As if perfectly timed, the empress’s transmitter emits a loud bleep, and Councilor Herna’s face appears in the blue dome after she accepts the communication. “Everything is ready, You Highness. Am I to proceed?”
Empress Iana regards me quickly, her face etched in concern, then addresses the councilor. “Yes. Join us.”
Craning my neck, I watch Whip move from the corner of the room to the door. I’d almost forgotten she was here; she’s been so still and discreet. She opens the door, and as Councilor Herna acknowledges her briefly, I hear a loud commotion outside the chamber.
Shouting and angry rants fill the room. Whip hurriedly shuts it out, closing the door at Empress Iana’s command.
I turn my attention toward the empress. “What was that? What’s happening?
“A protest of sorts,” she responds distractedly. “It’s been gathering force in Court all morning. Seems the Perinyian citizens have moved it to the palace doors. But it’s their affair, Kaliope. Allow Julian to handle it.”
I nod, only I don’t feel reassured in the least about Julian’s ability to handle anything. But soon my thoughts are on Councilor Herna as she removes her vissa display to give the empress her full attention.
I was already defensive, dreading the conversation to veer toward the goddesses, and now that the woman who I’ve had little trust in has been called to this meeting, I want nothing more than to leave. Be on my way to finding Bax and Caben. But apparently, there’s some issue that needs to be addressed first. And I’ll most likely need the details.
Even if the mercury is growing hot in my veins, like a warning.
I’m unsure if it’s my unease…or the unease I sense in Empress Iana through the goddess bond.
The councilor reports to the empress first, protocol and procedures. When Whip steps out of the room at Empress Iana’s instruction, my stomach knots.
“You’re here with me, Kaliope,” Empress Iana says.
Still, I feel the empress is safer with two Nactue verses one…especially since I don’t know why Herna is here.
Finally taking a seat on the couch opposite us, Councilor Herna sets her bag on the floor, smooths out her beige robe, and says, “I won’t bore you with the details, as I’m sure you’re anxious enough, and Her Highness has already filled you in on most. So I’ll get right to it.” She clears her throat. “You ruined Bale’s plans.”
I’m taken aback, feeling like her statement is an accusation. I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off.
“The Reckoning,” she says. “We believed that once the ritual was foiled by not obtaining the relic shard that she wouldn’t be able to manifest. But we were wrong.”
I want to tell her that I’d said as much at the first briefing. This isn’t anything new. “She can still become corporeal if she gets to it now, I know.” Isn’t that why we’ve been fighting this war? Hundreds of Perinyians and protectors losing their lives?
“Yes, but it’s not that simple.” She rolls her shoulders. “Look, Protector. What Prince Caben did for you down there was admirable. But he’s also made matters far worse. Had the moon goddess possessed you…well. This would all be behind us.”
“What?” It comes out harsher than I intend, but I’m not concerned with filtering myself any longer.
She ignores my outburst. “You were gifted something special. The divine blood runs in your veins—the goddesses designed you for the sheer purpose of stopping Bale if she were to ever try to rise. It was fated that you’d be the chosen vessel during the Reckoning.”
Dread creeps through me, quick and cold. Not just because they all believe this goddess fate nonsense, but because she knows about my father. “What happened to me was no gift, Councilor.” Images of my father’s crazed eyes as he stuck me with the syringe of mercury flash before my vision. If that is the goddesses’ idea of graciousness, then I fear the day we see their wrath.
“You’ve always been reluctant to accept the goddesses’ gift, Kaliope, and I can appreciate as much,” the empress says, turning her full attention to me. “Only, realize that your father may have had little choice in his role. We don’t always understand the way, but we must trust the will. I continue to pray for your peace and acceptance, but we no longer have time for you to question your place.”
I don’t like where this is going. At all. And I’m about to say as much when Councilor Herna pulls a parchment from her bag. “We were able to escape with a number of documents during the Cavan invasion. This was found among the ones we kept on Bale.” She hands it to me, and I accept it with hesitance. “Bax was able to translate the old language. Since I know of your fondness for him, I was going to allow Bax to relay this to you…but we don’t have that option now.”
Looking over the weathered parchment, I recognize Bax’s handwriting in the overlaid margins. What I read stills my heart. I can almost hear the clamp in my chest grind to a halt. “This can’t be right,” I say, even though I know the one person who could correctly translate it has done so.
“It is,” Empress Iana says. “But it’s fortunate we discovered it before…”
“Before?” I scan the document, then look up at her and Herna. “Prince Caben is doomed. Bale will succeed regardless of our efforts. We can’t save him and stop Bale in time. Not in the next three days.”
Since Bale possessed Caben, I’ve kept a chart marking the lunar cycle. A calendar that I can pull up at any moment via my transmitter. In a way, this makes me feel as if I have some level of control—that I’m able to head off any foreseeable change…but I’m only grasping.
Lowering the document to my lap, I hang my head, my gaze unfocused. A human was never meant to survive as Bale’s vessel for as long as Caben has. It was a temporary arrangement, if you can call it such. But it seems the goddesses always have some terrible loophole. If the vessel proves strong enough, then Bale can manifest through them on a new moon. When stars align, and the moon moves into its new lunar phase. If Caben survives till then, the dark goddess will no longer need the relic.
A thought hits me like a punch to the stomach. “How long have you known Prince Caben’s death was unavoidable?” Anger rips through me. “Were the plans to try to save him ever in effect?”
A shadow passes over Empress Iana’s face. “We had every intention to help Prince Caben, Kaliope. You must understand this.”