“Excellent,” Aaron said. “Strang? Any questions?”
“I—I’m not sure how the High Priest Justine would have felt about living in such a colorful place. It could be very distracting.” He scratched his head. “It doesn’t feel right when everything we hate about the creative people would be so evident and, ah, in our faces. I mean, the flowers and trees, and I can only imagine what the inside of that dreadful place must look like. . . .” He trailed off.
“I can assure you,” Aaron said, “if only Justine had been given time to take over Artimé before she was expelled from this life, she would have made that mansion hers. She would have thought it a waste to tear down a structure so useful. And while the decor is ridiculous, it could be toned down to a nice shade of gray and we could get rid of all the useless things. And let’s not forget how Justine was decorating this palace. She had plants. Indoors.” He shook his head.
Strang wiped his forehead.
Gondoleery leaned toward Aaron. “But wait,” she said. “You’re assuming Justine would have been able to keep the magic going. Don’t forget what happened when Marcus Today was killed. How are you going to keep Artimé if there aren’t any Unwanteds running the magical world? We’d need someone who at least knows a little bit about magic.” She batted her eyelashes innocently and glanced at Eva. “Because clearly none of us can do a thing.”
Eva’s mouth twitched. She glanced at Liam, saw he was watching Gondoleery, and dropped her eyes to the table.
Aaron’s expression barely flickered, but he wondered now just what the extent of his abilities was—if he could make a living statue’s tail from a vine and release shackles from his wrists, maybe he could do more. Maybe he could run the magic in Quill. He hadn’t even begun to explore the boundaries of his abilities. “I’m still working out the details,” he said coolly, “but I won’t be disclosing my solutions until I know who is interested in helping me take Quill to a stronger, more powerful level.”
Strang shifted uncomfortably. “High Priest, if I may.” He coughed and took a sip of water. “I—I would like to be a governor again, if for the pure reason of making Quill stronger. But I don’t need any colorful world or mansion to live in. I need no reward at all.”
“Suit yourself,” Aaron said matter-of-factly. He smiled, pleased. “So that’s two fine governors so far.” He turned to Gondoleery. “Need more time to think? Or shall I look for someone else to take the spot I’ve been holding for you?”
Gondoleery fingered a dried-up scab on her wrist. “Oh, I’ll take the job, all right,” she said. She stood abruptly. “When do we start?”
Aaron held back a smile. “Now. Your first task, each of you, is to figure out ways to create distrust and unrest between our people and the people of Artimé. I don’t mean physical altercations in Artimé like you’ve done in the past, Liam. What we need to do is get all of Quill to begin banking their rage once more—building up their anger toward Artimé the way Justine did it when she was high priest, through words and ideas. Through thoughts.” He hesitated. “And I suppose a few faked incidents of injustice to our people would help speed things up. After all, I don’t want to spend fifty years getting there. And,” he added, “I’d maybe even like to give the people of Artimé a little hint of whom they are dealing with.” He studied the faces before him to see their reactions.
Eva Fathom frowned. Strang stared at the table, his leg jiggling nervously. Liam studied Aaron, tapping his lips. And Aaron could see by the look in Gondoleery’s eyes that her thoughts were far, far away.
» » « «
Later, after Strang and Gondoleery had left, Aaron turned to Eva and Liam. “It’s time for a speech from the beloved high priest,” he said. “Prepare for a gathering in the Commons.” He gave a curt nod good night and headed to his bedroom.
Eva walked with Liam to the stairs that would take him up to his room.
“He’s dangerous on a small scale,” Eva whispered once Aaron was out of earshot. “Gondoleery’s the one we need to watch.”
“Forgive me—I still don’t quite understand what’s going on,” Liam said.
Eva pressed her lips together, debating. Should she tell him what she suspected? What she knew and remembered to be true? If Gondoleery had mastered ice, and was now covered in burns, it wouldn’t be long before Quill would be swirling in dust. And Eva wasn’t strong enough to take on Aaron and Gondoleery single-handedly. She had to risk it.
She leaned forward. “I’ve known Marcus, Justine, and Gondoleery since we were young children,” she said. “And when I was a child, I could make it rain.”
The Story of Eva Fathom
Eva’s eyes darted down the hallway to make sure the high priest hadn’t returned. “Can I trust you?”
Liam whispered, “You know you can, and I think you already do. You’ve known where I stood ever since you tested me in Haluki’s house. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That you and I are on the same side—against him?”
Eva peered at him in the shadows. “I tested you, yes. I suggested the prisoners should be killed. You couldn’t respond. That was the moment I knew—you’re absolutely right.”
“I couldn’t kill Claire or anyone. Eva, I buried the mage of Artimé. I feel sick about it still. What he—what Aaron was doing . . .” Liam’s face was desperate. “It was wrong, Eva. I know that now. I’d rather be sent back to the Ancients Sector than do anything like that again. And now I’m living this farce. . . .”