Godslayers

The Renathion had come and gone. Markus won his third set of laurels, our improvised alliance with the Voranetti finally pushing him past his sudden unpopularity. We were all politely ignoring that they’d been the cause of that in the first place, but that was the price you paid for being of grace in the Estheni empire.

Unless you were Kuril, of course. My adoptive mom was holding it together in public, but in private she really let it fly whenever the Voranetti came up.

“Roel says it was their mom’s fault,” Alouren said when I asked her.

Roel’s wannabe spy was way too talkative to play the games she was playing, and I wondered if Roel had already stopped sharing sensitive intel with her. My gut said no; Roel wasn’t ready for the big leagues yet. I let her keep distracting me while Roel worked in the forge with Bofa.

“Our House has been in decline for about four generations,” she continued when I prompted her. “The past is the seed of the future and everything. The last Vitaressi Visionary was Kuril’s great-great-grandmother, before she died in battle against the Phrecians. The Jeneretes managed to come out on top in the confusion, but it was House Voranetes who really sliced us up in the years afterward. At least, that was Lady Kerial’s belief, and Kuril grew up hearing it every day.”

“Not Roel?”

Alouren looked confused for a moment, then something clicked in her expression. “I forget you’re an outsider sometimes! They’re about ten years apart. Lady Kerial was always too busy to get pregnant, or so they say. Kuril’s a lot like her. Honestly, I don’t get it. Bofa looks really good and she’s got you and Roel to lean on. Do you know why she doesn’t have a kid yet?”

“Uh uh, no, no, hard pass,” I said. “I am not having this conversation with you under any possible circumstances.”

Alouren casually shrugged me off. “If you say so. Then maybe we can talk about something else, like spells…?”

“Come on, kid,” I said. My tone was exasperated, but there was an undercurrent of affection. The kid wasn’t smooth, but hell if she wasn’t endearing.

“Just one,” she insisted. “Or you could tell me a story instead? You must have so many from your travels.”

“Well, there was one about a boy called, uh, Haria Poteres,” I said. “His family didn’t want him to use magic, but he left and went to a school for magicians.”

“There are schools for magicians where you come from?” Alouren looked so excited.

I gave her an apologetic grin. “No, it’s just a story.”

“So what happened? Magic school would be incredible!”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “When I grew up, my parents wouldn’t let me read it because it had magic in it. Then when I left, my friends didn’t want me to read it because it was”—shit, the Estheni had no concept of racism—“uh, it was morally corrupt.”

“Oh, like those Dancer stories that mock the graced and valorize ass-lancers?”

I choked back a guffaw. The comm said it was a slur for gay people, but—ass-lancers? Really?

Alouren mistook my humor and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, I should be more proper.”

“No apologies needed here,” I said, smiling. “Maybe watch your language around Lady Kuril, though. Excuse me, that’s Cades, I need to find Thala.”

*

I’d volunteered to be the vocal coach for today’s singing practice. I know nothing about music, but it was a great excuse to get us all in an isolated location. The quality of the practice didn’t matter anyways—we’d have full control of the performance location and could deploy whatever amplifier tech we felt like.

“I’m just not feeling it,” I told them both. “You’re just not in sync. Here, let’s try having you both take turns with it. I want you to really express yourselves while you’re singing, okay? Whoever’s not singing can watch their partner and really internalize those feelings. I want to feel like I’m hearing two mouths and one soul.”

Markus shot me a warning look. You’re pushing him too hard, he subvocalized. I shot Cades a glance. The poor man was radiating so much pain and confusion that it was etherically staining the walls. Yeah, okay, that was probably too much.

“I’m just kidding,” I backtracked quickly. “Just a joke. It was fine. We can move on.”

Cades let out a slow breath.

“Everything okay, buddy?” I asked him.

“Your family has heaped honor upon me,” said Cades. “I could have no complaint.”

Dude was locked down like Fort Knox. I had no idea what to say here. “Honor’s pretty cool,” I verbally flailed.

“Ajarel, maybe you should take a break,” Markus said gently.

“And leave you two handsome lads unsupervised?” I joked.

Cades froze. Like, he stopped breathing for a couple seconds. I thought I’d accidentally broken him. Markus looked at me and my brain shut down as I realized I’d never seen him furious before.

“Shit shit shit I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry,” I babbled. “I’m gonna go, I’m sorry man, please be okay. Uh, Cades? Are you okay?”

“I need to leave,” he managed.

“Uh—”

“Ajarel,” Markus snapped. “You need to go. I’ll handle this.”

“No, I’ll go,” Cades said.

