Onyx & Ivory

She would never know for sure, but in the last few days she couldn’t deny Hale’s involvement with the Rising. Just last night she’d attended a secret meeting in the basement of the Sacred Sword. More than half of the people there had spoken to her about her father—some to offer condolences and others criticisms of his failure.

It seemed to her that the Rising was divided in all things, opinions on her father included. For more than an hour she listened to Raith arguing that they needed to be cautious, to explore every avenue to end the Inquisition without bloodshed. But another leader in the rebellion, an earthist named Francis, argued the opposite.

“The time to strike is now. Rime is already in turmoil,” Francis had said, his voice teetering toward a shout. “Whoever is behind these daydrakes will continue to lay the blame on us until nowhere is safe. We need to defend ourselves before it’s too late. The plan is already in place. We just need to act.”

The plan, it seemed, was to seize control of Farhold, the only city in Rime capable of being fully self-sustaining. The Rising would claim the city for themselves and use it to force the high king to end the persecution.

Afterward Kate had asked Raith, “Won’t many innocent people in Farhold die during the siege?”

A grave look crossed his face. “If it comes to war, then yes. Violence is an inevitable consequence. But I would ask you, what is worse? A handful of people dying in this siege, or hundreds of innocent wilders being kidnapped and executed, one at a time, for years to come?” He faced her then, placing a hand on her arm, his voice tremulous with emotion. “This is why I so desperately need your help, Kate. You’ve a strong influence with Corwin, and goddess be good, he will win the uror over his brother. If you can help him see the truth about us, then maybe he will use his authority as high king to end the Inquisition before any blood is shed.”

“You don’t know Corwin very well,” Kate said, feeling a knot in her throat. I have no influence over him. She might’ve if she’d agreed to be his paramour, but she’d closed that door and had no intention of opening it again. Unwilling to discuss such matters with Raith, though, she said instead, “He hates wilders.”

“I’m not certain that’s true. Though even if it is, his feelings are nothing compared to those of his brother, and his high council.” Raith made a look of disgust. “Edwin appears evenhanded, but Master Storr has told me that the hatred in him runs deep. In his mind every wilder must pay for his mother’s death. Since taking over for his father, he’s done everything he can to expand the Inquisition’s power and refocus the League’s priorities on capturing wilders. Did you know Maestra Vikas allows him to attend the Purgings in Norgard?”

Kate thought she might be sick. It was one thing to fear wilders or even to suspect them all capable of the same harm that caused Queen Imogen’s death, but to want to watch them die? That was something else.

“Corwin cares for you,” Raith continued. “That’s plain for anyone to see. And I believe he’s wise enough to see past his prejudices against wilders, if given the chance. He only needs to realize that wilders are equally as capable of good as of evil. The man who set the fire that killed his mother wasn’t part of the Rising—we never had the chance to recruit him. So many slip through our fingers. The Rising works hard to keep wilders from ever using their powers to harm, although we don’t always succeed. Such is the result of a country in which prejudice divides us, forces us into hiding, threatens our families. Corwin might be able to see this truth; he just needs to be shown by someone he trusts.”

Kate didn’t reply, although she wanted to believe him—that the Rising didn’t want to spread fear and violence, that their only cause was to win the freedom to live in peace. At her silence, Raith had attempted a new tactic to convince her, by offering her a way to keep Bonner’s magic hidden from the League and to allow him to finally make his revolvers. Once she’d gotten over her shock at how much the master magist knew, she’d agreed to his plan. It was for that very reason they’d been in Bonner’s workshop when Corwin had appeared a short time before with news of the attack on Dal’s home.

And now Raith’s convinced me to use my powers to try to find whoever is behind the daydrake attacks. I must be mad.

Kate shook her head, wishing she could dislodge these worries from her mind by force.

“Are you all right?” Bonner said. It was just the two of them in his workshop now. Signe was off somewhere with Dal, and Raith had left shortly after Corwin with a promise to return so as to help Kate continue to develop her ability to use her magic on humans—a skill she would need to track down whoever was controlling the daydrakes. But she didn’t want to do it, no matter how important. All her life, her magic had been simple: a way to talk to animals, to influence them. Innocent, harmless. But using it on humans? That made it infinitely more powerful—and dangerous.

Realizing she’d been silent too long, Kate glanced at Bonner, a weak smile coming to her lips. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“I know how you feel.” Bonner grimaced, the expression out of place on him. He held up the magestone necklace Raith had given him before departing. A diamond the size of a marble hung from a leather cord. “Do you really think this will shield my magic from the magists?”

Fortunately, Raith had also told Bonner about the Rising and his part in it, thereby allowing Kate to discuss it without the risk of activating the binding curse. “I don’t see why Raith would lie about it, or even give it to us for that matter if it weren’t going to work. That diamond must cost more money than either of us will ever have in both our lifetimes combined.”

“Good point.” Bonner fastened it around his neck, then spoke the incantation, activating the spell within. The cord was long enough that the diamond hung halfway down his chest. He tucked it into his tunic, out of sight. Then he picked up one of the half dozen revolvers lying on the worktable. These were the rejects, the ones with too many imperfections to work properly. Balancing the gun on one hand, he placed his other on top of it.

Hesitating, he looked at Kate. “This feels wrong.”

“You don’t have to do it.” She walked over to him, cupping his hands with hers. “You could tell Corwin that this was all a mistake and leave Norgard. Go back to Farhold and live out your life without these troubles.”

“Would you come with me?” Bonner fixed a penetrating stare on her.

A week ago she could’ve said yes. But not now. Not with Kiran. Every day she’d gone to see him, trying to catch up on all the years stolen from her. He was the only family she had left. She wasn’t about to give him up now that she’d found him.

She shook her head and dropped her hands from Bonner’s. “I can’t leave Kiran. He’s living in a cage, Bonner. It’s awful. Something must be done.”

“I know. And that’s why I’m going to stay too. If I can finally make enough revolvers, and Corwin can eliminate the drakes, I will have saved the world. Then maybe afterward he’ll be so grateful that I can tell him the truth about my gift.”

Remembering Raith’s words from last night, Kate slowly nodded.

Bonner adjusted his grip on the gun and closed his eyes. Although Kate couldn’t sense anything, she understood that he was probing the metal with his magic, purging it of dents and impurities, smoothing out the places it had gone wrong.

“Done,” he said a moment later. They both waited, half expecting a gold robe to come bursting through the door to arrest them. When several moments went by and nothing happened, Bonner shrugged and said, “I guess it worked.” He set down the revolver and picked up the next one.

“Wait, Bonner.” Kate touched his arm. “You can’t make too many at once. The reason why Raith knew what you are is because of the questions people are asking about why only your revolvers work and no one else’s.”

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