The Continent (The Continent #1)(70)

He laughs. “All these months with my people, yet you do not see the roots that bind us here? This is our home. The Aven’ei will never leave the Continent, even if our destruction is the price.”

“I thought you would say as much. If you will not be compelled to leave, then we must find another way.”

“Your people have no armies. No fighting force of any kind. What other way can there be?”

“I don’t know,” I say, looking up at him. “But I must find out.”

He gives me a sad smile. “Go then, miyake. But do not waste your breath in petition for the Aven’ei—and do not return here. Stay in the Spire, where you are safe. Go back to your people and live.”

I kiss him softly. “Oh, Noro. I would never be parted from you. I give you my word that I will return. And when I do, I will bring peace to the Continent. One way or another, I will bring peace.”





CHAPTER 24





THE SILENCE IN THE WAR ROOM IS PALPABLE. There is a distinct air of dissension. Yet no one—not Teku, Inzo, nor even Shoshi—has spoken since I put forth the specifics of my plan.

At length, it is Teku who finally responds. “We appreciate your good intentions, Vaela Sun, but the situation here in Hayato has become dire. We need every man available to us at this time—the Topi may be on the march even now. Our scouts are vigilant, but they cannot see all. Even a Topi horde may progress unseen for many miles.”

“I understand your position,” I say. “But with such a pressing threat, mightn’t it be wise to seek help while you still can?”

Teku gives me a patient smile. “If I thought your people would offer such help, I would be inclined to agree.”

“I don’t know,” Inzo says. “I think we ought to send her to the Four Nations.”

If Teku is surprised, he does not show it. “Speak freely then, brother. Tell me why we should do this thing.”

“The Topi have pressed our backs against the sea, Teku Ana. It is a matter of time now—nothing more. They will not rest until every last one of us is gone.”

“I do not believe it is so hopeless as that.”

Inzo’s jaw tightens. “Then you are unwilling to see what is plain before you.”

Teku frowns. “Do you doubt my leadership?”

“I only feel that we must decide these matters with open eyes. Vigilance and pride did not protect us against this recent attack—”

“Yet we prevailed,” Teku interjects.

“Because we had the greater numbers!” Inzo says, his face dark with emotion. “My scouts report that the Topi in the southern camps are six thousand strong—six thousand, Teku Ana. This village will crumble before such a force.”

“We have gathered allies to our breast, Inzo Saki. We have doubled our scouts, and we are fortifying our defenses. We communicate daily with the villages to the north and south. We do all we can.”

Inzo shakes his head. “It will not be enough. Surely you must see the truth.”

“I see that you are defeated,” Teku says, “before a single blow has been struck.”

“Send her to the Four Nations,” Inzo insists. “Let us turn over every stone, and we may yet survive.”

Teku is silent for a moment. He turns to Shoshi, who sits with his arms crossed, a bored expression on his face. “What say you, Shoshi Kaken? You are never without an opinion.”

Shoshi glances up at him. “I say we send the girl away.”

“You think the Four Nations will come to our assistance?”

Shoshi blinks, and then laughs so hard, and for so long, that the rest of us stare at him in awkward, bewildered silence.

“Oh,” he finally says, rubbing a knuckle over each eye. “The Four Nations, Deliverers of the Aven’ei! Ha. I think it more likely that the Topi will come for tea.”

“Why, then, do you suggest she go?”

“Come, now, Teku Ana. We’ve had trouble and nothing more since the girl arrived. Put her in a boat and send her home—we will be well rid of her.”

“You bring dishonor to yourself each time you open your mouth.”

Shoshi shrugs, a smirk of amusement still curling upward at the corner of his lips. “I am entitled to my opinion, just as you are.”

Teku ignores this and turns his attention to me. “Two on this council are inclined to send you to the Four Nations, Vaela Sun—though for disparate reasons, to be sure.” He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly—an uncharacteristic bearing for him. “For my part, I feel the venture is not worth the risk—either to the village, or to you and Noro.”

Noro leans forward. “There is little danger where we are concerned, Teku Ana. It will take a day to reach the coast, and we shall spend another at sea. The journey would comprise a few days’ time at most.”

Teku regards him thoughtfully. “You would escort her to the island and return at once?”

“At once.”

“The distance in sailing does not trouble you? Or the last breath of the kazuri ko?”

“One mile upon the sea is much like any other, and we are near enough to autumn,” Noro says. “The fishing grounds are ten miles out—we need to travel thirty. It is not so great a distance, and the vessels are swift.”