A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,23
“But I will be. So, Aphra. You said that I have options. The obvious one is to kill Riv, Fia and… this.” Kol gestured with a hand at Avi in his cot.
“Do that and you will have to kill me, also,” Aphra said, and for the first time there was no diplomacy in her voice. Just a fact.
Kol stared at her, his face shifting to something cold and aloof. Calculating.
“I could do that,” Kol said.
“Aye. But you would have to kill my hundred, as well.”
“Yes. A difficult task, and one where I would take losses. But, again, I could do that.”
Aphra nodded. “In doing so you would be killing an ally and losing a hundred swords that would stand beside you in the difficult days ahead.”
Kol dipped his head, an acknowledgement.
“And then there would be the matter of the parchments I have written,” Aphra continued, “that will be sent far and wide, telling of what you have done, including fathering half-breeds.”
Kol’s lips twisted, shifting to fury.
“You would threaten me?”
“As you did me, to join you against Israfil, told me it was in my interest to support you, that I would die if I did not. This is no different.” Aphra’s hands didn’t move, but Riv could see the threat of violence rolling from Aphra in waves.
“I did not threaten you. I told you Israfil would execute you if he found out our secret.”
Aphra snorted. “It was a threat.”
Kol shrugged, dismissing the point. “Where are these parchments?”
“Safe,” Aphra said, “with people I trust. The first place they will reach is Dun Seren. The Order of the Bright Star would find it all most interesting.”
“You would jeopardize the war against the Kadoshim?”
“I would not care. I would be dead, and all that I love would be dead.”
“Humans.” Kol sighed. “Always ruled by your emotions.” He drummed fingers on the table. “And the alternative?”
“Change things.” Aphra shrugged. “A new order, where the boundaries between Ben-Elim and humankind are not so… fixed. That is what you are doing now, anyway. This would just be more obvious.”
“Yes, you have that right,” Kol said, looking at Riv’s wings.
“You have carried out a coup, killed Israfil, taken the lordship of the Ben-Elim for yourself. You are in charge, now.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I can do this. Not all of the Ben-Elim are behind me; my power is not consolidated yet.”
“It will be. You have a thousand Ben-Elim declaring their support for you already. The rest will follow. You said yourself, now that Israfil is dead, more will be happy for your new way to begin. You and your kind will be enjoying the pleasures this world of flesh gives, having relations with humankind, as you have already been doing for a hundred years, but more openly. But there will still be consequences, there will be more bairns born, more than ever before. You cannot keep it all a secret any longer, or do you plan to kill them all?”
“No,” Kol said, “but I was planning on taking the steps on this path slowly, a gentle slope into change, not a cliff-leap to jagged rocks and possible execution.”
“Better to just do it, get it over with and enjoy the fruits of your victory.”
He rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “And there is Elyon’s Lore,” he added.
“Is it really Elyon’s Lore? Or is it the Ben-Elim’s lore, fashioned to create a world that suited the Ben-Elim? To establish the boundaries that you wanted, the obedience you needed to fight the Kadoshim?”
Kol raised an eyebrow. “Good point.” He smiled. “Clever as well as beautiful.”
I cannot believe what I am hearing.
Aphra is proposing Kol change the doctrines that have ruled our lives for a hundred years.
But if they are a lie, made up to keep control, then why not change them? Why follow them at all.
“You change Elyon’s Lore as you are changing everything else,” Aphra said. “You would not need to declare it to the world, just quietly remove those parts from the texts. What is it you have often said to me? People are sheep. So, you lead, and everyone else will follow.”
Kol inhaled, long and slow, then turned his eyes onto Riv.
“And what do you say to all of this, daughter?” he asked her.
Riv wanted to punch him in the face for that, though at the same time she felt some strange reluctance seep through her limbs.
Daughter.
He’s my father.
And I hate him.
“What do you want of me?” Riv said, her gaze flitting from Kol to Aphra.