Seraphina(75)

“I don’t recall the case, but that is certainly not policy,” said Comonot, his voice a warning.

“Seraphina,” said my uncle, his hand hovering near my arm.

I ignored him; I wasn’t finished. “Fine. Call it an exceptional circumstance, but could not an exception be made also for my uncle, who has done noth—”

“Scholar Orma, who is this person?” asked the Ardmagar, suddenly on his feet.

I turned toward my uncle, openmouthed. His eyes were closed, his fingers tented in front of his chin as if he were praying. He inhaled deeply through his nose, opened his eyes, and said, “Seraphina is my nameless sister’s daughter, Ardmagar.”

Comonot’s eyes bugged alarmingly. “No … not with that …”

“With him, yes. The human, C—”

“Do not say his name,” ordered the Ardmagar, suddenly the most dispassionate of saarantrai. He considered a moment. “You reported that she died childless.”

“Yes, I reported that,” said Orma. My heart broke a little along with his voice.

“The Censors know you lied,” guessed the Ardmagar shrewdly. “That’s a mark against you; that’s why they won’t let you go. Odd that it was not reported to the Ker.”

Orma shrugged. “As you say, Ardmagar, the Censors aren’t accountable to you.”

“No, but you are. Your scholar’s visa is revoked, saar, as of this instant. You will return home; you will put yourself down for excision. Failure to report to the surgeons within one week’s time will result in a declaration of magna culpa. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

Comonot left us. I turned to Orma so full of rage and horror and sorrow that for a moment I could not speak. “I assumed he knew,” I cried. “Eskar knew.”

“Eskar used to be with the Censors,” said Orma softly.

I threw up my hands in futile despair, pacing around him; Orma stood very, very still, staring at nothing. “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is my fault. I ruin everything, I—”

“No,” said Orma evenly. “I should have sent you out of the room.”

“I assumed you intended to introduce me to him, like with Eskar!”

“No. I kept you here because I … I wanted you here. I thought it would help.” His eyes widened in horror at himself. “They’re right. I am emotionally compromised beyond redemption.”

I wanted so badly to touch his shoulder or take his hand so he would know he was not alone in the world, but I couldn’t do it. He would swat me away like a mosquito.

Yet he’d taken my elbow and wanted me to stay. I struggled with tears. “So you’ll be going home?”

He looked at me like my head had fallen off. “To the Tanamoot? Never. It’s not just a matter of sweeping away ‘emotional detritus,’ not for me. The cancer runs too deep. They’d excise every memory of Linn. Every memory of you.”

“But you’d be alive. Magna culpa means if they find you, they can kill you on sight.” Papa would have been shocked at how many times I’d played the lawyer tonight.

He raised his eyebrows. “If Imlann can survive in the south for sixteen years, I imagine I can manage a few.” He turned to go, then thought better of it. He removed his earring and handed it back to me. “You may still need this.”

“Please, Orma, I’ve already gotten you in so much trouble—”

“That I can’t possibly get into more. Take it.” He wouldn’t stop glaring at me until I’d put the earring back on its cord. “You are all that’s left of Linn. Her own people won’t even say her name. I—I value your continued existence.”

I could not speak; he had pierced me to my very heart.

As was his wont, he bid me no farewell. The full weight of everything that had befallen me, on this longest night of the year, landed squarely upon me, and I stood a very long time, staring at nothing.





I’d been up all night; I staggered off to bed.

I can’t usually sleep during the day, but in truth I did not wish to be awake. Awake was a distinctly unpleasant state to be in. I hurt all over, and when I wasn’t fretting about my uncle, I could not stop thinking about Lucian Kiggs.

An indignant pounding woke me halfway through the afternoon. I had fallen asleep in my clothes, so I rolled out of bed and staggered to the door, barely opening my eyes. A shimmering being, pearly and opalescent, brushed past me imperiously: Princess Glisselda. A gentler presence, who led me to a chair, was Millie.

“What did you do to Lucian?” cried Glisselda, looming over me, hands on her hips.

I couldn’t pull myself into full wakefulness. I stared at her, uncomprehending. And what was there to say? That I had saved his life and made him hate me, all in one go? That I had felt things I should not, and I was sorry?

“The council has just adjourned,” she said, pacing toward the hearth and back. “Lucian told us all about encountering the rogue in the countryside, about your bravery in persuading the dragon not to kill you. You’re quite the pair of investigative heroes.”

“What did the council decide?” I croaked, rubbing an eye with the heel of my hand.

“We’re sending a group of dragons—a petit ard, we’re calling it—into the country, led by Eskar.” She toyed with her long string of pearls, tying it in a large knot. “They’re to stay in their saarantrai except in an emergency; they’ll start at the column of rooks as one place they know Imlann has recently been and attempt to sniff him out from there.