“I have to go,” Maya whispered. She squeezed Jaedia’s limp hand. “Please just… wake up, if you can.” She swallowed. “I miss you.”
Just give me that, Maya thought. Not a prayer, precisely—the common people might beg for favors from the absent Chosen like the imaginary gods of old, but the Twilight Order knew there was no one left to ask. Even so. I found her. I saved her. Please just let her wake up.
Slowly, Maya got to her feet. Quickheal had closed the wound in her abdomen, but it still ached, and the too-tight skin pulled awkwardly. At least she was back in her uniform, with her haken on her hip.
All right, Maya. Enough. She pulled herself up and shook her head. No more wallowing. There’s work to do.
Beq was waiting for her outside the hospital, perched on a stool, her nose buried in a thick, leather-bound book. Maya stood next to her and coughed politely.
“Mmm?” Beq said.
“Should I come back at a better time?” Maya said.
“What?” Beq looked up, eyes going wide, then shot to her feet. “Maya! No, of course not—I mean, I was waiting for you, so—”
Maya couldn’t help but grin. “Beq. Beq!”
“Yes!” Beq squeaked, and took a breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Maya said. She leaned forward and kissed her, briefly but firmly.
Beq—Arcanist Bequaria, in full—was dark-skinned enough that she didn’t show a blush easily, but her forehead creased adorably when she was embarrassed. She had a dusting of dark freckles and long, braided hair the color of leaves in high summer. Her eyes were a deep blue, oddly distorted behind the pair of elaborate arcana spectacles she always wore.
“I just don’t get the chance to read much,” Beq said. “They won’t let us take books from the library into the field, and while I’m here there’s always work to be done. And this is a treatise by Arcanist Rafini Screwloose, and I think this may be the only unexpurgated copy—”
“I’m sure it’s fascinating,” Maya said. “How are you feeling?”
“Me? I’m fine.” Beq stamped her foot to demonstrate. “Nothing serious.”
“The doctor said I should be okay,” Maya said. “Just some aches and pains, but that’ll pass.”
“Good,” Beq said. “That’s good. I was… worried.” She hesitated. “What about Jaedia?”
“The same,” Maya said, swallowing a lump in her throat. “She seems all right, but she hasn’t woken up. The doctors here will take care of her.”
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Beq said quietly. “The Council can’t make you.”
“I know.” Maya kissed Beq again. “But Basel needs my help. He wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“Probably not.” Beq sighed. “If you’re going out again, though…”
“Don’t worry,” Maya said. “If he’s sending me somewhere, you’re coming with me.”
“Good.” Beq’s forehead creased further, and she looked down, fiddling with the dials that controlled her glasses. “That’s good.”
“You said that already.”
“Yeah.”
There was a long pause.
“I’d better go up,” Maya said. “I’ll see you afterward?”
Beq nodded and grinned.
Of all the things that had come out of the events of the last few months, Maya reflected as she climbed the endless circular stair at the heart of the Forge, her relationship with Beq was the most unexpected but perhaps the most welcome. It felt tentative, experimental—Maya had never so much as kissed anyone before—but at the same time she felt like she could no longer imagine her life without it. And Beq, thank the Chosen, seemed to feel the same way. They hadn’t talked about it much, but they both seemed to want more than some sweaty, inexperienced fumbling in a camp tent.
Though I certainly want that also. Maya, having been stuck in the hospital since their return, had to admit to feeling a certain amount of… impatience in that regard. Maybe once I’m done with Basel…
She shook her head again, trying to clear it of pleasant distractions, as she climbed one last ring of stairs to the Forge’s highest level, where the Kyriliarchs had their offices.
Baselanthus’ office was familiar territory. It was small, by Forge standards, and crammed full of broken arcana. A few chairs sat in front of an unmetal desk cluttered with papers.
Maya thought the Kyriliarch himself looked older than he had the last time she’d been here. In spite of his sagging jowls and flyaway gray beard, he’d always seemed energetic and vital. Now he looked tired, his crimson eyes deep-sunk in their sockets. He sat back in his chair as Maya came in.
“Kyriliarch,” Maya said, coming respectfully to attention.
“Please,” Basel said. “No need for that. How do you feel?”
“Better,” Maya said. “The doctors say there’ve been no difficulties. I need to work on regaining some flexibility, but otherwise I’m fit for action.”
“I’m very relieved to hear it,” Basel said. “And Jaedia? No change?”
“No,” Maya said softly.
“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to visit her,” Basel said. “She was always chiding me about getting too caught up in”—he gestured grimly to the papers on his desk—“all this. But needs must, you know.”
“You can see her once she wakes up,” Maya said.
“No doubt.” Basel smiled gently. “As you may have guessed, I have a request for you.”
“Of course,” Maya said.
“You’d better sit.”
Maya took one of the chairs. Basel shuffled his papers for a moment, then sighed.
“I read your report with interest,” he said. “As did the rest of the Council, naturally. Everyone agrees that you and Tanax acquitted yourself well in extremely difficult circumstances.”
“Thank you,” Maya said.
“A few of the details were… unclear. You convinced this rebel, Gyre Silvereye, to sabotage the weapon he’d come to steal?”
Maya swallowed. The fact that Gyre was her brother was the one thing she’d left out.
“I don’t believe his intentions were bad,” she said. “I think he was… misled. I made things clear to him.”
“And he obviously succeeded, since no monstrosities from the Plague War have emerged from the mountains,” Basel said. “But it leaves us with a great many unanswered questions.”
“I have quite a few of those myself,” Maya said. “Most of all regarding the plaguespawn that controlled Jaedia. And what Nicomidi thought he was doing there. He told me the Chosen spoke to him, and that they would return.”
“Mmm.” Basel leaned back in his chair. “The man may simply have gone mad, for all we know. That’s usually the answer when someone claims the Chosen are speaking to them. But I agree it merits investigation. And the plaguespawn… well, rest assured that is the Council’s highest priority. But we have few leads.”
“There’s really nothing in the records?” Maya said. “No one has encountered such a thing before?”