\hypertarget{chapter-18-crack}{%
\section{Chapter 18: Crack}\label{chapter-18-crack}}

\begin{quote}
\emph{``Kingdoms don't die on battlefields. They die in dark, quiet
rooms where deals are made between those who should know better.''}

-- King Edward Alban of Callow, best known for annexing the Kingdom of
Liesse
\end{quote}

Masego's mage tower did not even attempt to look like anything else. It
was at least a hundred feet tall, for one, which was taller than some
keeps I'd come across. But that alone could have been the work of
masons. The moat surrounding it was a different story: twenty feet wide
and circling the building, it held no water but instead pitch-black
darkness. No bottom could be seen, and a few months back I'd dropped a
stone to see if it would do anything. As far as I knew, it was still
falling. Apprentice had been particularly cagey about telling me exactly
where the Hells it led, if anywhere, but that was in part my own fault.
I'd flatly forbidden him to proceed with his original notion, which had
been to fill a normal moat with giant fire-breathing lizards. Not
dragons, he'd been very insistent in telling me. They didn't have wings,
and weren't nearly as large. But the idea of those things inevitably
getting loose and either rampaging across Marchford or making a lair in
one of the silver mines had led me to put my foot down.

He'd been very snippy about it.

There was a single stone arch leading across the moat to the dark iron
gate in front, wide for two people at a time at most and bare of any
railing. There was a reason I picked messengers that weren't faint of
heart when trying to get in contact with him. I tread across carefully.
The entire surface of the tower was covered in grey mosaics and leering
carvings of obsidian, which he'd assured me were there for purely
magical purposes. He'd thrown enough magic babble at me to justify that
point that I was pretty sure that he just really liked how it looked.
Being raised by a devil and a villain had let my friend to have some
fairly specific tastes in architecture, sadly, which could be best
described as `nightmare trying to seem friendly and failing'. The iron
gate was covered in runes, and there was no knocker. In the centre, an
iron-cast wolf's head stood out from the surface and animated when I
arrived. There was a devil bound inside, I knew, though Masego had tried
to not say as much by referring to it as `an entity from a secondary
realm of existence'.

``A visitor,'' the wolf said. ``Only the worthy may gain entrance here.
To prove your wit, answer me this riddle-``

``Answer mine first,'' I replied flatly. ``Who's going to find out if my
punches can dent iron if they don't open right now?''

The wolf paused.

``That is now how this usually goes,'' it complained.

``I get that a lot,'' I smiled thinly.

``Your name is on the allowed list,'' it said. ``You may enter.''

There was a pause, then it added \emph{uncouth barbarian} in a loud
whisper. I flicked its eye out of spite even as a doorway opened on the
surface, ignoring its yelp and string of curses. The lowest level of the
tower was much like any entrance hall decorated by a Praesi with too
much gold to waste, though there was one major difference. Namely, the
winged tapir that was fleeing down the stairs with loud shrieks as a
dark-skinned woman in robes ran after it. It'd been a while since I'd
last seen Fadila Mbafeno. Once one of Akua's minions, I'd nearly killed
her in Liesse before Masego intervened and said she was too talented a
practitioner to waste. He'd extracted an oath from her to be safe she
wouldn't turn, in the early days, though she'd since been freed of it.
Those kinds of binding magical oaths caused some fairly vicious
side-effects if allowed to linger for too long. There was a burst of
blue light from the Soninke's hands and shining chains emerged from her
sleeve, wrapping around the shrieking tapir and forcing its wings and
feet to stop moving. She grunted in effort when dragging it back to her.
I cleared my throat and had to admit I found the look of surprise and
panic on her face when she realized I was here delightful.

``Fadila,'' I said. ``Keeping busy, I see.''

The winged tapir kept shrieking at the top of its lungs until she kicked
it, at which point it moaned plaintively.

``Lady Squire,'' she said, panting. ``Some of the specimens occasionally
get\ldots{} rowdy.''

I snorted.

``First time I met Masego,'' I said, ``he was catching a fire-breathing
pig with wings.''

I squinted at the tapir.

``That doesn't breathe fire, right?''

``He does not,'' Fadila replied, trying for poise. ``Which has very
interesting implications, considering the amount of sorcery he's been
exposed to.''

``I'm, uh, sure it does,'' I lied. ``Masego should be expecting me.''

``He's set up the scrying room on the second level,'' the Soninke said.

Oh, good. Then he'd found a way to get in contact with Black like I'd
asked him. Apparently it was possible if we took advantage of the relay
system the Empress used to receive my teacher's reports, but he'd told
me piggybacking on that without killing some of the mages involved would
require some finagling.

