Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,92

so I can spend the time drinking with you instead.”

Mercurio scoffed, blue eyes wrinkling as he smiled. Mia’s heart warmed to be with him again—though it’d barely been three months since she left Godsgrave, she had to admit she’d missed the cranky old bastard. She set about telling him of the Church in hushed tones. The Mountain. Her run-in with Solis.

“Aye, he’s a bleeding prick,” Mercurio muttered. “Damn fine swordsman, though. Mark his teaching well.”

“Hard for me to learn anything when I can’t attend lessons.” She proffered her arm, her elbow now a lovely shade of yellow and gray. “It’s taking bloody ages to heal.”

“That’s bullshit,” Mercurio spat. “It’s hardly even bruised. You get back in that hall on the morrow.” The old man raised his voice over the beginnings of Mia’s protest. “So Solis gave your arse a kicking. Learn from it. Sometimes weakness is a weapon. If you’re smart enough to use it.”

Mia chewed her lip. Nodded slow. She knew he spoke truth, that she should be learning all from Solis that she could. Now that she was back in Godsgrave, her reason for studying at the Church burned in her mind hotter than ever. Everywhere she looked, she saw reminders. The Ribs where she’d lived as a child. The Luminatii and their bright white armor, reminding her so much of her father.

The bastards who took him from her …

“Any news about Scaeva since I’ve been gone?” she asked.

Mercurio sighed. “Well, he’s standing for a fourth term as sole consul, but that shouldn’t surprise anyone. He’s got half the Senate in his thrall, and the other half are too scared or greedy to raise a ruckus. Looks like the second consul’s chair will remain empty for the foreseeable future.”

Mia shook her head, silently amazed. When the Republic had been founded, when the Itreyans murdered their last king, the system they built in the monarchy’s ruins was meant to make a new monarchy impossible. The Itreyans elected consuls to rule them every truedark, but there were two consul’s chairs in the Senate House, and no consul was permitted to sit two terms in a row. That was the entire point of the Republic. All tenure of power was shared, and all tenure of power was short.

When General Antonius raised his army in rebellion against the Senate, Scaeva had dredged up some anachronistic amendments in the Itreyan constitution that allowed him to sit as sole consul in the Republic’s time of need, but …

“He’s still citing emergency powers?” Mia sighed. “The Kingmaker Rebellion was put down six years ago. The balls on that bastard…”

“Well, he might’ve had a hard time convincing the Senate there was still a crisis, but when an assassin tries to murder the head of the Republic in a cathedral full of witnesses, it gets a touch easier to make the case. The Truedark Massacre showed the Senate just how dangerous this city still is. You’d need a bloody army to get through to Scaeva now. He doesn’t take a piss without a cadre of Luminatii to hold the pot.”

Mia sipped her whiskey. Eyes on the table.

“Cardinal Duomo is still on Scaeva like a babe at his mother’s tit, of course,” Mercurio muttered. “Has his ministers preaching from the pulpits, praising our ‘glorious consul’ and his ‘golden age of peace.’” The old man scoffed. “Golden age of tyranny, more like it. We’re closer to a new arse on the throne than when the Kingmakers raised their army. But the plebs lap it up. Peace means stability. And stability means money. Scaeva’s near untouchable now.”

“Give me time,” Mia said. “I’ll touch him. None too gently, either.”

“O, aye, what could possibly go wrong there?”

“Scaeva needs to die, Mercurio.”

“You just mind your lessons,” Mercurio growled. “You’re a damn sight shy of initiation. The Church is only going to test you harder, and there’s plenty of ways to get buried between here and the finish line. Worry about Scaeva when you’re a Blade, not a moment before. Because it’s only going to be a full-fledged Blade that gets to him now.”

Mia lowered her eyes. Nodded. “I will. I promise.”

Mercurio looked at her, those born-to-scowl eyes softening around the edges.

“How you holding up in there?”

“Well enough.” She shrugged. “Apart from the dismemberment.”

“They’ll ask you to do things, soon. Dark things. To prove your devotion.”

“I’ve blood on my hands already.”

“I’m not talking about killing those who deserve it, little Crow. You ended their executioner, true. But he was the man who hung your