Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(197)

“I knew it at that moment. I knew that if a man like you were chosen to Return—a man who had died to save another—then the Iridescent Tones were real. The visions were real. And the gods were real. You gave me back my faith, Stennimar.”

He met Lightsong’s eyes. “You are a god. To me, at least. It doesn’t matter how easily you can be killed, how much Breath you have, or how you look. It has to do with who you are and what you mean.”

55

There is fighting at the front gates, Your Excellency,” the bloodied soldier said. “The insurgents are fighting each other there. We . . . we might be able to get out.”

Siri felt a stab of relief. Finally, something going right.

Treledees turned toward her. “If we can get into the city, the people will rally around their God King. We should be safe there.”

“Where did they get so many Lifeless?” Siri asked.

Treledees shook his head. They had paused in a room near the front of the palace, desperate, yet unsure. Breaking through the Pahn Kahl fortification of the Court of Gods was bound to be difficult.

She looked up at Susebron. His priests treated him like a child—they gave him respect, but they obviously gave no thought to ask his opinion. For his part, he stood, hand on her shoulder. She saw thoughts and ideas working behind those eyes of his, but there was nothing for him to write on to tell her.

“Vessel,” Treledees said, drawing her attention. “You need to know something.”

She looked at him.

“I hesitate to mention this,” Treledees said, “as you are not a priest. But . . . if you survive and we do not . . .”

“Speak it,” she commanded.

“You cannot bear the God King a child,” he said. “Like all Returned, he is unable to sire children. We have not yet learned how the First Returned managed to have a child all those years ago. In fact . . .”

“You don’t even think he did,” she said. “You think the royal line is a fabrication.” Of course the priests dispute the record of the royal line coming from the first Returned, she thought. They wouldn’t want to give credibility to Idris’s claim to the throne.

He flushed. “It’s what people believe that matters. Regardless, we . . . have a child . . .”

“Yes,” Siri said. “A Returned child you are going to make the next God King.”

He looked at her, shocked. “You know?”

“You’re planning to kill him, aren’t you?” she hissed. “Take Susebron’s Breath and leave him dead!”

“Colors, no!” Treledees said, shocked. “How—how could you think? No, we’d never do such a thing! Vessel, the God King needs only give away the treasure of Breaths he holds, investing them into the next God King, and then he can live the rest of his life—so long as he should desire—in peace. We change God Kings whenever an infant Returns. It is our sign that the previous God King has done his duty, and should be allowed to live the rest of his life without bearing his terrible burdens.”

Siri looked at him skeptically. “That’s foolish, Treledees. If the God King gives away his Breath, he will die.”

“No, there is a way,” the priest said.

“That is supposed to be impossible.”

“Not at all. Think about it. The God King has two sources of Breath. One is his innate, divine Breath—that which makes him Returned. The other is the Breath given to him as the treasure of Peacegiver, fifty thousand Breaths strong. That he could use as any Awakener could, as long as he is careful about the Commands he uses. He could also survive quite easily as a Returned without it. Any of the other gods could do the same, should they gain Breath beyond the one a week which sustains them. They’d consume them at a rate of one a week, of course, but they could stockpile them and use the extras in the meantime.”

“You keep them from realizing that, though,” Siri said.

“Not keep specifically,” the priest said, looking away. “It does not arise. Why would the Returned care about Awakening? They have everything they need.”

“Except knowledge,” Siri said. “You keep them in ignorance. I’m surprised you didn’t cut out all their tongues to hide your precious secrets.”

Treledees looked back at her, expression hardening. “You judge us still. We do what we do because it is what we must, Vessel. The power he holds in that Treasure—fifty thousand Breaths—could destroy kingdoms. It is too great a weapon; we were charged as our sole, divine mission to keep it safe and not let it be used. If Kalad’s army ever returns from where it was exiled, we—”

A sound came from a nearby room. Treledees looked, concerned, and Susebron’s grip on Siri’s shoulder tightened.

She looked up, concerned. “Treledees,” she said. “I need to know. How? How can Susebron give away his Breath? He can speak no Command!”

“I—”

Treledees was interrupted by a group of Lifeless bursting through the doorway to their left. Treledees yelled for her to flee, but another group of the creatures came through the other way. Siri cursed, grabbing Susebron’s hand, pulling him toward yet another doorway. She pulled it open.

Bluefingers stood on the other side. He looked into her eyes, face grim. Lifeless stood behind him.