Sovereign of Wrath

Chapter 235: Valleys of Happiness

Returning to Astrye was a little bit strange. I wasn’t shooed off the balcony that was no longer mine, and Seyari had packed all our belongings into two boxes at the foot of the bed. There were still a few backdated items that needed signing, and I realized they’d be the last time I was signing under my title.

I missed it a little—I’d just gotten my signature the way I’d liked it. At least I could use it for contracts, something I was acutely reminded of in my meeting with Taava. She’d chosen the place, which meant I was crammed into her room with her. She had the bed; I took the floor.

Unlike my and Sey’s two boxes, she’d fit her possessions into a backpack, lute tuned and strapped to the side.

“You quit?” I asked her simply, repeating what I’d been told.

“Yep!” she replied. “Shyll’ll have ta find someone else ta boss around. ‘Sides, they weren’t gonna just let me leave.”

“So Sey was right.”

Taava blinked. “Yeah, it happens. ‘Bout what?”

“‘Bout you arguing your way out of the job,” I replied, mimicking her accent.

She snorted, the tip of her tail flicking playfully behind her. “Well it didn’t quite work. Anywho, I’m all ready, but I figure you and me’re not goin’ ta the same places. Not like before,” she finished with a note of melancholy.

“You can change that,” I offered.

“Nah.” She shook her head. “Listen, Boss. You lot’ve been a big help, and ya mean a lot ta me. But I got more folks waitin’ beyond, and I’m not gonna leave ‘em in the lurch forever, ya know?”

I nodded solemnly; this was her decision.

“‘Sides, I’d get caught out if I were anythin’ but mortal.” She pulled a knife out of somewhere and twirled it between her fingers. “Bein’ underestimated’s a good gig; but ya probably know that. And if folks are dense enough ta think a big slab a muscle like you’s a pushover”—she prodded me with the knife tip—“well then I’m real well off.

“The point I’m tryin’ ta get at is simple: let me be the quick-thinkin’, sharp-tongued, best-singin’ mortal ya know and get ya the info you high and mighty folks aren’t gonna see. Ow!” She nicked the tip of her finger while twirling and sucked on it.

I stared at the drop of blood on her knife tip and tried not to think of how fragile a lot of my best friends were. “Sey said we should set you up as a crime boss.”

“Like Garvin?” She spat out her finger and stuck out her tongue. “Heck no. I’m gonna run a network a bards. We’ll play at every tavern, busk every streetcorner in the city! And other cities, too!”

“How soon do you think you can manage that?”

She shrugged. “A week?”

I blinked, jaw hanging a little.

“Not gonna buy that? I’ve got no idea, Boss. But I’ll work somethin’ out, and I’m gonna make damn sure all my agents have a safe bed and good fightin’ skills.”

“...Should I put you in contact with the Gelles Company?”

“Hmmm. Again, like in Lockmoth? Not sure. Maybe? If ya do, it’s gotta be quiet. Somethin’ where they turn a blind eye sorta deal.”

I flopped onto the floor to look at the ceiling. “I’ve got no idea how to set this up, Taava. No idea how to keep you safe. You’re a known associate, and that’ll land you in big trouble.”

“Maybe, but the Church is gonna be in chaos for a bit, you’ve hung the Edathan nobility out ta dry—and most of ‘em are damn blind anyway. Plus Envy’d struggle ta find me.”

“Envy’s infiltrated the royal guard, Taava.”

“Oh. Well that sucks for them, but I’m aimin’ for beggars and thieves, Renna.”

“People who can succumb to Envy’s whispers more easily?” I raised my head. “Why?”

“Because not all of us are like that!” She puffed out her chest. “Some of us do the wrong things for the right reasons, and I gotta find those folks. I know both sides a thievin’, I can judge folks.”

“Well my presence wouldn’t help.”

“Oh, it’ll help!” She slid off the bed and laid down next to me. “They just gotta know there’s someone big and scary behind the scenes. They don’t gotta know how big and how scary.”

I turned my head to look at her and was met with a smug smile. “Why do I get the feeling you called out ‘big’ separately from ‘scary.’ I’ll have you know I can be plenty scary.”

She made a so-so gesture. “You’re not a killer, not like some folks, even if you’ve got more bodies than the worst mortal serial murderers.”

“Gee, thanks.” My heart sank.

“Ya get my point?”

I boxed Taava’s ears and she hissed. “Fine, maybe I was wrong!”

“No, you weren’t.” I smiled, with teeth. “Thank you.”

“Woah, hey no gettin’ sappy right now!” She jumped to her feet and whirled around to point a finger at her chest. “I’m the big scary Taava, bard extraordinaire, and I’m gonna run the best information network a gold-hearted thieves this side of Raavia.”

“I believe in you.” I stood up.

“Hey now, what’s with that look? I’m not your daughter!”

I pulled her into a hug. “Nope. More like a sister.”

She stiffened, then melted. “Yeah. Yeah I can take that. So, uh, you think ya got time ta fly me ta Linthel? Maybe set me up in an inn for a bit, let your smith friend and former guildies know?”

“They’re your former guildies, too.”

“Yeah, technically. Just, uh, get me pretty close but don’t let us get seen. It’d ruin everythin’.”

“I understand.”

“Ya can let go now.”

“Nope. Let me have this.”

Taava’s hiss turned into a purr and she didn’t start struggling to get out for perhaps thirty whole seconds. Of course, I let her out immediately, and she had the decency to look a little bit regretful.

***

From a distance, nothing in Linthel looked amiss. I kept low, then ducked into the trees near the end, eventually dropping Taava off near the old fort where this all started.

She landed nimbly from my arms and looked around. “Hmm. Ya know, this could be a good hideout if it wasn’t so blindingly obvious.”