``You have fun with this abomination of nature, then,'' I said
cheerfully, passing her by.

The tapir was licking her feet in what I gauged to be a gesture of
appeasement, but she didn't seem moved by the offering. By the time I
was nearing the second level the shrieking had started again. The door
to the scrying room was already open, so I wasted no time in going. This
wasn't the kind of place where it was healthy to wander, no matter what
Apprentice insisted. The man in question was kneeling in front of a wall
covered entirely by polished silver, the work so finely done it worked
as a mirror. He muttered something under his breath and the silver shone
for a heartbeat before dulling.

``Figured it out?'' I asked.

Apprentice rose to his feet, brushing off his shoulder.

``If I shunt off enough of the Due into a dispersal ward, the weight
shouldn't cascade,'' he told me.

``An obvious solution,'' I said, pretending I knew what any of that
meant.

He eyed me sceptically but didn't bother to call me out.

``I can initiate the connection at any time,'' he said.

``Before you do that, we need a little chat,'' I said. ``I don't want to
keep you in the dark, so I'll just state it outright: I might have
dabbled a bit in treason.''

``Dabbled?'' he said, frowning over his glasses.

``You know, dipped a toe in the treason pool,'' I said.

``I wish you would have told me beforehand,'' he replied. ``Now I'll
need to rework Marchford's ward pattern to be able to face advanced
scrying rituals.''

I cocked my head to the side.

``That's it?''

``Oh no, treason,'' he said in a mockingly high-pitched voice. ``No
villain has ever done such a thing before. All my extensive interest in
Imperial politics is now put in danger.''

I snorted.

``What's that voice supposed to even represent?'' I asked.

``How little I care about any of this,'' he replied frankly. ``I'm sure
you'll find some compromise with Uncle Amadeus, and the Empress probably
knew you were going to do this before the thought ever crossed your
mind.''

The bespectacled mage pressed his hand against the mirror-wall, spoke a
word in the arcane tongue and idly made for the door.

``Now, if you'll excuse me,'' he said. ``I think one of the tapirs got
loose.''

``Stuff like this is why you don't get to have giant fire-breathing
lizards,'' I called out.

``You have no standards, Squire,'' he complained one last time before
closing the door behind him.

The wall had been pulsing this entire time, but with a silvery ring an
image came into focus. Pale green eyes met mine as I leaned against a
table. Black's brow rose in surprise.

``Catherine,'' he greeted me. ``Masego tapped into the relays?''

``The technicalities went over my head, but yes,'' I said. ``Hello,
Black. It's been a while.''

``It has,'' he agreed calmly. ``I expect you've a reason for this. We'll
have to rebuild the entire network now -- this will have sent flares for
anyone looking.''

``This morning,'' I said, ``I founded a chivalric order.''

The pale man did not seem particularly surprised, though it was always
hard to tell with him.

``I wondered if they'd get in touch with you,'' he said. ``I assumed
they already would have, if they were ever going to.''

I blinked.

``You knew there were knights in hiding?''

He seemed amused.

``I am not without Eyes, even in the south,'' he said. ``Though I can't
say this strikes me as a wise decision. Making such a bold move for a
few hundred men in cavalry is inviting backlash for limited gain.''

``Two thousand,'' I said quietly. ``Likely more.''

He wasn't openly shocked. He had too much control for that. But his face
went blank, for a heartbeat, and that was the closest thing he'd ever
show.

``I miscalculated,'' he said, and I could see his mind working furiously
behind the calm. ``No centralized organization -- ah, relying on local
support. Cells with no contact after the initial founding. Whoever came
up with the notion is most likely dead by now. What a waste.''

Only Black, I thought, would go within moments from realizing he'd been
outsmarted to being saddened at the loss of such talent.

``I thought you'd be angrier,'' I said.

``Angry?'' he mused. ``You'll have folded them into the Fifteenth, if
I'm not mistaken. You've obtained half a legions' worth of the finest
heavy cavalry on Calernia for the Empire. Pleased would be closer to the
truth, though doing this without Malicia's sanction will bring
trouble.''

I frowned.

``She wouldn't have given it,'' I said.

``Not without exacting concessions in exchange,'' he said. ``Which
you'll have to make anyway, unless you intend to wage ware on the
Empire.''

His eyes narrowed a fraction as he studied me.

``If that is your intent, giving me prior warning was a mistake,'' he
said.

``I don't want to fight you,'' I confessed. ``But I don't think you'll
like what I'm about to do.''

