“An-Hadrea’s right, though,” Jov said. “The mood of the people isn’t good. They’re angry and they’re hungry. If they were beating up Darfri a week ago, what will they do if they think Talafar is behind all this?” He took a sip of water and pushed the cup across the table toward Tain like a challenge.
Tain stared at it. The silence stretched between them.
Every meal had become a battleground. While Tain focused on the grander scheme of problems—how to feed our citizens, defend the upper city, find a way to negotiate with the rebels—Jov retreated into the part of his life he still felt he had control over: his duty to the Chancellor. He obsessed over the potential threat to Tain, as if protecting him could redeem the broader failures of our family. Tain, on the other hand, seemed to process his own guilt as a repudiation of the trappings of the Chancellery; with every meal, his discomfort at his friend’s role grew more obvious, as did his impatience with the restrictions on eating and drinking while he tried to scramble to save the city. Their friendship grew more brittle every day. Tain hadn’t yet defied Jovan, but inevitably Jov’s prickly honor and Tain’s unease would clash at some point.
I rubbed my eyes. My face felt too small for my skull. Honor-down, I hoped it wasn’t today. I was exhausted, physically and mentally, and we had so little time to be alone together now.
Tain took a slow sip of the water, and I let my breath out in relief. Deferred for another day. I was about to comment on what I’d seen of the siege tower this morning when Jov spoke suddenly.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
“I agree,” Tain said, relief pouring from his voice in a rush. “Honor-down, Jov, I’ve been—”
“Half of them know anyway. Probably more than half, truth be told. It’s a waste of our time and attention, playing these games.”
“What?” Tain set the cup down. “What are you—”
“I say we stop hiding,” my brother plowed on. Some part of me took a tiny bit of amusement in seeing Tain so flummoxed; he had probably never been interrupted so much in his life. “You’ve got to be able to eat. No one will accuse you of dishonor, not now that everyone seems to know Caslav was poisoned.”
Tain shook his head. “You’re talking about proofing in front of people? I thought we were talking about us moving on from this. Putting yourself in the poisoner’s path, it’s not right. I’m not all right with it.”
Jovan looked at Tain as if he’d slapped him. I shrank back into my chair, wishing to disappear.
“You know how much I value you,” Tain said. “Your family’s always protected mine. But now … there’s no good in you constantly risking your life for me.”
“No good? That’s what I’m for.”
I understood, honor-down I understood how much our family duty meant to him, but it broke my heart a tiny bit to hear my brother express it like that. “Jov…” He sprang to his feet, ignoring me, and paced with one hand to his head as if to contain whatever swirled around in there.
“That’s our family’s honor you’re talking about. That’s everything we are. We protect you, we advise you. We’re your shield. You need us more than ever.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tain said, his temper flaring. “Since when is dying so honorable? Haven’t we had enough bloody dying around here?”
All three of us startled at a rattle outside the room. One of Tain’s servant guards stepped in.
“Sorry to interrupt, Honored Chancellor,” she said, ducking her head. “You asked me to let you know when you were due at the bridge?”
“Yes, of course.” Tain closed his eyes a moment, visibly containing his emotions, then smiled at the guard and stood.
The argument was over for now. But we could never go back to the way things had been before.
* * *
Quite a crowd had gathered to watch the grim spectacle. The wind had picked up, its distant howl a constant buzz in the background. The whole Council was gathered on the steps up to Bell’s Bridge; Tain had forced them all to attend. “If I’m going to be remembered as the Chancellor who destroyed some of the best architecture in the world, they can at least stand with me as the Council that endorsed it,” he’d said. There were some sulky and resentful expressions during his short speech, reminding everyone of the necessity of protecting ourselves but also the surety that we would rebuild Bell’s in time. As soon as he had finished, the majority of the Council dispersed. Eliska had promised destroying the support pillars for the bridge itself would not destabilize the stairs, but most Councilors either didn’t care to risk it or wanted to distance themselves as much as possible from the decision.
The engineer Baina was up on the top of the steps, yelling instructions at the men and women doing the last checks on the acid damage in her heavy, brash voice. Eliska and Marco stood between Jov and Tain, pointing and explaining something to them while Tain nodded, his face grim. Dozens of other workers and engineers went up and down the stairs, making last-minute adjustments and reports. Ectar, unaccompanied by servants, made his way up there, too, possibly in an attempt to gain an unscheduled audience with Tain. His persistence was indisputable. He looked down and found me in the crowd, the eye contact registering even from back here. I half-raised an awkward hand in a wave.
The herd of animals, all connected with a complex harness-and-pulley system to the closest, partially submerged, support pillars, would be heading away from us to make sure there was no risk of flying debris in our direction. Eliska called out for everyone to take safe positions, and the movement of people between the stairs and the crowd petered out, then stopped altogether.
“Bloody shame this is,” an old man beside me muttered.
As if protesting its fate, the great bell hanging beneath the bridge made a tinny little whine in the wind.
I caught a glimpse of a familiar person, just a shape in the crowd heading up to the platform. Too quick to process. My attention caught. Something about her registered as wrong even as I struggled to catch another look. There, moving up the stairs.
“Everyone back!” Eliska shouted into her speaking trumpet. The last of the engineers clambered up onto the bridge and back to the platform.
The sewer guard, the one who helped us set the trap. Last I’d seen her, she’d been led away by an Order Guard who was comforting her after she’d accidentally killed Ectar’s servant. She wasn’t in the Builders’ Guild or assigned to guard duty for any of the Councilors. What was she doing there?
“Positions!”
I looked up at Ectar again. He had managed to move close to Tain, almost behind him, and hovered there waiting. He glanced down at me again, this time with a smile.
I took a step out from the crowd. “Get back!” someone called, but my legs moved forward on their own. Was the guard the person Marco had assigned to watch Ectar? Was she following him? The sense of wrongness intensified. There had been nothing subtle about that guard, and she had taken the bribe from Ectar’s servant; he might well have been able to identify her. And she had apparently been traumatized by her involvement. There was no way Marco or any of the Guards would have set her on such a task. My breath caught in my chest. Honor-down, what was she doing up there?