Chapter 9

After the weeks spent in Cosian, Blaine was happy to be in the air. Honovi seemed just as pleased to be back on the Celestial Sprite, feet planted against the sway of the decking as the airship flew through some choppy air. The airspace around the Eastern Spine always had pockets of turbulence, but Honovi was adept at piloting them through it. Blaine checked the engine readouts one last time before joining Honovi. He rested the metal fingertips of his mechanical prosthetic against the edge of the control panel, eyeing the green glow across the board.

"We should arrive in about an hour," Honovi said as he adjusted a lever, voice coming out a little muffled through the air mask secured to his face. They were at a high enough altitude that everyone had been ordered to don one.

"No signs of Daijalan airships?" Blaine asked.

Caoimhe, from her spot at the radio, snorted. "Our hull colors are clearly marked as an E'ridian airship. If they tried to shoot us down, it would certainly be cause for E'ridia to join the war. I'm doubtful Eimarille wants that."

The airship captain, unlike the cinn-chinnidh, understood the threat Daijal presented. She, like most of E'ridia's air force aeronauts, knew they'd be called to the skies eventually. Their defense of Cosian could be seen as an act of self-defense, which was what Blaine knew Honovi would argue if they were brought before the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean.

"It would certainly tip things in Ashion's favor," Blaine said.

He wanted Ashion to survive, wanted Caris to take the starfire throne, but neither did he wish to see E'ridia dragged into a war that would surely leave broken clans behind. Blaine knew, with a foreboding sense of certainty, that his homeland might not have a choice in setting their much-vaunted neutrality aside to join the fight. He already had, to an extent, and Honovi refused to let him go it alone.

Honovi pushed away from the control panel, eyes hidden behind brass goggles. "Let's see how Caris and the others are faring. Caoimhe, I'll leave you the controls."

She saluted him and took his spot while Blaine followed Honovi onto the decking. Howling wind whipped around them, stealing through the collar of Blaine's flight jacket to chill his skin for a few seconds before he tugged the zipper up higher. The fur lining kept him warm as he reached for a safety line hooked to the wall just outside the door, clipping it to his belt.

The sound of the engines was louder outside, the shadow cast from the air balloon falling more to the port side as they flew south, with the sun burning its way to the western horizon. The brass goggles Blaine wore didn't block out the sun, but they did keep the wind from stinging his eyes. He and Honovi maneuvered toward the crew cabin and the entrance there that led below decks.

The Celestial Sprite wasn't built with comfort in mind, being a war airship and all, but there were a few extra cabins for when passengers came on board. Blaine and Honovi's was in the officer's quarters, despite them being civilians, while the Ashionens had been assigned a tiny cabin and were ordered to remain there for the duration of the flight for their safety. They'd reach their destination before sunset, but no one was taking clear skies for granted in a country at war.

Honovi unclipped his safety line and attached it to the hooks on the side of the crew cabin before entering it. Blaine followed after his husband, the crew cabin slightly warmer than the cold temperatures outside. The cold tended to chill his mechanical prosthesis, making the limb ache at the end of the stump. His flight jackets now had extra insulation on that arm, but the cold would never keep him from performing his duties.

They made their way belowdecks, coming upon the door to the cabin Caris and the other two were at. The Royal Guard had their own bunk across the way, their door open to keep an eye on the hallway. Maurus gave them a polite nod before returning his attention back to the card game his fellow soldiers were playing to pass the time. Blaine knocked on Caris' door, calling out in Ashionen, "It's us."

The lock clicked, and the narrow door swung open. Caris offered him a tired smile. "Not much room, but we'll squish on the bunk and leave you the floor."

Nathaniel and Lore were seated on the bunk bolted to the wall. Like Caris, Lore was dressed in trousers and boots, the fur-lined coat she wore falling to her knees. Her face was bare of the veil she typically wore when traveling, but Blaine had no doubt it was secreted away on her person.

"Just an update to say we'll be landing in an hour or so. You won't have to be down here for too much longer," Honovi said.

"It's fine. I'm just planning what I want to say to Alasandair."

Blaine couldn't stop the way he instinctively looked at Nathaniel. "You shouldn't?—"

"Nathaniel already knows. It won't be a secret if what I have planned comes to fruition," Caris said calmly.

Honovi pressed his hand to the small of Blaine's back, urging him inside. Blaine went where directed, knowing this was a conversation they shouldn't have in public. He knew Nathaniel had been added to the passenger manifest because Ksenia, the wardens' master alchemist, wanted to check up on him. He hadn't known Caris had revealed secret information to the other man. "You only mentioned that you wanted to speak to Soren. What is it, exactly, you're planning, and does Meleri know?"