``You know where I draw the line,'' he reminded me.

``I'm not going to oversee the eradication of my own people's culture,
Black,'' I said.

``Then don't,'' the dark-haired man frowned. ``I take no issue with
Callowans having a way of life, only the aspects of it that threaten
Imperial control.''

``Imperial control is what got us here in the first place,'' I flatly
replied.

``An independent Callow is not feasible,'' he said carefully. ``You know
this.''

``I know,'' I said. ``But if this is going to work, there's going to be
a need for heads on spikes. The rot needs to be cut out or we'll be here
again in five years.''

``You've more immediate threats to deal with than the Wasteland,'' he
said after a moment.

He was not disagreeing with me and it was enough to have me shiver. He'd
told me, once, that after the civil war that saw Malicia crowned he'd
wanted to get rid of the Wastelands' nobility. It was the Empress who'd
stopped him. I wouldn't be going that far, but -- \emph{he was not
disagreeing with me}.

``I do,'' I said. ``But after\ldots{}''

``After,'' he agreed softly. ``When I return.''

His image on the wall turned and I heard someone speak to him.

``Then block it,'' Black said. ``Before they can-``

The mirror-wall dulled, my teacher's profile disappearing without
warning and leaving only my face looking back at me. I breathed out
slowly. So I wasn't burning this bridge by doing what I intended to.
Relief flooded me as I closed my eyes. I stayed there for a moment, and
eventually I thought back to an evening long ago, on a balcony where a
storm was gathering. I'd asked Black a question, back then and I could
still hear his reply like he'd just spoken it. \emph{When they get in
your way? Step on them.}

Of all the lessons he'd taught me, I thought, I had learned that one
best.

---

``So are you going to tell me why you made sure I wouldn't be at that
meeting?'' Kilian asked.

We'd come to share a wineskin by the ruins of had once been Marchford
Manor, the blackened remains swept away months ago by Pickler's sappers.
Rain and wind had scattered the ashes, leaving behind only the remains
of the garden and the gaggle of statues that had filled it. The two of
us were seated on a scorched stone bench, its once-elaborate carvings
now hidden by soot. I passed her the wineskin and watched my lover drink
from the Vale summer wine. Night had just fallen, the moon slowly
climbing to its apex. I hesitated for a moment, then forged on.

``I've gone against the Empress,'' I said.

The quarter-fae was lovely, in the shade. Her red hair had grown long
enough it bordered the limit of what was acceptable by Legions
regulation, framing her pale face and hazelnut eyes like a tongue of
flame. Kilian set down the wineskin after a moment.

``The noble Juniper put in a cell,'' she finally said. ``He talked you
into something.''

``I've been headed there, I think,'' I said, ``since the moment I
learned there was a coup in Laure.''

``There will be consequences to that,'' the redhead softly said.

``There would be consequences to doing nothing,'' I replied. ``I chose
the ones I could live with.''

She remained silent for a long time. I could feel her, now, in a way
that I previously could not. The bundle of power inside of me sang out
when it came closer to the smaller sister-thing inside her. I no longer
needed to hear or see her to know when she was in a room.

``You've never been very good at compromise,'' Kilian said.

I frowned.

``I've done almost nothing but for the last two years,'' I replied.

``You compromise,'' the lovely mage said, ``when the other is stronger.
And you are no longer powerless.''

``I'm not sure what you're saying,'' I admitted.

She smiled gently at me.

``Why did you not tell me with the others?'' she asked.

``I thought I owed it to you for it to be just the two of us,'' I said.

She drank another mouthful of wine, then passed me the skin.

``Catherine,'' she said. ``Don't lie to me.''

``I'm not-``

``You didn't want me in that room,'' Kilian said calmly, ``because if I
left you over this, you didn't want it to happen in front of the
others.''

I very nearly denied that. But instead I took the wineskin and drank.

``The thought might have crossed my mind,'' I said.

``I'm not sure whether I should take that as a kindness or an insult,''
she murmured, looking up.

It'd been a long time since I'd last felt without so much as a speck of
control over a conversation. I hadn't missed the feeling.

``When we started this,'' Kilian said. ``I knew I'd always be third in
line. Behind Callow, behind the the Fifteenth. On a good day, if duties
allowed, I might wiggle up to second. But not often.''

I felt my stomach knot.

``Kilian, I know we haven't spent a lot of time together lately. I've
not been able to-``

She leaned into me and pressed a kiss against my shoulder.

``I'm not angry about it, Cat,'' she said. ``I just told you, I knew
that from the start. But you're leaving me behind. That's just a fact.''