“Stay,” Markus ordered him. “Sit down. Take deep breaths. Ajarel, if you don’t—”

“Sorry sorry sorry—”

I fled the room, slamming the door closed and pressing my hands to my face until I saw stars. I slid down to a sitting position. I’d just fucked up my op. Holy shit, I fucked it up hard. Markus was going to straight-up kill me.

Thinking about him drew my attention back to his channel.

“This is a battle,” Markus was telling him. “I’ve seen your scars. You’ve stood in a shield wall. You have the courage to face this.”

“Face what?” Cades said bitterly. “Go on. Say it.”

“You have the courage to face the lash,” Markus replied. “The fear and self-hatred in your thoughts that makes you serve them.”

“If you intend to make me a slave, I will kill you.”

“Never,” Markus said gently. “But I’ll stand in the shield wall beside you.”

“Men should speak directly instead of whatever this is. Talking in riddles, giving orders to women—of grace! This is shameful, Thala.”

“As you wish,” Markus said. “I think you’ve been subjected to a kind of violence whose name is hidden. I think you’ve been kept in your place with pain. I know your character, and I think the only thing between you and freedom is the name of your enemy.”

“That’s enough, Thala,” Cades said softly. “Please. Don’t say it. I may be a coward, but I have enough honor left that I will not see you harmed.”

“We’re safe here,” Markus said.

“No. They can hear it spoken.”

“They… what?”

Yeah, I also had no idea what was going on there. I’d been pretty sure Markus was talking about, like, internalized queerphobia.

“Be safe, Thala,” said Cades. “Protect yourself. Please. For my sake. Don’t lose yourself delving into dangerous secrets.”

That did it. Everything clicked into place. I stood up, brushed myself off, and knocked on the door, cutting off whatever Markus was about to say. I entered without waiting for permission.

Markus and Cades both watched me carefully as I closed the door and walked deliberately to my chair.

“Lilith, what are you doing?” Markus subvocalized.

I raised my eyebrows at him and casually took my seat. I looked Cades dead in the eyes.

“Meris,” I announced. “Meris, Meris, Merismerismeris. Meris! How am I doing?”

Cades’s face was ashen.

“Fantastic,” I smiled. “Look, man, Thala wanted to be sensitive to what you’re going through, but the fact is we already know your secret. I don’t fucking care. It’s not a big deal where we come from and we definitely don’t want you to get hurt for it. But I know there’s some people who do, and I have beef with them. Comprende?”

Cades blinked. “Was that—Tercadian?”

“Probably,” I said. I was flying high. I felt good. I felt invulnerable. “So here’s the deal: no one hears what happens in this room but me. You can trust me on that, or we can fall back on the fact that I’ve already made this as bad as it’s gonna get. Meris, by the way. Anyone wants to scrap with me over this, I’m gonna fucking scrap with them.”

Cades’s expression was wary. “That’s… forgive me, Lady Ajarel, but I didn’t think you liked me that much.”

“Dude,” I said, “when I met you, I thought you were trying to get in my skirt. If you wanna get in Thala’s skirt instead, that’s fine by me.”

Cades’s cheeks colored an impressive red.

“But at least buy him dinner first,” I said to Markus, then froze. His expression was extremely cold. “Thala, you okay?”

He took a deep breath, not breaking eye contact. When he spoke, his tone was flatly polite. “Next time you take a stupid gamble, I need you to make sure that your life is the only one on the line. Can you do that for me next time? If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Rage boiled in my chest with no outlet. Cades stared wildly between us.

“Sure, buddy,” I said with poisonous cheer. “Happy to do you a favor. It worked, if you didn’t notice.”

Cades shifted uncomfortably. “I should be—”

“Sit down!” Markus and I yelled in unison without breaking eye contact with each other.

Markus spoke first. “I would like to handle this from here. Please leave.”

“Yeah, that was going super well!”

“Stop being reactive! Please!” Markus said. “You need to stop and think before someone gets hurt.”

He continued subvocally: “Did you even check what protections they might have put on him before you risked his life?”

“I didn’t—” I said, then realized I didn’t have much of a case. “Okay, fine! I basically did it all for you anyways. Bye!”

I stormed out again, this time in a very different mood. “Supposed to be my op,” I muttered, knowing my comm would pick it up.

The hallway was empty. I paced restlessly, eyes passing over the wall murals without taking anything in. Lirian was in prison and Cades was our best lead on what the Merisites were up to. There shouldn’t be a problem now. Besides, we would have noticed if there were some kind of etheric trace on Cades. Darwin knows we’d scanned him enough.

“A good commander respects her soldiers’ initiative in the field,” Abby’s voice came to me.

“Screw that. Good soldiers should follow the commander’s lead,” I shot back.

“Should soldiers emulate the kind of leadership you’re demonstrating?”

“I made the right call, dammit.”