Caris raised her chin. "The duchess knows, but I didn't seek out her permission. Eimarille and I are not the only Rourkes. If something were to happen to me, Ashion needs someone else to rally behind. Alasandair could be that person."

"He doesn't go by Alasandair," Blaine said slowly.

Soren had been insistent that he wasn't the long-thought-dead Ashion prince they seemed to think he was. He'd adamantly denied being a Rourke, despite the clear resemblance he had to Caris. Blaine had been driven near speechless the first time he'd laid eyes on Soren in that meeting room in Glencoe last year. He'd known of Eimarille and Caris surviving the Inferno, had kept Caris' life a secret while he'd lived his own until his road made its way back to hers. Alasandair—Soren—had never factored into the fight for the starfire throne and the right to rule Ashion.

He knew Queen Ophelia had three children, but Alasandair's death during the Inferno had been a fact for so long Blaine hadn't wanted to believe what his eyes were telling him. None of them knew anything about Soren except that he was a warden, made through alchemy to be able to survive the poison fields and handle revenants. Wardens were barred from interfering with a country's politics outside delivering border reports.

Caris had grown up a noble, learning her bloodline's business before going to university to become an engineer and how to be a cog and rule under Meleri's guidance. She was still learning the dance of politics but was a far cry better at it now than she'd been even last summer. Blaine couldn't say the same for Soren, if the warden would even believe the truth Caris spoke.

An hour or so later saw them anchored at the Warden's Island and trekking through the fort's heavily guarded gate. Construction was ongoing, but the scars from the attack last summer still dotted the interior. Empty spaces where buildings once stood interrupted the skyline, and rubble, while piled in designated areas, had yet to be removed. More disheartening than the structures was the small number of wardens and tithes they passed.

While Blaine knew that many of the wardens had survived the attack by virtue of being in the poison fields and guarding borders, they'd lost so many tithes that it would set back Maricol's safety by at least a generation.

He couldn't help the way he reached for his left elbow and the metal joint of the mechanical prosthetic. He curled his fingers around the shape of it beneath the sleeve of his flight jacket, a sense of disquiet settling over him as they walked. He hadn't been back to the Warden's Island since his capture, and he thought it wouldn't bother him. Judging by the knots in his stomach, he'd been wrong.

Honovi caught his eye as they walked behind the others and the warden who was their guide. He draped his arm around Blaine's shoulders, pulling him close. "All right?"

He spoke in E'ridian, and Blaine was grateful to hide behind their language. "I will be. It's jarring to be back."

Honovi squeezed his shoulder, and Blaine leaned into the comfort his husband provided. "I won't leave your side this time."

Blaine reached up and touched the chain that held the clarion crystal shard hanging from his throat beneath his marriage torc. Honovi's promise was one Blaine would never take for granted. They'd been separated enough the past few years; he rather hoped their roads would not break apart anytime soon.

The administration building the warden led them to was smaller than the old one he remembered, but that one had been bombed during the attack. Still, it was just as busy inside as he remembered, with wardens surrounded by folios as they worked through border reports. No one looked up at their arrival, busy with their tasks and diligent in completing them. Delani's office was smaller and more cramped than her old one, but she remained a force to be reckoned with, her one good eye studying them as they entered.

"One hopes your time here won't be as exciting as your last visit," Delani said by way of greeting.

Blaine winced, and Honovi's arm tightened briefly around his shoulders before falling away. "We won't be staying very long."

"We'll be staying as long as it takes to convince one of yours to aid us," Caris said evenly. Blaine bit back a sigh at that declaration. Caris' itinerary was known by less than a dozen people, but her absence would be felt after more than a couple of days. Blaine hoped this trip would wrap up quickly, but that depended on how the wardens handled the request.

Delani's gaze slid to Caris, attention sharp in the way of a hunter. "We wardens have never shirked our duties."

"It's not your duty I'm talking about but mine and my desire to share it."

Delani leaned back in her chair, the wood creaking with the motion. "Ah. You're here for Soren. I thought you'd come to ask for more wardens to handle the dead in your eastern province."

"I'm here for Alasandair, yes."

"I have no warden by that name."

Caris frowned but wasn't deterred. "You know him as Soren, then. No matter what name he goes by, I am here for my brother."

"I know who you are here for, but he has stated to me he is not who you believe him to be. As our records were destroyed in the attack, I am unable to verify which country sent him as a tithe. You say he is a Rourke, but Soren insists he is a warden, and you have no witness to prove your declaration unless Blaine speaks for him as well as you."

Delani's formidable attention landed on him, and Blaine stepped forward. "I do not, but surely any warden who could cast starfire would be repudiated based on the Poison Accords."

"Soren claims to not have that power."

"And do you believe him?"

