties to anything outside. Including you.”

He reached for her hands but she evaded his grasp. “I don’t care that you’re Faithful.”

“I care that you aren’t.” She quirked a smile at him to soften her rejection. “Besides, I thought you were interested in Kevessa.”

“She’s not interested in me. For a while I thought she was, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Anyway, I liked you first.”

“I liked you, too, Josiah, but that was back in Tevenar. Things are different now. Even if we could have made something work there, we can’t here.”

His face took on the stubborn look she was so familiar with. “You could come back to Tevenar with us when we finish our work here.”

It was all Nirel could do to keep her secret knowledge off her face. “I’ll never go back to Tevenar. I’m Faithful. That’s all that matters.”

“This doesn’t?”

She knew as he leaned closer what he intended. She could have stepped away or pushed him back, but she let him put his arms around her and bend to press his lips to hers. He might not believe her words, but he’d have to believe her body. She forced herself not to respond to the warm pressure of his kiss, even though it stirred aching, longing sensations deep inside. She made herself into a serene white Ordinance scroll floating amidst the swirling chaos of the draperies, untroubled by their agitated passion.

After a moment Josiah backed off with an exasperated sigh. “All right, I get it. You’ve made your choice, and nothing I say or do is going to change your mind.” He stuck out his hand. “I guess this really is good-bye.”

“Yes.” Nirel extended her hand and he grasped it in the Tevenaran manner, warm but impersonal. “I hope you have a good life.”

He snorted. “Yeah. You, too.” He released her hand and stepped back.

Nirel slung the cloak around her shoulders, plopped the hat on her head, grabbed her bundle of books, and pushed through the door. She hurried out of Gevan’s apartment and down the stairs to the dark street.

Angrily she dashed away the tears that insisted on forming. Too many things had ended today, that was all. It was time to set a new beginning in motion.

Thirty-Seven

V
igorre stared across the table at Elder Davon and Nirel, listening numbly as Nirel outlined her plan. Her eyes were bright and her voice animated; her hands gestured in eager counterpoint to her words.

A cold weight settled in the pit of his stomach. Her idea would work; that much was obvious. The Matriarch couldn’t possibly ignore this offense by the wizards. Her rage would be terrible. All they had to do was convince her the wizards had committed it.

That would be Vigorre’s task.

Next to him Keeper Yoran leaned forward, his eyes intent on Nirel. When she finished speaking she looked at Yoran expectantly.

He nodded sharply. “Yes. We will pursue this course. I have one addition, however. You couldn’t have known this would be possible, but it will complement your suggestion perfectly.” He gestured to one of the Purifier Keepers seated down the table from Vigorre. “Fetch the wise woman Yerenna.”

The Keeper rose and hurried to do Yoran’s bidding. Yoran turned to Davon. “Yerenna has long been one of my agents. She’s prevented Verinna from bearing an heir for many years, without ever arousing her suspicion. Verinna trusts her completely. With both her report and Vigorre’s, which will seem independent of each other, Verinna will have no choice but to believe.”

Vigorre’s heart sank further. He’d been toying with the idea of sabotaging the plan, manufacturing some reason to fail that wouldn’t betray his conflicted loyalties to Yoran and Davon. But now that was impossible. It would go forward even without his participation.

Davon’s eyes lit up. “An excellent idea. Let us take it even further. Nirel can bring yet a third confirmation of our story to the Matriarch.” He nodded to Vigorre’s father, who sat beside Keeper Yoran. “Keeper Emirre, can you ensure that anyone who knows Nirel resided in your home for the past week remains silent?”

Father inclined his head. “My household obeys my instructions.”

“Good. That will allow us to construct a plausible account of how Nirel learned of the wizards’ nefarious plans and how they held her captive to prevent her from warning the Matriarch.”

Everyone around the table seemed immensely pleased as they hammered out the details of what each witness would say. Vigorre plastered a fake smile on his face and tried not to disrupt the mood of enthusiasm which infected the others.

This was wrong. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t shake the conviction. He wanted to believe Nirel’s encounter with the demons had happened. He wanted to trust that his father and Keeper Yoran were following the Mother’s will. He wanted to keep pretending that all the good the wizards had done was an act, part of their cover story, sweet bait with poison at its heart.

But what he’d at first thought was a simple truth kept getting more complex and far-fetched. Every time he learned something that seemed to undermine what Nirel or Yoran or Davon had told him, they countered with another reasonable-sounding explanation. He could accept each individually, but together they stretched his credulity to the breaking point.

The wizards’ story had never changed. Now as always they maintained their devotion to the Mother and their desire to serve her. Every day he witnessed them doing exactly that. What more would it take to convince him? The testimony of the Mother herself?

That hadn’t been enough, either.

Fear paralyzed him. He was no longer sure he’d been right to choose the Purifiers over the wizards, but he couldn’t face what it would mean if he’d been wrong. He needed more time to watch and think. If he stalled long enough maybe something would happen that would prove beyond all doubt that one side or the other was right. Then he wouldn’t have to choose based solely on what his heart told him.

