Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark #1)(125)

Yma Zetsyvis had disappeared in a pale blue flourish in the chaotic aftermath of the challenge. I wished I had gotten the chance to thank her, but then, she hadn’t poisoned Ryzek for me; she had believed it would kill him, as I had led her to believe it would. She probably would have hated my gratitude. And when she found out that I had lied to her, she would hate me more than before.

Isae and Cisi crouched on either side of Ori’s body. Akos stood behind his sister. When she snaked her hand back to reach for him, he was already stretching toward her; they clasped fingers, Akos’s gift freeing Cisi’s tears.

“May the current, which flows through and around each and all of us, living and passed, guide Orieve Benesit to a place of peace,” Cisi murmured, covering Isae’s bloody hands with her own. “May we who live hear its comfort clearly, and strive to match our actions to the path it sets for us.”

Isae’s hair was stringy and wet with spit, sticking to her lips. Cisi brushed it away from her face, tucking it behind her ears. I felt the warmth and the weight of Cisi’s currentgift, settling me into myself.

“May it be so,” Isae finally said, apparently closing the prayer. I had never heard Thuvhesit prayers before, though I knew they spoke to the current itself, rather than its alleged master, like the smaller Shotet sects. Shotet prayers were lists of certainties rather than requests, and I liked the honesty of Thuvhesit tentativeness, the implicit acknowledgment that they didn’t know if their prayers would be answered.

Isae stood, her hands limp at her sides. The ship lurched, sending us all off balance. I didn’t worry that we would be pursued across the skies of Voa; there was no one left to order it.

“You knew,” Isae said, looking up at Akos. “You knew he had been brainwashed by Ryzek, that he was dangerous—” She gestured to Eijeh, still lying unconscious on the metal floor. “From the very beginning.”

“I didn’t think he would ever—” Akos choked a little. “He loved her like a sister—”

“Don’t you dare say that to me.” Isae bent her fingers into fists, her knuckles turning white. “She was my sister. She does not belong to him, or to you, or to anyone else!”

I was too distracted by their conversation to stop Teka from kneeling next to Ryzek. She put her hand against his throat, then his chest, sliding it under his armor.

“Cyra,” Teka said in a low voice. “Why is he alive?”

Everyone—Isae, Cisi, Akos—turned to Teka, their tense moment broken. Isae looked from Ryzek’s body to me. I stiffened. There was something threatening about the way she was moving, speaking, like she was a coiled creature ready to strike.

“The last hope for Eijeh’s restoration lies in Ryzek,” I said, as calmly as I could. “I spared him for the time being. After he returns Eijeh’s memories I will happily cut out his heart myself.”

“Eijeh.” Isae laughed. And laughed again, madly, looking at the ceiling. “The drug you gave Ryzek put him to sleep . . . yet you chose not to share this with him when my sister’s life was threatened?”

She stepped toward me, crushing Ryzek’s fingers under her shoe.

“You chose the dim hope of a traitor’s restoration,” she said, low and quiet, “over the life of a chancellor’s sister.”

“If I had told Ryzek about the drug, we would have been trapped in that amphitheater with no leverage and no hope of escape, and he would have killed your sister anyway,” I said. “I chose the path that guaranteed our survival.”

“Bullshit.” Isae leaned close to my face. “You chose Akos. Don’t pretend it’s any different than it is.”

“Fine,” I said, just as quiet. “It was Akos or you. I chose him. And I don’t regret it.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was certainly true. If simple hatred was what she craved, I would make it easier for her. I was used to being hated, especially by the Thuvhesit.

Isae nodded.

“Isae . . . ,” Cisi began, but Isae was already walking away. She disappeared into the galley, closing the door behind her.

Cisi wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I can’t believe this. Vas is dead, and Ryzek is alive,” Teka said.

Vas was dead? I looked at Akos, but he was avoiding my eyes.

“Give me a reason not to kill Ryzek right now, Noavek,” Teka said, turning to me. “And if that reason is something about Kereseth, I will hit you.”

“If you kill him, you won’t have my cooperation in whatever plan the renegades concoct next,” I said dully, without looking at her. “If you help me keep him alive, I’ll help you conquer Shotet.”

“Yeah? And what kind of help would you be, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Teka,” I snapped, finally breaking my spell to glare at her. “Yesterday the renegades were just squatting in a safe house in Voa, clueless, and now, because of me, you’re standing over the unconscious body of Ryzek Noavek with Voa in utter chaos behind you. I think that suggests my capacity to help the renegade cause is considerable, don’t you?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a few seconds, then said, “There’s a storage area below deck with a heavy door. I’ll toss him in there so he doesn’t wake up on us.” But she shook her head. “You know, wars have been started over less. You didn’t just make her angry, you enraged an entire nation.”