Priscilla Voleton tried to keep her frustrations to herself as the march of useless pleasantries dragged on. Even though Lady Elesmara led all of the meetings, Priscilla still had to keep decorum. Worse, Lady Elesmara seemed insistent on introducing her to everyone at the gathering, which meant that she had to put on a pleasant face and feign interest.

  Already the conference had been going on for hours, and voidspawn had only been mentioned in passing. The entire purpose of this gathering seemed to be set aside as if it were trivial compared to a hundred people making introductions that no one would remember in a few days.

  Priscilla glanced to the corner where Teja - no, Deva was the name they’d decided on - was lurking. Not for the first time, she envied the felin’s vis. Not only were vis free from the agonizing chains of decorum that entrapped everyone else, but Deva’s particular vis of shadows made it even easier to slip away unnoticed. And to deepen the wound, Deva was blessed with the void. Only the fourth of Lady Elesmara’s experiments to achieve that lofty status, and she hadn’t even had the decency to do it in their lab, instead receiving the gift off the frozen wastelands under Sunshine’s supervision.

  Priscilla couldn’t hide in the shadows, nor retreat to the guesthouse. She had to be at Lady Elesmara’s side the entire time.

  Until dinner came and Lady Elesmara was moved to sit right by the governors while Priscilla was seated right in the thick of strangers. All of whom Priscilla had already met and now had to pretend to remember their names and positions.

  “Pardon,” the small woman at her side was the first to address her, “you are Elesmara Genthus’ assistant, correct?”

  Since the floor did not seem willing to grant her escape by spontaneously swallowing her, Priscilla forced herself to paint on a smile and nod, “Correct. I’m Priscilla Voleton, honored assistant to Lady Elesmara. And you are...”

  “Executor Aelia Etrani of Hellfrost,” the woman replied.

  Priscilla flushed and mentally kicked herself, because Executor Etrani was among the most important people to remember at this gathering.

  “I recognize your name as co-author of the report on voidspawn activity,” Executor Etrani noted. “Might I ask which portions of it you contributed?”

  Priscilla almost let out an audible gasp, because this was the first time anyone in all the Empire had actually vocally acknowledged her part in the most important research of this century.

  “I was responsible for curating the gathered reports on voidspawn emergence and extrapolating future trends,” she replied, not bothering for once to keep the pride out of her voice. False humility, as Lady Elesmara pointed out, was as foolish as unwarranted arrogance.

  “Excellent, I had a number of questions about your work,” the executor produced a notebook from...somewhere in the layers of cloaks.

  Having a book at such a dinner was not precisely in line with formal etiquette, and the maneuver earned Executor Etrani odd looks from a number of others around them. Which the executor either ignored or did not notice.

  “You include in the report a term of ‘intensity’ of these voidspawn incursions. I note that in the 25 events recorded, the intensity at first lessened but in recent years has grown. Last year’s event was, across the empire, the second highest intensity on record, with the highest intensity event being the very first recorded. You project that the incursion a year from now will exceed any on record intensity. If the events are cyclical in nature, is it not possible that last year’s represents the peak of the cycle, and that intensity will decline again in the future?”

  Tears came into Priscilla’s eyes. Dear gods. Someone had not only read the report, they’d read the appendix. Numbers that Priscilla had slaved away for more than a year gathering and interpreting, only for Lady Elesmara to publish as a single paragraph of conclusions in the proper report. Because numbers didn’t matter nearly as much as feelings to most people.

  “That is...such a good question,” Priscilla choked out. “May I...?”

  At Etrani’s nod, Priscilla took the notebook. As well as a quill and bottle of ink that Etrani produced from some other hidden compartment in her petticoats.

  “The surges in voidspawn activity,” Priscilla marked down the dates from memory, because she’d spent more time with those numbers than some mothers did with their children, “not only follow a cycle of intensity but also frequency. The dates of the first and second events we have recorded were 18 months apart. The trough of intensity corresponds with a full 5 year gap between the 14th and 15th events. With the recent events growing closer together again, we formed the projections...”

  She marked out each of the corresponding pairs of dates and intensities as two-dimensional coordinates, demonstrating the projected curve as she thrust the notebook back into Etrani’s hands.

  Etrani stared at the drawn graph. “I’ve...never seen this method before. It is a remarkable way to visualize this sort of information.”

  Oh, right. Septentrion was quite far from the academies in Veriditar. And this method did not even originate in the empire, instead coming from visiting southern scholars.

