Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(43)

I was, but I didn't want to admit it to the Commander of the King's Guard, who'd just flown for hours to return to Lironis. If anybody needed something to eat or drink, he did.

"We have food and drink for all of us, except Daragar, who's already soaked up enough sunlight to do him for a while," Kaldill laughed gently. "Come, we have enough seats. We'll sit and eat and talk, if you want to talk."

That's how the four of us came to have our dinner in Kaldill's suite that night, while Justis described Yevil's trip through the gate and his screams and cursing beforehand. He also described Jurris' apparent depression and worry that he could become what Yevil and Treven were—careless murderers whose only concerns were for themselves.

"Should we send Ordin back to Avii Castle?" Kaldill asked. He recognized Justis' worry for his brother.

"I want to, but Quin is already overworked as it is. If we take even one healer away, it will place a heavier burden on those left behind."

"If it will help Jurris, then I won't mind," I said. "I doubt he could ever become what Yevil and his father were, but he needs reassurance, just the same. If Ordin can provide that, then he should go."

"Quin, I don't want to see more of your tears," Kaldill offered gently.

"I know, but everything is in such a delicate balance on Siriaa," I said. "Yes, we need to get the people of Fyris away, or they'll die quickly. The poison is getting worse—much worse. I can feel it. If one monarch or president or trusted leader falls, the balance will collapse and Siriaa will die an even quicker death."

"You see the civil wars and riots that will come, because the poison will consume everything and leave the people without food or clean water, don't you?" Daragar interjected. Until that moment, he'd been content to listen while the rest of us talked.

"Yes. I wish I had access to your Larentii Archives and time enough to read and study the problem; I feel it has happened many times before. A part of me wants to move all the people away, but this is their home. Another part of me realizes that Marid, before he died, managed to infect many other worlds with the same malady. Should we move to another world, only to find the same difficulties facing us there? We need a cure for it," I allowed my wings to droop. If the powerful couldn't find a remedy for the poison, then all could be lost.

*

"If Amlis were here, he'd say no," Rath pointed out.

"My son will say yes," Omina countered. "He will see the reason behind it—Tamblin will not be taken to safety with the others and he will die eventually, because the poison will ensure it. I have no desire to live my last days in Fyris, worried that a madman is on the loose. He should be executed publicly for his crimes, before the people leave this world behind."

"I'll wait to speak with Amlis."

"You do that," Omina flipped her skirts and stalked away.

*

Quin

"Move your things into the suite next door," Kaldill suggested when Justis rose to leave. "You and Quin. Daragar and I have this building protected—none will approach her here—I fear the residents will attempt to find her when she is eating or sleeping if we do not."

"That sounds reasonable. I'll move my things tomorrow, and arrange for Quin's things to be moved as well. Sleep here tonight," Justis nodded to me. "I'd feel better if you did."

I swallowed my concerns—I'd find a way, surely, to move the metal box without anyone asking questions.

*

The morning brought breakfast and a debate. Ordin wanted to stay in Fyris. Justis wanted him to leave for Avii Castle after the meal.

"We're only waiting for the Prince to arrive with his troops—the population will be moved after that," Gurnil argued Ordin's case when Ordin's face darkened with anger.

"If the people can be moved, why can't the troops be moved as well?" Justis stood and rustled his wings—he was just as angry as Ordin—perhaps more so.

"The healers here are overworked as it is, and you're suggesting we take one of them away?" Gurnil hissed.

"Please stop—this disagreement is doing more harm than good," Kaldill held up a hand after a swift glance in my direction. "If you wish the troops moved, Daragar and I shall do it—with the Prince's permission. I warn you, however, another debate will ensue, I think, over whether he should allow this exodus."

He was right—I wasn't sure what Amlis might think of relocation. It could take time for him to see what a dire state Fyris was in before he realized that he would have no kingdom if the people were all dead.

Time was growing short. Whatever the wizard had done to the planet's core was making the poison grow exponentially. I couldn't grasp the how or why of it—I only knew that it was.

"Have any new soil samples been taken recently?" I stood and blurted.

"No—they're working on what they already have," Berel said. Until now, he'd listened to the debate without comment. "Do you think we should?" he asked.

"Yes. It's so much worse, now," I hugged myself. "Fyris will die in a moon-turn if we don't get the people away from here."

Kaldill didn't bother to ask how I knew that. Daragar appeared at his side—I'm sure he'd been listening to the conversation from elsewhere. Someday, I hoped to understand how he did that.