``I'm not,'' I insisted.

``I have fae blood,'' she said. ``But you took two people into Arcadia,
and I wasn't one of them.''

``Kilian, it was \emph{dangerous},'' I said. ``The kind of things I do
in places like that, the kind of risks I take, they're\ldots{}''

``Too much for me,'' she finished after I hesitated. ``Because I'm
weak.''

``You're one of the best mages in the Fifteenth,'' I said.

She chuckled wearily.

``And what does that matter, when you have the Apprentice at your
side?'' she said.

``I don't share a bed with Masego, for one,'' I sharply replied.

``Is that what I'm to be remembered as, then?'' Kilian said. ``The girl
who warmed your bed on your way to power?''

``That's not what I meant and you know it,'' I said. ``I \emph{trust}
you.''

Her eyes met mine.

``Then why wasn't I in that room?''

I looked away first.

``Just because I was afraid doesn't mean I don't trust you,'' I said.
``I've told you things I've never told anyone before, Kilian.''

``And I love you for that,'' the redhead smiled. ``Even though it's
stupid and dangerous and it might just get me killed.''

The rush that came with her saying those words had never dimmed and I
gloried in it for a moment. But then the smile went away.

``But now I think of the conversation you had with them, earlier,'' she
said. ``And I know you made a decision. You needed to convince all of
them, and there was a risk I could distract from that effort. So you
made the call.''

She sighed.

``You know, I think the better part of everyone you love in this world
was in that room,'' she mused. ``And you manipulated them anyway. I
don't believe you had that in you, when we first met.''

\emph{You're wrong,} I thought. \emph{I'd just never had a reason to use
it.}

``I'm glad you do now,'' she murmured. ``We'll need it to survive the
coming months. But I have to think of myself too.''

``I thought you were happy,'' I murmured. ``With us, with-``

\emph{Me}, I left unsaid.

``I am,'' she said, laying a hand on my cheek. ``But you're leaving me
behind, Cat. And the kind of things I would have to do to catch up would
end us anyway.''

``I don't believe that,'' I said.

``As long as I don't control my blood,'' she said, ``My magic is
shackled.''

``Masego could find a way,'' I said.

``He already has,'' she replied. ``It's an old ritual. It requires
sacrifice, and would make me as a full-fledged fae.''

``Kilian, I'd put half of Winter on an altar if it helped you,'' I
honestly said.

``It would require humans as a stabilizing element,'' she added quietly.

My heart skipped a beat.

``You can't seriously be considering that,'' I said.

``It could all be done lawfully,'' she said. ``It would be costly to buy
the death row prisoners, but demand has lessened and I've the funds for
it.''

``It's not about the law,'' I hissed. ``It's about \emph{decency}.
They're people, not things.''

The redhead chuckled softly.

``You can take the girl out of Callow,'' she said. ``But not Callow out
of the girl.''

``You're Duni,'' I said.

As good as Callowan, in most Wastelanders' eyes.

``\emph{They} make that distinction, not me,'' Kilian said, tone
hardening as she withdrew her hand. ``I am Praesi, Catherine. It's not
any more a crime for me to love my home than you yours.''

``This isn't about where we're from,'' I replied, aghast. ``It's about
\emph{human sacrifice}.''

``And how many of us will die so you can make what you want out of
Callow?'' she said tiredly. ``I don't see much of a difference. At least
it's strangers I would be using.''

``There is,'' I started, but stopped when she lay a hand on my shoulder.

``I don't want to have this fight, Cat,'' she said. ``If I did I would
have brought up the notion when I first learned of it. I'll just say
this: if there's anyone who should be able to understand how hateful it
is to have a yoke around your neck, it's you. To just be\ldots{}
\emph{less} than you could be.''

``There's lines you can't uncross,'' I said.

``And how many of those have you left behind?'' she replied quietly,
rising to her feet.

My stomach dropped.

``That's it?'' I said. ``Just like that you're leaving me?''

\emph{Because I won't condone bleeding people like} \emph{animals}, I
bit down on. Kilian's face was hard to read in the dark, but there was
no joy on it.

``No,'' she finally said. ``But I need to think. About what compromises
I'm willing to make to make you happy.''

She passed a hand through her hair.

``I'll be sleeping in the barracks from now on,'' Kilian said. ``Take
care of yourself, Catherine. It only gets harder from here.''

I watched her walk away in silence, and kept watching long after she was
gone. Eventually I looked up at the moon, and wondered if I was even
still capable of crying.
