The Silence of Medair

It was not new information, for no Ibisian could be unaware of Sar-Ibis' loss. "Estarion has already used wild magic," Medair explained to the Herald. "And brought upon us the Conflagration. Remade Farakkan. Now, if he loses the coming battle, past behaviour suggests that he may again turn to wild magic. Even if he does remember the past as we do, he might again be willing to risk trying to control summoned power. And this time, if he fails, no shield will save Athere."

"Or the rest of Farakkan," the Herald responded, looking doubtful. "Estarion is not so stupid, surely? Did he not put to death a mage in his realm who was experimenting with power beyond herself?"

"He may very well have," the Kier said, taking back control of the conversation. "But the possibility that Estarion might turn to wild magic when he is on the verge of defeat is one we will not overlook. There is also a great deal of unbound power loose in Farakkan, which will complicate any casting we wish to do. We will need to draw again upon your knowledge, Keris N’Taive, for there are obviously many aspects of your world which we have yet to cover."

Kier Inelkar lapsed into a moment’s thoughtful silence before addressing Medair:

"I cannot adequately express our debt to you, Keris an Rynstar," she said. "There is a great deal more I would know, and I hope that you will agree to discuss matters with me at another time. Until then, you will remain our guest." She gestured to Avahn. "Escort Keris an Rynstar to her chambers."

Medair had no objection. She wanted to leave this room of Ibisians, and the thing she had just done, behind her.

Chapter Twenty-One

"Am I under guard, Avahn?"

Avahn hesitated, then lifted his hands, fingers uncurling.

"It is probable," he admitted. "I will ask Illukar, later, exactly what the Kier’s wishes are. They will discuss you, of course."

"Of course." Having dropped her cloak on the divan by the door, Medair sat on the bed, holding her satchel on her lap. She turned the strap over and over between her fingers, surprised at how little she felt. Only exhaustion.

"I had not really thought of what would come after. The choices don’t go away. I’m not what the legends describe, but there are those, I suppose, who would rally to me. Your Kier will not want me free to roam."

"You could be a unifying force in Palladium," he offered, diffidently. "Mend the fractures."

She snorted. "Do I need to do that? The cold blood is dominant, in this world. Mix-bloods are born almost as Ibisian as you are. Surely the Medarists don’t exist any more."

"Mix-bloods were never Medarists. I don’t see why the Hold or any other faction would cease to exist, simply because the object of their hatred stands out the more." He pulled a chair from beneath an elegant writing desk and sat down on it. "How do you know that the blood of the Ibis-lar is dominant?"

"A woman at a tavern – she was outside the shield when the fire came, and went from mostly Farakkian to indistinguishable from Ibis-lar, and spoke of the cold blood being stronger. She was very distressed. Her home is here and she no longer fits it." Medair shrugged. The parallel was obvious, but unlike Esta, Medair could no longer call Athere her home. There was no place for a former Imperial Herald. An unpredictable piece on the marrat board, as Avahn had once said, with too much cause to hate to be trusted.

Avahn, however, had other things on his mind.

"You knew Telsen, didn’t you?"

Medair grimaced. "Telsen really wasn’t a person to emulate, Avahn," she said, lowering her satchel to the floor and kicking it gently beneath the bed. "He–" She thought about it, choosing her words. "He lied, to the benefit of his music and the detriment of others. He created this legend of Medair which makes my position frankly impossible, and, because he loved hidden meanings, managed to ruin my reputation to top everything off. Does the brilliance of his talent excuse the untruths?"

Avahn, abashed, made a gesture of apology with one hand.

"Could he not, could we not be inferring more than he intended? There is nothing said outright."

"More than enough for me to claim injury before a Council of Peers," she replied. "Yes, I knew Telsen. I was briefly his lover. He made up the part about his eternal unfulfilled devotion as well." She frowned at the caustic note in her voice, and went on more equably. "He was a generous man, full of life, but he was also carelessly cruel, and nothing took precedence over his music. Not truth, not loyalty, certainly not women."

"I don’t know what to say."

"Have I ruined all of your illusions, Avahn? It doesn’t change the music. He had a marvellous voice and his songs will be remembered, well, as long as I am."

He smiled at her sadly. "I must do something to restrain this talent of mine for asking the wrong questions. Do you want me to leave you in peace?"