“Really?” I looked at the crumbling ruin, sagging as if the weight of snow and ice could crush its old stone.

“Nah. Maybe in a story or somethin’. Too big, too drafty, too many unknowns. Anyway, I should be off.”

“How will we contact each other?” I asked before she could leave, suddenly wishing I’d asked earlier.

“I was gonna figure out how ta send a runner and give ya a dead drop location for you ta send your own runner. But ya know, this place gives me an idea. How’s about like what your sister did? Somethin’ a little further from the ruin.”

“We should pick a tree so we both know it.”

She nodded. “And have a backup.”

It didn’t take long to find a suitable tree. Not too far from the fort, isolated and distinct, growing out of the stump of another long-dead tree. We cleared out a nook in the roots.

“If some animal gets it, that’ll be a problem, but there’s enough spots here ta fit somethin’ somewhere else,” Taava said as we got close to the old fort again. “Oh, and when ya get that cottage built, I’ll wanna visit. And don’t ya dare leave me outta whenever you do a proper weddin’.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied sincerely. “Can I write letters to you if I stick them in the tree?”

“Sure, but ya gotta be discreet in case they’re intercepted. Sey can help ya with that.”

I nodded.

“Welp. Looks like I’m off.” She took two steps, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “My first report’s gonna be about what’s goin’ on with the King and his cronies. I’ll try ta get word ta the Duchess of Gedon, too. But this isn’t goodbye, ya know. When you’ve put Envy down, I wanna visit Raavia again, and I’ll need someone ta go with.”

“It’s a promise.”

She waved. “I don’t do promises like that. If it can happen, it can happen. If it can’t, well then we had a good run. Cheers, Renna.” She flicked a thumbs-up and headed down toward the fort, humming a tune I’d heard her hum on many long days on the road.

On the way back, I flew high over the pass. No army was coming, and no travelers were either. Just inside my demesne, in a particularly narrow valley, I couldn’t help but notice a lattice wall of ice bridging cliff to cliff.

It wasn’t difficult to presume the thing to be my sister’s handiwork.

“Tania!” I shouted as I flew down.

Sure enough I spotted her turning to look up at me not a moment later. Around her were Astryans I didn’t recognize as well as Gareth. Some flinched when I landed, some didn’t. My sister of course was one of those who stood fast and calm.

She reached to shake my hand and I pulled her into a hug instead. “What kind of sisters shake hands?”

“Sisters who wish to remain professional in public,” she replied after shifting for breathing room out of my chest. “You do this on purpose, don’t you?” She glared at my head-height boobs.

“Absolutely!” I shot back. “Hug pillows!”

“Renna!”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m no marchioness anymore.”

“Yes, and you agreed to act the part of a Sovereign Demon instead.”

I shrugged. “You’ve met Lillith.”

“No, I haven’t actually.”

I blinked. “Oh, right. Well she’s not exactly… professional. At least not to me. Well, she was, but she was also very human, er, demon.”

“Are you purposefully trying to act this way?”

“Nope, just happens.” 

She dodged another hug, and glanced back at the others. Gareth was looking away while stifling a laugh and the crew framing supports wasn’t doing a great job of pretending to work.

“Fine.” She sighed. “What’s got you in a good mood then?”

“Am I?” I looked down at myself. Same old, same old. Same incredible body. 

I thought through the fight, the aftermath, the fiery glint in Taava’s eyes with her new assignment. The exasperated excitement of Brynna and Brazz, and Shyll’s happiness to go home. A new ally and a potential second if the demon who was formerly Sylvia came around.

About how we’d be getting that cottage, even if only for a moment. Probably. And of course how Sey’s last bit of revenge finally felt complete. The Church might send an army, but they might give up for now. All focus was on Envy and Avarice, and we were just waiting on leads.

“Yeah,” I answered brightly, surprising myself. “Yeah I guess I am.”

“Great.” Tania turned to look at her construction, and then back to me. “And I do mean that, Sister. But we’re busy here, so unless you’d want to help, I’d appreciate if you stopped distracting everyone.”

“I can help! Is there any sort of heavy lifting to do?”

Kartania’s eyebrow twitched, and Gareth stepped in. “There are some boulders that need to be moved. And you could scout the nearby terrain and figure out if we’ve missed an easy route for an army to get through.”

“Got it!”

Gareth pointed and I started moving.

***

Kartania watched her sister moving boulders at Gareth’s guidance as the rest of the crew finally got back to work. This location was close to perfect, although in these mountains that wasn’t terribly special.

A narrow valley cut between two steep, snowy mountains, with miles of vision for the defenders. It would make for an excellent fortification, and potentially the only one they’d need for mortal forces.

Just inside, in the copse of snow-draped trees where their materials were being stored, she could envision a guardhouse and an inn springing up.

For now, however, she focused on continuing to build the wall’s frame out of ice. As each beam—or boulder—moved into place, she’d shatter the section, replacing ice with rock and stone.

She wished she could share in her sister’s good mood, but an awful feeling wouldn’t stop twisting in her gut. There were good people in the Church, Gareth and Sonia were proof of that. They weren’t even particularly rare.

It made sense not to keep hitting her head into the wall, but that didn’t stop her from worrying. It couldn’t ever really stop that awful feeling in the back of her mind that she could have done more, that there would have been some combination of words that would make them see from her perspective. Even just enough to have an open mind.

She worried that not even death would be enough to shake the bonds of zealotry.

But as Kartania watched her sister working with a former paladin of Dhias like a day laborer, moving person-sized rocks around like they were stage props, she felt just a little bit brighter. There was good in this twisted world, even if it came from these odd, small moments. Little valleys of happiness between peaks of despair.

She winced at her own awful analogy and focused back on her work. Perhaps the thin mountain air was making her melodramatic.