The Fates Divide (Carve the Mark #2)(27)

“Item four: Shotet will desist in referring to itself as a sovereign nation, and will instead acknowledge its belonging to the nation of Thuvhe.

“Item five: Shotet will pay reparations to all public facilities and families affected by Shotet aggression of the past one hundred seasons, on the planet of Thuvhe and abroad, in an amount to be determined at a later date by a committee of Assembly and Thuvhesit authorities.

“Item six: All Shotet identifying as ‘exiles’ of the Noavek regime will return to Thuvhe and settle at a location distinct from Voa, where they will be pardoned and granted full Thuvhesit citizenship.”

I felt like my entire body was curling into a fist, one finger at a time, squeezing blood from every knuckle. I hardly noticed the pain of my currentgift, though the shadows raced along my skin, at their deepest, densest black.

“You will respond to this message accepting these terms, or I will issue a declaration of war, at which point the blood of your own people will be on your hands,” Isae continued. “A response must be received by the common daybreak, measured on this day at 6:13 a.m., or your life will be assumed forfeit, and we will proceed to the next member of your family line. Transmission complete.”

Isae’s face disappeared from the screen. Everything was silent around me. I closed my eyes and fought for control of my body. Now is not the time, I told it, as it raged with pain. Now is not the time to take up space in my head.

I tried again to think of my mother’s lessons, but I could only think of her. The tilt of her neck, the cold smile she wore when she wanted someone to wither from the inside out. The way she used her quiet, rich voice to get exactly what she wanted. I could try to imitate her, but it wouldn’t work for me. I already knew that I was no Ylira Noavek.

The only persona I had ever been able to adopt was that of Ryzek’s Scourge, and I desperately didn’t want to be that, not again, never again.

“Are you ready to respond, Miss Noavek? You have only a few minutes,” Yssa said.

I was not ready to respond, not ready to act as the leader of a divided country that had never showed me anything but disdain. Around me now were the critical eyes of people who had been exiled because of the cruelty of my own father and my own brother. I was aware of the insult it must have been to them, to see me treated like their leader when I was really part of the same family that had tortured and excluded them.

But someone had to do this, and right now, the task fell to me. I would have to do my best.

I straightened. Cleared my throat. And nodded.

Yssa nodded back. I focused on the sights ahead of me, recording my image and voice to send it along to Isae.

“This is Cyra Noavek, acting sovereign of the rightful nation of Shotet,” I said, and though my voice shook, the words were right. The yellow light burned against my face, and I stared straight ahead. I would not flinch at my currentshadows, I would not—

I flinched. It didn’t matter, I told myself. I was in pain. Flinching was what I did.

“Shotet rejects your terms of surrender, as living under them would be worse than the bloodshed to which you referred,” I continued. “Ryzek Noavek is dead, and the crimes he committed against Thuvhe, whether directly or indirectly, are not representative of his people.”

I had run out of formal language.

“I think you know that,” I said instead. “You have walked among us and met our resistance effort face-to-face.”

I stopped. Thought about what I wanted to say.

“The nation of Shotet respectfully requests a cessation of hostilities until such a time as we can meet and discuss a treaty between our two nations,” I said. “War is not what we want. But make no mistake, we are a nation, divided though we are between Ogra and Urek, and will be treated as such. Transmission complete.”

I didn’t realize, until I was finished, that I had just revealed the location of the exile colony—formerly secret to all but the Ograns—to Isae Benesit. It was too late to change that, though.

Before anyone could speak, I held up a hand to get Yssa’s attention.

“Can I record another message? This one is to be delivered immediately to Voa satellites.”

Yssa hesitated.

“Please,” I added. It couldn’t hurt.

“Okay,” she said. “But it must be brief.”

“The briefest,” I said.

I waited for her signal to begin. This message I could do without thinking, without rehearsing. When Yssa nodded, I took a breath, and said:

“People of Voa. This is Cyra Noavek. Thuvhe has declared war on Shotet. Hostiles incoming. Evacuate to the sojourn ship immediately. I repeat, evacuate to the sojourn ship immediately. Transmission complete.”

With that, I bent at the waist, bracing myself on my knees, and struggled to breathe. I was in so much pain my legs felt like they would give out at any moment. Akos rushed forward, clutching first at my shoulders, and then at my hands. I braced myself against him, my head slotted next to his, my forehead against his shoulder.

“You did well,” he said quietly. “You did well, I have you, I have you.”

When I glanced over his shoulder, I saw tentative smiles, heard murmurs that almost seemed . . . approving. Was Akos right? Had I really done well? I couldn’t believe that was true.

War was coming. And no matter what Akos said, no matter what anyone said from now on, I was the one who had urged it forward.