I didn’t trust Malthiss and I wanted this to be true, but I was unwilling to ask my question aloud, for fear of the answer.
Serass, he sent, very firmly. Now that I know what to—he sent something incomprehensible in Shade—for, there is no doubt.
Why do you think Namara gave me Alinthide’s swords?
Do you really have to ask?
No, I guess I don’t. I closed my eyes and sent a silent thanks to a fallen goddess for a grace that I only now recognized—both for the connection to one I had loved and for the rightness of the thing. Ashvik might have killed Alinthide, but in the end it was Alinthide’s sword that killed Ashvik.
“All right,” asked Faran, “but what does that mean for me with Parsi’s swords?”
“I think that we might be able to attune them to you,” said Malthiss. “The six of us working together.”
“Even with the goddess gone?” Faran’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Even so.”
Is that possible? I sent to Triss.
You’ll have to ask Malthiss. I don’t know enough about it yet. There was a long pause, then he added, rather reluctantly, But I can’t imagine that it will be easy, especially given Faran’s . . . loyalties.
What does that mean?
Justice matters here. It has to for anything that addresses the power of the goddess. And justice is not Faran’s first loyalty, nor has it been since at least the fall of the temple.
I couldn’t argue with that. She had to make hard choices. Without that self-reliance and self-centeredness she wouldn’t have survived.
No, she would not. But that, too, has passed.
What do you mean?
These days, her loyalty belongs to you. She is a warrior and you are her captain.
I didn’t know how to answer that, and the conversation was moving on without us, so I remained quiet.
“How soon can we try it?” asked Faran.
“That depends on our route,” replied Malthiss.
Faran frowned. “I think I missed a step in there somewhere.”
“The ritual I envision will have to be performed at a place holy to Namara, probably the grotto on her island in Lake Evinduin. It still may not work, but, from what I know of the swords, that is the only way it could.”
Faran turned to look at me now. “Aral?”
It was almost a thousand miles out of the way if our plan was to go after the Son of Heaven straightaway, which brought up another thing that needed addressing.
“Siri is senior to me.” Both Faran and Kelos had taken to treating our course as though the final authority for choosing it lay with me. “The decision belongs to her.”
Siri shook her head. “I don’t think so. Faran is your apprentice, and dealing with her needs is a choice you have to make.” I opened my mouth to demure, but Siri held up a hand. “But that’s not all. I know that you still think of me as First Blade, Aral, but that’s over. Namara is dead and the temple has fallen.”
I shook my head. “You are still my better in the skills of the Blade and Namara’s final choice to lead the order.”
“That was before this.” She raised her stump and formed a hand of smoke. “The injury isn’t a problem, but the Smoldering Flame is. I owe my allegiance to Namara’s ghost, but my soul is bound to another god now, one who seeks to subvert my will even in his dreams. To be tied to one of the buried gods is to be forever compromised. Without Namara to protect me from his influence I can never fully trust my judgment again, and you shouldn’t either.”
“Siri . . .” I didn’t know what to say. I had felt the hand of the Smoldering Flame close around my heart, and I knew that she was right, but still . . .
“No. I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few weeks, and I have made my choice.” She swallowed hard and raised her chin. “You are all witness to my words, and I call on you to pass them along to any other members of the order as and when you see them. This is my final command, for I am rendered unfit by circumstance and hereby resign my place as First Blade.”
“I . . .” Well, fuck. Now what?
“Further,” Siri continued as though I hadn’t said anything, “I wish to point out that with Namara dead and the temple fallen, there is no structure to replace me in that role and no higher authority in what remains