  “Why choose 360 as the starting year for the analysis?” Etrani asked, eyes still locked on the simple graph. “Surely there were voidspawn attacks before then.”

  “Yes, but none we have sufficient reports for,” Priscilla sighed, that fact an old ghost that kept haunting them. Without that history, they had no idea what the peak of the cycle might look like, nor how close the waves would be at the peak. “By virtue of the wars.”

  Many lamented the Succession Wars for the immense waste of life, destruction of imperial tradition, and loss of land that took over 50 years to restore. To such valid lamentations, Priscilla added her own personal mourning for the loss of the exact historical records that would have made their conclusions so much stronger.

  “Have you consulted tribes who were not part of the empire during that time?” Etrani asked.

  “I...was not aware there were any who kept records,” Priscilla replied.

  “Not written,” Etrani conceded, “but their oral histories are surprisingly extensive.”

  Veriditar scholarship would not accept oral histories. But they could be a valuable piece in filling in the gaps in the written record. Priscilla wasn’t writing to gain prestige as a scholar. This was about more than that. This was survival; any scrap of information would be invaluable.

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  “I can arrange a time for you to meet with the Mindspeaker of the Kvormskaja,” Etrani said.

  “I’d like that very much.” The possibilities were already exploding in Priscilla’s mind. A chance to learn secrets absent from imperial records, burned away in stupid ambition but preserved in minds beyond the Empire’s touch. “I...” she glanced down at her shaking hands, willing them to still. And noticing that she had ink on them. And on the frustratingly voluminous sleeves that accompanied this dress. “Oh, gods damn me...” If only she were back in the study in Thallakar she could have easily cleaned it. But no, she was hundreds of miles away.

  Executor Etrani conjured yet more from her clothes, this time producing a small vial filled with a white powder.

  “Is that...natron?” Priscilla asked in surprise. The cleaning material was common in the southern provinces near the Aivan Desert, but she’d never dreamed of seeing it this far north.

  “I’ve found it most useful for cleaning ink-stains,” Etrani replied.

  Priscilla felt a lump rise in her throat. All this time, she’d assumed everyone at this meeting would be a scheming politician or the sort of social parasite she was used to in Thallakar (and all of Veriditar province, for that matter). There was at least one person here who was a kindred spirit.

  “Is there anything else not mentioned in the report that your research has found?” Executor Etrani asked.

  “I could talk for hours about my research,” Priscilla warned.

  Etrani glanced to her right, where members of the Frelund delegation were guffawing over some inane joke in far too loud voices, “If you run out of things to say, we may be forced to engage in actual socialization. Tell me everything.”

  Priscilla smiled, and she did tell her everything.

  * * *

  One day complete, and Aelia was still standing. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but standing. Back at the guesthouse with Esharah at her side and Aven returned. Though Aven was now accompanied by Vestra, who seemed to take her new mission as Aven’s watchguard distressingly seriously. Aelia was quite certain that watching over Aven did not necessitate having one of her bone wings draped over his shoulder at all times, but pointing that out only made Vestra laugh.

  The meeting with Priscilla Voleton had been enormously productive. Now Aelia had to make sure it would bear fruit over the next few days.

  “Now that we have completed the first day,” Aelia addressed her assembled group, “we can set our goals for the remainder of the meetings.”

  Officially, the gathering would last four more days, concluding at the end of the week. Unofficially, negotiations would likely continue for months, with some of the delegates from other provinces remaining in Northstar. The point of the conference was not to solve every problem in a single week, but to reach a broad consensus that voidspawn were an imminent threat worthy of a coordinated response.

  “Tomorrow’s meetings will be dedicated to establishing the extent of the voidspawn threat,” Aelia said. “To that end, Governor Iraias will call Aven and Mensikhana for testimony. I will give what information I can using Hellfrost’s records.” Though, unfortunately, not all prior executors had kept records as scrupulously as she would have liked. “Would anyone else like to speak on that matter?”

  Long silence greeted her words.

  Broken, unexpectedly, by the maledictus Katrin, “I would like to speak.” She looked to Esharah, “You...can share one person’s memories with others, yes?” At Esharah’s confirmation, the maledictus continued, “I believe these memories will make the threat clear.”

  Esharah locked eyes with Katrin, and for a moment, both fell into silence. Sharing whatever memories Katrin had for testimony.

  Esharah broke the locked gaze with a shocked gasp and a wave of psychic distress that rippled through all of them before she regained control of herself, “Oh, Katrin...”

