“It’s better to know the truth rather than to continue with half the information you require. I know from experience.”
“I appreciate it,” Jenstad said. “It’s just all hard to believe.”
“I know the feeling,” Cyrene said.
“Okay, Isabylle’s home is here. She’s technically my niece—I don’t know—my cousin’s daughter, which is like my second cousin or cousin first removed or something. It’s confusing. She lives near me.” He shook his head and then knocked on the door. “Isa, it’s Jen. Open up.”
“Jenstad!” Rita’s voice came from the other side. “Thank Creator. Your father locked us in here. Please help get us out of here.”
Cyrene gasped. “What in the Creator? Rita, we’re here. Why would he have locked you up?”
Cyrene gestured for Dean to open the door. He sent a thread of air through the lock, easily lifting it and letting the door swing open.
Jenstad’s mouth dropped open. “How?”
“Air magic,” Cyrene said with a wink. “Handy, huh?”
“I could do that?”
“Probably. But first, focus.”
Rita and Isabylle rushed out. “Dalwin said that he wouldn’t let anyone else know about my return. That he didn’t want any of the zealots, he called them, know about the rise of the seeker. He’s planning to kick us all out before anyone rises and sweep it all under the rug. No council or anything.”
Cyrene sighed. Of course he was. Why hadn’t she guessed?
“Well, we can’t have that,” Cyrene said.
“What a bastard!” Jenstad grumbled.
“Jen!” Isabylle reprimanded.
“Sorry, kiddo,” he said, ruffling her dark hair.
“We should return to the training room,” Cyrene said. “I need time to think about what to do.”
They were just about to leave when Quidera arrived at a run. She slowed when she saw all of them standing together. “Well, this is convenient. I shouldn’t even ask how you got out of the locked rooms, should I?”
“Probably not,” Dean said.
“What is going on here, Quidera?” Rita asked. “Dalwin is sending us away.”
“I know. I just heard. I wasn’t involved, and he threatened to banish me if I said a word.”
Jenstad and Isabylle gasped in unison.
“Into the Tygh with no water?” Jenstad murmured.
“Creator,” Cyrene whispered.
“That’s murder,” Dean added.
Quidera stepped forward. “I won’t let it happen. I’m a true believer in the way of the seeker. I believe what you have told us and that our time is now. But I cannot get you out. Dalwin has secured Aleut for the night.”
“What do we do?” Jenstad asked.
Cyrene tapped her lip and stepped away from the group as her mind spun over everything that she had learned this night. Then she glanced up at her waiting company. Rita, Isabylle, Jenstad, Quidera, and finally, Dean. All watching and waiting for an answer from her.
“Okay…I have an idea.” She grinned. “It’s a bit ambitious.”
Dean laughed. “My favorite.”
“Here’s what I think we should do.”
17
The True Believer
“I hate waiting,” Cyrene admitted as she paced the small room they’d originally been confined in. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”
Dean shrugged. He was sitting peacefully on the bed against the wall where he’d been meditating for hours. Cyrene was the worst at meditating. She’d never figured out how to get her brain to calm down long enough for it. Mindfulness wasn’t her strong suit.
“I think you should sit down,” he said.
“I know you do.”
She was lucky that she’d gotten any sleep with the plans she’d put together in effect. But eventually, Dean had forced her to get into bed and close her eyes. She’d hardly been able to stand up. Let alone lead. A few hours later, she’d woken up feeling infinitely better. Though she wouldn’t mind a hearty breakfast right about now.
“I wish we knew the hour,” she said. “How can they be on any type of schedule while underground like this?”
“They’ve lived here their whole lives. You adjust.”
“I suppose.”
She had just finished another circuit of the small room when there was a knock at the door. Dean slid smoothly to his feet and came to her side. She silenced the anxiety that had been eating at her. Just faced the door with all the serenity she didn’t feel.
The lock turned, and then the door opened. Quidera stood before them. She nodded once at Cyrene. “Hello, Domina. I hope that your stay was pleasant. Councilman Dalwin is here with me to escort you out today.”
“Thank you,” she said carefully, stepping out into the hallway to find Dalwin with three guards. “My stay was quite pleasant. Thank you for your…hospitality.”
Dalwin smiled. “Great. Great. Wonderful. Let’s get going then.”
Cyrene fell into step with him as they traversed the underground city. “This is quite a city that you have here. How was it created?”
“It began as a mining colony, and as the Tygh intensified, the entire colony moved underground for protection,” he said magnanimously.
“Very clever,” she said smoothly.
“I hope that you understand why we don’t allow foreigners. If the word got out about our home, it might mean the end of our way of life.”
Cyrene smiled. “Yes, I completely understand that.”
“Good. Good. I’m glad that we are on the same page.”
“Indeed. And the council meeting?” she pressed, giving him one more chance to change his tune.
“Of course, the council meeting,” he said pleasantly. “We’ll have one to discuss your appearance and the claims that you brought forward. But, as you can understand, we’re very busy with other matters. The council only meets so regularly. It could be weeks or months before we’re all together and able to get to this.”
“I see.”
“I’d love to get it on the table as soon as possible.”
“Would you?” she asked, silently seething.
“Absolutely. You bring forth so many interesting new theories to discuss.”
“Theories.”
Dalwin grinned as if they were speaking the same language. “Yes. About water seeking and the coming of a new age for the Tygh.”
“Hmm,” she murmured as they came up to the main thoroughfare that led to the exit. It must have still been early enough in their morning, for hardly anyone was out milling around. He was trying to force her to flee without more people seeing her.
“Unfortunately, we cannot allow you to stay for weeks or months on end.”
“No, I don’t have time to wait for the council,” she said simply.
Dalwin was about to respond when a commotion began at the end of the long thoroughfare. Cheers and chants and then the sound of drums beating a sharp tune. Dalwin turned to the commotion in shock and then horror.