“We don’t know that,” said Abby. “We don’t know if there are other Merisite operatives in the field. We don’t know if the Oathkeepers are involved or are otherwise contributing their abilities to the equation. We don’t know whether Cades is correct about the Merisites being able to hear her name spoken, or what other information is collected if they do. We simply don’t know what the consequences are.”

“It worked,” I said.

“It’s easier to say that than admit that you didn’t consider the consequences.” Abby’s voice softened. “You hurt Markus, Lilith.”

I didn’t want to think about that.

The mural across the hall from me depicted a dude fighting a giant octopus with a spear. The dude was, predictably, naked, and the sheen on his butt shone a little differently in the ghostlight than the tiles around it. I guess that meant they had octopi here.

The commander was right. Markus was right. Val hadn’t said anything but I knew he was thinking it and he was right, too. I’d made a snap decision and now people might get hurt.

Again.

“Why do you put up with me?” I whispered. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“We put up with you because you’re a child,” said Abby.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“You could be a hundred and three, but you’ll be a child until you grow up. And until you do, it’s the duty of the adults around you to show you the way. If we can’t, it’s because our own wisdom falls short.”

“I wouldn’t want to put up with me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Fuck, I’m going to get you all killed.”

“Do you remember what Markus told Cades?’ Abby said.

“Which part?”

“Name your enemy.”

“I don’t know, the part where every time I make a snap decision, it’s the wrong one?”

I kicked the wall. It was made of rock. I was wearing sandals. Smart, Lilith. Real smart.

Abby didn’t respond.

“I’m getting the sense that was the wrong answer. Just tell me.”

“I can’t tell you, Lilith. I don’t know either.”

There’s no way that was true, but Veleans had a thousand ways to tell you to figure it out yourself. I almost called her on it, but what was the point? It wasn’t like she’d just humor me if I gave up. That wasn’t who I was supposed to be.

“Look,” I said, “I don’t want to lean too much on the self-loathing here, but I’m pretty sure the problem is just me. I know there’s like Lirian and Alceoi and Obol in my way, but it’s not their fault I suck.”

“I know you’ve read the Road of Spears,” Abby said. “‘You are the first and last of your foes.’ Striking at your confidence is the enemy’s work, is it not?”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “Very wise. Not helpful.”

“No advice is helpful if you shrug it off. Tell me how you would fight this enemy.”

“Uh, I should just be smarter and not do the things that hurt me,” I said. “I know that already.”

“Very wise. Not helpful.”

A chuckle escaped my lips.

“You don’t have the option to totally control the behavior of any other opponent. Take a minute and actually think about it. You have an enemy who presents you with tempting mistakes at regular intervals. How should you fight that enemy?”

I reached for the stability of meditative calm and tried to make her proud, starting with admitting to myself that I had no idea how to solve this absurd thought experiment. I was my enemy because I kept not being good enough. Obviously the only way to fix that was to do better. I just… couldn’t. I was never good enough, for reasons I could never see coming. Like—obviously, if I could see them coming, I’d avoid them. I’m not an idiot.

“I’m not sure how to just prevent myself from making mistakes,” I said. “They always seem like good ideas at the time.”

“Good! You’re thinking,” Abby said. “But keep going. There is a difference between a mistake and self-sabotage,”

Good was good, I guessed. “Look, sometimes I need to make a call, and it’s the wrong call. It’s not like I know better. I know I don’t know better, but I still have to make a call!”

“Why don’t you know better?”

“I don’t know! I can’t predict the future!”

“Did you try?”

I closed my eyes and rested against the wall. My toes hurt.

“A mistake, Lilith, is a lesson the world is trying to teach you. Self-sabotage is a lesson you refuse to learn.”

She let me stew on that for a bit. The problem with sitting on a concrete floor is they just suck all the heat out of your ass. It was uncomfortable, but I was too emotionally drained to move. Eventually the scales would tip and I’d stand up, but we hadn’t hit that point yet.

“I’m not thinking about consequences,” I said. “With Cades, I found the solution to the puzzle and I tried to use it as soon as possible. I only thought about winning. But Markus was thinking about losing and I let him down.”

Abby sent a nonverbal burst of warmth over the comm, and I managed a sad smile.

“So you’re telling me that all the times you guys yelled at me to think things through, you were telling me to think things through?”

“I know this probably comes as a shock.”

“Fuck,” I laughed. “It really does.”

“Laughter is good. Let it out,” Abby said. I could hear a smile in her voice. “Are you ready to apply your newfound wisdom?”

“Yeah. I’ll go apologize to Markus,” I said. “How’s he handling things in there?”

“Not Markus, although I agree with that course of action,” said Abby. “I’m talking about Roel. She entered Kuril’s office five minutes ago and they’re talking about you.”