But he could wait no longer. Tonight if he did nothing the Purifiers and Dualists would triumph. Only if he actively opposed them, if he went immediately to the wizards and told them everything, would their attempt to conquer both Tevenar and Ramunna fail.

Far too quickly the discussion was over. The wise woman arrived, absorbed Yoran’s instructions, and vanished into the night. Nirel gave Elder Davon a hug and slipped away without looking at Vigorre.

Father grasped his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re counting on you, Vigorre.”

“Yes, sir.”

Father’s grip tightened. “I know you won’t let us down.”

“No, sir.” Vigorre hoped his voice didn’t sound as hollow as he felt.

Father gave him one last searching glance and released him with a little push toward the door. Vigorre stumbled into the night.

The house where the emergency meeting had been held was in a sketchy district that bordered the Beggars’ Quarter. Vigorre wound through the narrow, twisty lanes toward the main road, his feet dragging. Darkness and quiet closed in around him.

Mother, tell me what to do
, he silently prayed. But no answer came. He hadn’t expected one. This was his choice, something he must decide of his own free will. Nothing was more sacred to the Mother. She wouldn’t violate it even if the future of the world and all her people were at stake.

He thought about what would happen if Nirel’s plan succeeded. The Matriarch would erupt in fury against the wizards. At best she’d seize and imprison them, at worst have them tortured and executed. She’d order the Armada to sail against Tevenar, which by all accounts lacked any defenses. The wizards there would be swiftly overthrown, probably exterminated. Once again the Mother’s power, if that’s truly what the wizards wielded, would vanish from the world. This time forever.

He couldn’t shake the image of all those diabetic children waking from their deadly slumber. What had the demons, if that’s what they were, gained from that? He could argue that it hadn’t been the demons’ work at all, but Gevan and Nalini and Josiah’s, none of whom knew the truth. But Sar had helped with their research. And Tobi had participated in what Elkan and Josiah had done on the ship.

No one had witnessed those miraculous events except those already committed to the demon’s cause. And him. Maybe it had all been done to persuade him.

He laughed bitterly. He wasn’t the Matriarch; he didn’t believe the whole world revolved around him.

The Marvannan Keeper hadn’t worried where the power came from, only what it did. Seshone was just the kind of Keeper he’d always aspired to be. He truly cared for the Mother’s children and spent his life serving them the best he could.

Who would he rather become, if he had the choice? Seshone or Yoran?

It couldn’t be that simple, though. Seshone might be kind and good, and Elkan and Josiah, too, but that didn’t mean they weren’t deceived. Demons by their very nature were liars. How could he be
sure
he wasn’t falling into an elaborate trap?

He couldn’t, he realized. Not tonight. Not soon enough to inform the choice he had to make.

Whatever decision he made would be a gamble. He had to lay his money on one side of the table or the other. The cards would determine whether he won or lost.

The thought gave him a strange sense of peace. He didn’t have to be sure, after all. In gambling there were no sure things. He only had to decide which side had better odds. Not which story was true, only which was more likely to be true.

Relief burst in a warm rush through his chest. Of course the simple explanation was more likely to be true than the complicated one. That was an age-old maxim. They even had a saying at the University: If you see clouds, expect rain, not hail.

His dragging steps quickened. Finally he could follow his heart. He hoped the wizards would believe that this time he was telling the truth.

* * *

Nirel sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. Yerenna should have had long enough to prepare. Now it was her turn.

She broke out of cover and rushed across the courtyard to the palace gate. “Please! I have to speak to the Matriarch right away!”

The guards jerked to alert, moving their pikes to block her. “Stop right there, girl. Who are you and what do you want?”

Nirel let her words tumble out in a breathless stream. “My name is Nirel, the Matriarch knows me. I discovered that the wizards are planning something terrible and they locked me up! I just escaped.”

The guards exchanged glances. One of them grabbed her arm. “You’re accused of treason. We’re placing you under arrest.”

“What? No!” Nirel jerked wildly but failed to break free. “I have to warn the Matriarch! Take me to her right now! It’s about her baby!”

The guards muttered to each other, scowling. The one holding her said, “Very well. She’ll want to hear what you have to say.” He hustled her into the palace and called for more guards to assist him, never releasing his grip.

Nirel continued to feign frantic agitation, but inside she gloated. She’d pulled it off perfectly. Now she just had to convince the Matriarch as thoroughly as she’d fooled the guards.

They led her to a small bare room not far from the dining hall. One guard hurried to fetch the Matriarch while three stayed with her. Nirel almost laughed at the way they kept their hands near their weapons and watched her like hawks.

Only a few minutes passed before the Matriarch swept into the room, accompanied by more guards. One closed the door behind her as she looked at Nirel coldly. “So you’ve decided to turn yourself in.”