  “We have borne these memories our whole lives.” Katrin petted the cooing form of her spirit companion and visibly shuddered. “I hope...they can be of use for more than my own nightmares.” She looked back to Aelia. “I will testify.”

  Esharah’s mind connected to Aelia’s, “These...these memories will help.”

  “Should I review them?” Aelia asked.

  “They are...not for the faint of heart,” Esharah replied. “You already understand what needs to be done. These memories should be reserved for shocking the complacent into action.”

  The controlling part of her went practically apoplectic at even the thought of something she had not reviewed being used for testimony. The human part of her chose to trust Esharah.

  The next days would focus on the details of the coordinated response. Sergeant Ouron would speak on tactics with other military personnel. And Janaya would be part of a presentation on voidglass. Aelia could only hope the promise Esharah had coaxed out of her to remain calm and nonviolent would hold.

  “Governor Iraias has also mentioned another event which those who fought Sergrud are required to attend,” Aelia said, annoyance rising up. Which was an improper emotion to feel towards the Governor’s actions, so she repressed it. “He...has not informed me what purpose the event has. In fact, he specifically has called it a ‘surprise’.”

  Vestra barked a laugh and responded to Aelia’s questioning glance with an impish grin. The governor was not prone to spectacle. Except when he believed spectacle was necessary to prove a point. Which, an outside observer might note, was quite a bit more often than others might consider necessary.

  Aelia repressed the part of herself that thought such behavior was petty.

  “While not attending required events, I would urge each of you to make the best impression possible as representatives of Hellfrost and Septentrion,” she instructed. “Any connections you can forge with other counties and other provinces could be valuable. Have you anything to add, Tetravis?”

  “Me?” Vestra gave another laugh, “I’m only here to discipline Aven if he gets out of line.” Her wing tugged Aven closer, which Aelia disliked almost as much as Aven seemed to. “Which I’m sure won’t be an issue.” She gave him a pointed stare.

  “Given the circumstances,” Aven’s words were forced but even, “I’ll endeavor to remain disciplined.”

  Aelia repressed the urge to sigh. With that, the meeting adjourned. Everyone else wandered off back to their quarters. Save for Aven and his new shadow.

  “I’m sorry,” Aven said as he embraced her.

  Aelia stiffened. Not that the embrace was unpleasant. But Vestra was watching extremely closely. Aelia tried not to think of the stare as voyeuristic. She forced herself to relax into the hug.

  “I’ve made a horrible mess for you to clean up,” Aven continued as if there wasn’t an unwanted observer present. He always could manage to set external things aside. Until, apparently, he very much could not. But in this moment, he was her Aven again. Not an uncontrollable monster. “And I’ve brought my family’s ghosts into this.”

  “There are...complications,” Aelia managed. “All tasks have complications. We will adapt.”

  Aven kissed her forehead, which was distressing, because it elevated her temperature by several degrees. Then the embrace ended, and Aven walked away. And Vestra tried to follow.

  “I believe your duties are finished for the day,” Aelia said pointedly, stepping in front of her.

  “Governor asked me to watch Aven,” Vestra gave that grin again. Aelia was growing to like her smile less with each repetition. “Didn’t give an exception for night. That’s when the most mischief happens, after all. And he’s quite good at making mischief.”

  “Your duties are finished,” Aelia repeated, forcing an extra edge into her tone. “The governor asked you to keep an eye on Aven at the gathering. The gathering is finished for today, so presence is no longer required or wanted, Vestra vis Nightblood. Leave. Now.”

  Vestra’s smile vanished. Her wings flared out. For a moment, Aelia was genuinely worried she was about to be attacked.

  Then, a different smile crossed her face. Not the arrogant one, so assured of her dominance. A calculating one. The smile of a predator sizing up a rival.

  “They say jealousy is ugly.” Vestra’s wings lowered. “I like the way it looks on you, though. Very fetching.” She turned to leave with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Fine. I’m not his jailor. Just be careful, Aeli.”

  “Please do not call me that,” Aelia voiced another frustration she’d built up for years. “My name is Aelia.”

  “Don’t like the nickname?” Vestra asked. “You never said so before.”

  “I did,” Aelia replied. “The first time you used it. You ignored me. As you will most likely ignore me now, but I’ve decided that I will continue to remind you instead of being silent.”

  To her surprise, Vestra didn’t immediately retort. She gave a nod, a gesture that almost seemed respectful, “I’ll remember, Aelia.” Then, she was gone.

  As was Aven. Hopefully already out of the building because Aven was already up to the mischief they’d already planned. Aelia could only hope this would resolve messes instead of create more.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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