“I …” Maya looked down at her hands. “I will do my best to live up to it.”
“I know you will, my dear.” Basel leaned back in his chair. “Now go and get some rest.”
Maya did, indeed, feel wrung out. She got to her feet, bowed respectfully, and went to the door.
“Oh, one more thing,” Basel said. “I read Tanax’s report from Deepfire. He described your performance at the warehouse as extraordinary.”
“I …” Maya hesitated. “I lost control of myself. Jaedia would have scolded me.”
“Quite possibly,” Basel murmured. “Can I ask if you experienced any aftereffects? In particular …” He tapped his chest, just where the Thing was on Maya.
“I … think so,” Maya said, frowning. “It felt … hot, and the skin around it was inflamed. Then, after I returned, I collapsed for days.” She described her brief period of delirium in the cell. “I thought it was the shock of hearing about Jaedia. Do you think they’re related?”
“It’s … possible.” Basel frowned. “The arcana in question is largely untested. We had some concern that it would react if you channeled deiat too powerfully for too long. Without experiments, I’m afraid we can’t know for sure.”
Maya touched the Thing, the hard knot of it firm against her fingers. “Do you need to examine it?”
“Not at the moment,” Basel said. “Just be cautious, and try not to stretch your limits. When you return with Jaedia, we will see what we can discover.”
“I understand,” Maya said. She bowed again. “Thank you, Kyriliarch.”
“Good luck, Centarch,” Basel murmured as she slipped out the door.
*
It was barely midafternoon, but the prospect of collapsing into bed seemed more and more attractive as Maya made her way down the interminable stairs and back to her own room. Her feet were dragging as she thumbed the latch, and she was trying to decide whether she had energy to change out of her formal tunic when she realized Beq was sitting in her chair. The sight of her sent a bolt of energy running up Maya’s spine, banishing her fatigue, even as the pained expression Beq wore set something twisting in her gut.
“Um,” Maya managed, letting the door close behind her. “Hi.”
“They wouldn’t let me in to see you,” Beq said. The light caught her spectacles and turned them into flat white disks.
“The healers … were very thorough.” Maya shifted her arm and winced. “And until just now I was still under Council restraint.”
“And now?” Beq said.
“I’m a centarch,” Maya said. Stating it like that, so simply, made her feel … strange.
“You won,” Beq said. Her voice was still flat.
“I won.” Maya took a hesitant step forward. “Beq, are you all right?”
“You …” Beq shot up from the chair and crossed the room to meet her. Her face was a mask of rage, and her eyes were full of tears. “You … idiot.” That clearly did little to relieve her feelings, and she went looking for harsher language. “You stupid plaguing fuck. You crazy fucking plaguepit.”
“Beq—”
“You could have died.” Beq squared off across from Maya, hands clenched into fists, shaking with rage. “I saw what happened. When you realized your panoply wasn’t working. You could have stopped the duel.”
“I thought …” Maya took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure if they would let me start it again if I did. Panoplies don’t just fail—”
“You think I don’t know that? Which one of us is the fucking arcanist?” Having gotten onto a good swearing streak, Beq seemed determined to continue. “Someone was trying to kill you, and you found out, and you decided to just … let them have a shot?”
“I didn’t see much other choice.” Maya scratched the back of her neck, embarrassed. “I was a little busy at the time.”
“Chosen fucking defend, Maya.” Beq sucked in a breath. “I have never been so scared in my life. Watching you charge Tanax, and every second thinking this is going to be the moment where you get ripped into bloody chunks. I just … I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even close my eyes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’d better be sorry.” Beq stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Maya, pressing her face into Maya’s shoulder. Her spectacles dug painfully into Maya’s skin, but Maya didn’t complain. “If you do something that fucking stupid and get yourself killed, I’m never speaking to you again.”
Maya didn’t think it was the moment to point out the inherent contradiction there. Beq sniffed, pulled off her spectacles, and pressed her face against Maya’s uniform. Maya gently hugged her back.
“It’s all right,” she whispered as Beq’s frame shook with sobs. “I’m all right.”
“You won,” Beq murmured after a while.
“I won.”
“Now what?”
“Now I go and find Jaedia. She needs my help.”
“I’m coming with you.” Beq’s muffled voice was fierce.
“Of course you are,” Maya said, hugging her a little tighter. “I need you.”
“Okay.” Beq released her hold, slowly, and pulled away. She wiped her reddened eyes and fumbled her spectacles back on, blinking. “Okay. As long as we’re clear on that.”
“As a centarch I can choose my own support personnel,” Maya said. “Not that I would make you come if you didn’t want to, of course. But you can travel with me as long as you like, and there’s nothing the Order can do about it.”
“That’s … good.” Beq sniffed. “I’m sorry I called you a crazy plaguepit.”
“It’s all right,” Maya said. “I probably deserved it.”
“I need to sit down.”
Maya guided Beq to the chair and poured them each a mug of water. She took a seat on the bed, facing Beq.
“We have to leave as soon as we can,” Maya said. “I don’t know where Jaedia is now, but the longer we wait, the harder she’ll be to find. And the worse trouble she might be in. Can you be ready by tomorrow?”
Beq nodded. “I just need a few hours to gather my gear. And I’m nearly finished decoding Nicomidi’s messages to Raskos. It’s going a lot faster now that I don’t have to worry about him spotting me in the archives.”
“Is there anything useful there? Basel agrees he must have been involved with whatever happened to Jaedia, but we still don’t know why.”
“I’m not certain,” Beq said. “Nicomidi and Raskos were definitely working together. He’s coy about it in the messages, but I think Nicomidi had Raskos on the lookout for particular pieces of arcana.”
“That makes sense,” Maya said. She remembered the horde in Raskos’ warehouse. “Raskos certainly seemed to have his fingers in everything. But what was Nicomidi getting out of it? Money? What would that get him that he couldn’t already have?”
“Nicomidi was insistent that some finds be kept secret from the Council.”