“Neither Hedra nor Pyra suffered as Saska did, though—”
“Saska suffered because she fought the orders she was being given. Neither her mother nor Pyra did.” Trey’s voice was grim. “I very much doubt the children would even be capable of it.”
There was no doubt about it—Saska had already told me that any child that showed any sort of self-awareness was killed. I was only arguing because I just didn’t want to do what I knew I would have to.
I scrubbed my hands across my eyes, smearing tears. “Have you still got the bracelet you took from your daughter?”
He frowned at the sudden change of topic. “Yes—it’s in my backpack. Why?”
I shrugged. “I just wanted to ensure it was safe.”
Before he could question me further, Kiro approached. “I’ve called in all available healers and medics from both the Lower Reaches and the outer bailey to cope with whatever levels of sickness might eventuate here in the Upper Reaches over the next twenty-four hours. I’ve also ordered an immediate meeting of the Forum.” His gaze came to mine. “You’ll have to report everything you’ve uncovered.”
“I won’t reveal my capabilities,” I said. “I’m not going to end up as little more than a serf or a damn breeder after all this is finished.”
Amusement touched his lips. “Oh, I think there’s little chance of that happening.”
“I don’t care how small the risk, I won’t do it.”
“Fair enough.” He glanced at Trey. “You’ll also be asked to report.”
“My father will just love that.”
His voice was dry, but once again, hurt shadowed the deeper recesses of his eyes. I guessed a man who’d given up everything for his child couldn’t understand his own parent not offering any level of understanding or forgiveness.
“Your father officially retired from the Forum six months ago, and won’t be present,” Kiro said. “Karl’s daughter is now acting second.”
Trey took this news with very little change in his expression, and yet I felt the annoyance—perhaps even anger—flick through him. Obviously, the rift between father and son was now so wide his brother had feared to pass on such a vital piece of information.
But better that than being in the situation of learning who your mother was only after you’d killed her….
I crossed my arms and thrust the thought away. I wouldn’t have changed my actions even if I had known Hedra was my mother, so why dwell over it? “And what’s being done about the water?”
“Engineers are on their way, and a code red alert has been issued across the Upper Reaches,” Kiro said. “Given it’s been three hours since the toxin was added to the water supply, I’ve also called out the guard to do a house by house check of inhabitants to uncover the current state of play in regard to illnesses or even deaths.”
In other words, they were currently doing all they could. We all just had to hope it would be enough.
“Neve, I know you’re soaked to the skin,” he continued, “but I’d rather you remain in your current clothes. It’ll add a sense of urgency to proceedings.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning they’ll take a bedraggled woman more seriously than they would a Nightwatch officer?”
“Yes, especially when you’re introduced as Trey’s second.” He glanced around as three men entered the pump room. “Ah, good. You’ve been apprised of the situation?”
The big man who’d entered first nodded. “We’ve got a second team closing down all the supply valves as we speak. We’re here to fix the pumps so the tower can be emptied and flushed out.”
“Excellent.” Kiro’s gaze met mine. “Ready?”
Not to face the Forum, I wasn’t, but at least I was doing it by Trey’s side. I nodded, and then took off the jacket and held it out.
“Keep it,” Trey said. “You’re shivering.”
“Yes, but it’s pointless both of us—”
“I’m hardly going to get soaked between here and the carriage,” he cut in, “so just put the coat on, Neve.”
I did, and then followed Kiro back out into the rain and the waiting vehicle. The Irkallan’s head—still wrapped in my coat—sat on the floor. Trey had barely closed the door when the carriage took off. It didn’t take us long to get to the building that housed the sitting members of the Forum, which was situated in the middle of the plateau and was a plain-looking, circular white building. It was only single story and the roof was an odd green-gray—the sort of color copper went as it aged, though I wasn’t sure the roof here was made of that material. In fact, given the sleek, shiny finish, it rather looked like glass.
On this side of the building, there were three entrances, all of which were heavily guarded. The carriage stopped directly opposite the biggest of them; Kiro motioned Trey to grab the Irkallan’s head and then climbed out. We followed. As we drew closer to the doorway, one of the guards saluted and said, “Lord Kiro, the arbitrator wishes to advise you that a quorum is now present and they are awaiting your presentation.”
Kiro nodded and continued into the building.
“A quorum?” Trey said, as we followed him into the sweeping and surprisingly large foyer. “That suggests we might have only just met minimum quota.”
“Indeed,” Kiro said. “But at least we’ve reached it, and can therefore immediately act on whatever decisions are made here this evening.”
We strode toward a set of intricately carved gold doors, our footsteps echoing on the darkly stained wooden floorboards. The doors opened as we approached, revealing a room that again was rather plain and surprisingly small. An odd light seemed to fill the room and I glanced up at the ceiling. In the place of stone, metal, or even wood, was a solid piece of green glass, and it soared gloriously over the room like the canopy of a forest. And perhaps it was the reason for the plainness elsewhere—you had no need for extravagance when such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship lay above.
The room itself was divided into two parts. The half on this side featured two rows of darkly stained wooden chairs—the back ones slightly elevated above the front—and on the other, a raised platform. A single wooden chair sat to the left of this, in which a balding man in his mid-fifties sat. Although my knowledge of how the Forum worked was only rudimentary—little more than what they taught in school, really—I knew that man was the arbitrator. It was his job to maintain order within the Forum, but he could also cast a deciding vote in the rare eventuality of such being needed. For that reason, the arbitrator never came from any of the houses, be they upper or lower, but rather from the ranks of those who—like Kiro—had personal magic, and who were well known and trusted amongst all the houses.
Almost half of the wooden chairs were occupied and, as Kiro led us up to some empty seats on the left side of the second row of seats, my gaze swept the nearby faces. I couldn’t see anyone who in any way resembled Trey.
Kiro motioned us to sit then walked back down to the floor and across to the platform. Trey tucked the Irkallan’s head under the seat and then nudged me lightly with his shoulder. When I glanced at him, he murmured, “Front row, middle seats, green cushions. My brother and his daughter.”
My gaze fell on them. Although—at least from side on—there didn’t appear to be much physical resemblance between the brothers, the young woman could have been Eluria’s sister.
“Did he acknowledge you coming in?”
“No.” Once again, his smile held a bitterness that spoke of hurt. “I think perhaps Father’s anger has infected him.”
“Maybe he simply believes the Forum is not an appropriate place for such a reunion.”
“Which is undoubtedly true. It does not, however, explain his avoidance of me over the last few days.”
I reached out and entwined my fingers through his. He squeezed them briefly then released me. Perhaps the Forum was also no place for a display of affection, however minor.
“What about the Rossi household?” I asked softly. “Who’s taken Marcus’s place here in the Forum?”