Then, because it glowed every time Beliol did appear, he simply thought it glowed at all times.
She’d encouraged him to think it merely part and parcel of her vanity by also sending him for dresses and ermine and other jewelry. It was lovely to have such an obedient and powerful servant, but Liv had spent too much time being bent to the will of others to actually trust him.
“Where do you keep yours?” Liv asked, as if they were exchanging fashion tips.
“Oh, incorporated with my body, of course. As you keep yours. I simply wanted to see if you’d try to mislead me, make me think you were ignorant where you are not.”
And Liv, of course, had. Caught. Dammit. Liv had a brief flash of the same rage she’d felt before at Samila when she’d humiliated her by figuring out the problems of the Great Mirror so easily. “You do serve the man who tried to enslave me,” Liv said, smiling at the bitch.
“He enslaved me first.”
“There are many ways one might react to that,” Liv pointed out.
“There is no black luxin here,” Samila said, ignoring her.
“Is there not?” Liv asked.
“It was all carried away, long ago. You’re wasting your time if you came here looking for it.”
“Is that why I came here?” Liv asked.
“You grew up in bloody Rekton, yonder,” Samila said. “I told the White King you might be visiting there, to say goodbye. To mourn your dead. He thought the only reason you’d come would be for this battlefield.”
No, neither, actually. “The White King?” Liv asked.
Samila Sayeh shrugged. “One who brings all the colors together, perchance? The opposite of a Prism?”
“That’s not how prisms work,” Liv pointed out. “To bring light back together, you’d use another prism.”
“We had two Prisms at the same time once. Before your time,” Samila Sayeh said sarcastically. “It didn’t give us white.”
You old hag. “So Koios sent you to stop me from wasting my time?” Liv asked, amused. “So kind of him.”
“He wants you to rejoin him,” Samila said. “You don’t wear his collar, but our kind cannot hide from each other. He can find you anywhere in the world. On the other hand, you will also be able to feel him or any of the rest of us coming for you. It would make for a tedious chase. Instead he offers you a kingdom. Ilyta, specifically, traditional home of Ferrilux.”
“What do I care for Ilyta?” Liv asked.
“What do you care for any human land? You’re a god now. But it is good to have a home, and a people who will rally to you. And worship you.”
“He really thinks he’s going to win, doesn’t he?” Liv asked.
“At this point, it’s nearly inevitable. The question is really where you’ll be standing when the fighting stops. He also offers the superviolet bane, without which you will never reach your full power.”
“My bane? He has it?” Liv asked.
“Oh, now you’ve tipped your hand, haven’t you?” Samila said.
Liv didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Never mind. He guessed as much.”
“Guessed what?” Liv asked.
“You are the reason why the Chromeria hides so much knowledge, Aliviana Danavis. You incorporated your seed crystal before it made a bane. If you’d waited until the bane had formed around the crystal and then incorporated it, you’d have both your powers and the place that magnifies them. Having incorporated the seed crystal too early, it will never form a temple. Unless you can figure out something even our ancestors struggled with. A Ferrilux would be the one to figure it out if any would, though, I suppose. Good luck.”
“He’s found a second seed crystal?” Liv asked.
“Not yet. As you might guess, with it being invisible and with superviolet drafters of any skill so rare, superviolet seed crystals are the hardest to find. But he has teams looking for it. You understand, it is both the carrot and the stick. He can give it to you if you will serve him, or if he finds it, he can kill you and make a new, empowered Ferrilux who will be loyal to him.”
Liv’s heart fell. She might be the most effective searcher for superviolet, but the other gods would be attuned to such a thing, and the White King could search many, many places at once. It would be a race to the death.
There was no way of knowing if another seed crystal had even formed yet. Liv might spend every moment for decades searching for something that didn’t exist—and would have to, because her life would depend on it. Meanwhile, the White King would simply have subordinates do it.
“That’s your deal?” Liv asked. “I may live as a slave queen?”
“His deal. I don’t care what you choose. Technically, you’ve rebelled. Being offered to live is generous in itself. But you’re special, and superviolet has always been different, and, bluntly, weak. You will never have to wear the hellstone collar. But yes, you will bend the knee. Servient omnes. All shall serve, child.”
“I won’t,” Liv said, but it sounded hollow.
Samila Sayeh sighed. “Seasons come and seasons go, but youth will always think they know more than their elders.”
“And sometimes they’ll be correct.” But Liv knew she was being immature. That was fine. Perhaps it would make them underestimate her.
Something more human entered Samila’s tone when she said, after a pause, “I do hope this is one of those times.”
Then she simply turned and left.
“Wait,” Liv said to the retreating form. “That’s it? No trap? No bartering?”
“Between gods?” Samila said. “Unwilling gods at that. No. If you take his offer, you’ll know where to find him. You’ll feel him, perhaps do right now, even from here. But if I may…”
“Please,” Liv said.
“Take the time to visit your village. Whyever you came here, you’re here now. You’ll never find another good reason to visit a place so out of the way. Not with what you’ve become. You’ll regret it if you don’t go see what’s become of the places you loved.”
Liv looked at the older woman for a long moment. “Thank you. One question.”
“We’ve come all this way,” Samila Sayeh said.
“Do you hope to escape?”
The Mot fell silent for quite some time. She waved off a silent voice speaking to her. “No,” she said finally. “I save hope for things that are possible.”
“On my way here, I came through Garriston,” Liv said. “Most of those who died in the battle were buried in mass graves.”
Samila Sayeh stopped breathing.
“But some of the slum dwellers who remained thought the drafters’ bodies might be worth a ransom to their families. Especially Blackguards and… bichromes.” Liv didn’t say the name Usef Tep. She could see it was dangerous ground. Never break the emotions of those who pride themselves on logic. “Enter through the Hag’s Gate. Take the third alley on the left. Blue door at the end. Ask for Ordo?o.”
Then Liv left. To burn the time until Mot was far enough away that she wouldn’t know where Liv was going exactly, she went to the dead village of Rekton. Eventually her feet took her to Kip’s old hovel—somehow unburnt. She took in his scent deeply, deeply enough to send a message for him in superviolet, wherever he was now. He was the only wild card left, the only hope for victory.
Would he even understand it? Superviolet, Kip. Who else could send you a message in superviolet? But he was half the world away, and she had not the control yet to make her message clear.
It was probably hopeless.
She unbarred a closet. What a shithole. There were little scratch marks and dark stains on the inside of the door. A rats’ nest sat on the ground, with old bones and fur and rat droppings. She’d had no idea Kip had lived in such squalor.
“Why are you crying?” Beliol asked her.
There was indeed wetness coursing down her face. Both sides. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.
Chapter 42
“We have a problem,” Conn Arthur said as his skimmer bumped ashore on the little island where Kip and the Mighty had camped. “I’ll explain as we go.”