Delani's silence was a clear enough answer, though Blaine didn't press her to speak it. He knew what it would mean if it became known that the wardens had allowed someone who could cast starfire into their ranks. Whatever wardens' governor had signed off on such acceptance would have ruined their vaunted neutrality, and it was that which kept the tithes flowing.

"I believe we're all at a crossroads," Delani finally said as she stood. "But my duty is to the borders of Maricol, not your attempts to secure power. Your birthright doesn't interest me. It is the fallout of this war that does."

"If Soren could help us end this war, wouldn't you want that?" Caris asked.

"It's not about what I want. It's about what everyone else will think of you and him and this history spun from the aether you wish to make a truth. It complicates everything, and my focus must be on the borders, not your crown."

"Will you let Caris speak to him?" Blaine asked.

Delani gestured at the door. "Soren's shift at the telegraph machines ends around sunset. I'll send a runner to let him know you are here, but I won't pull him from his duties. You can wait to have your conversation until tonight. Someone will show you to your rooms."

It was a clear dismissal, one that saw Nathaniel escorting a frustrated Caris out of the office. Lore followed after them, and Blaine would have gone with them if Delani hadn't said, "I'd ask you to stay a moment, Blaine."

Honovi pointedly closed the door and put his back to it, crossing his arms over his chest in a clear indication of his refusal to leave. If Delani had an issue with his presence, she didn't show it. She stepped around her desk and approached the small wet bar tucked between a bookcase and filing cabinet. She pulled the stopper out of a decanter and poured herself a small glass that smelled like ika, Urova's favored drink.

"How is your arm?" Delani asked.

Blaine clenched his metal fingers into a fist, the click of gears loud in the room. "I made a new one."

Delani tossed back the ika in a quick swallow. "I apologized to your husband last year for the betrayal of one of mine against you. I'll say it again to you. I am sorry for the harm come to you at the hands of a warden."

Raziel hadn't survived her betrayal. Honovi had told him months after his return to Glencoe, when he could bear to think about what had happened on the Warden's Island, that her mind had been stripped of memories by the wardens before she boarded an airship back to E'ridia. She'd been tried and found guilty based on Honovi's testimony and Blaine's medical records. The E'ridian court had made it clear Raziel had acted on her own, that the wardens hadn't condoned her betrayal and knew nothing of it.

Blaine would be lying if he said he didn't have reservations about being alone with a warden these days.

"Just because wardens wear the same field uniform doesn't mean your people share the guilt of a traitor. Raziel made her choice. I'm just lucky I survived it and only lost part of my arm," Blaine said.

"Still, it reflects badly on us wardens, especially because of the origins of rionetkas."

"That isn't common knowledge."

"For now. But secrets aren't staying kept these days, and I'm doubtful we'll escape the blame there for long."

It didn't help they no longer had any records to prove they'd thought the warden in question had died in the poison fields of Daijal. Neither did they have records of the tithes who'd come to them for centuries or the border history of the poison fields. So much knowledge had been lost last summer, harming everyone.

Delani stepped in front of her desk and leaned against it, arms crossed over her chest. She studied him for a moment before speaking. "I know you can stand witness for Caris. If it came down to it, could you do the same for Soren?"

Blaine shook his head. "I carried her out of Amari during the Inferno, and my memories speak to that. I never knew where the prince went. A magician skilled in mind magic could easily find if that were a lie."

There were those in Ashion who refused to believe he was a Westergard, even with his ring. His name had been struck from the nobility genealogies, after all, and he'd not tried to undo it. So far, the people who mattered believed him, but Blaine was aware of how quickly that could change.

"Then that complicates things."

"There aren't any records to suggest one way or the other what Soren is, save the alchemy that lets wardens survive poison that would otherwise kill anyone else. Soren is what you made him to be, and there's no changing that, even if he changes his name," Honovi said.

Delani's bland expression never faltered. In another life, she would have made a formidable political opponent. "And wardens aren't meant to be of royal blood. We have kept to the parameters of the Poison Accords through the Ages. I won't see it break on my watch."

"We're in the Age of Progress. Perhaps it is time for change," Blaine said slowly.

"No." Delani's tone was all steel, refusing to budge. "I will not alter what was agreed to for the sake of saving a government that may crumble before the year is up."

"And if Eimarille takes the entire continent? What then? She's already proven she doesn't care for the duties you wardens uphold. Your livelihood is at stake as much as ours, especially after you pulled wardens out of Daijal."

Delani grimaced. "I'm not willing for countries to think they can control wardens by threatening to murder us all."

"What position do you think you wardens would be in if Eimarille is the only one ruling at the end of this fight?" Honovi asked.

"It would be better if you could control the narrative," Blaine added.

"Nothing good comes of lies, and that is what I would have to work with." Delani shook her head and pushed away from the desk. "I'll speak with Soren after he talks to your queen."

Blaine inclined his head and was escorted out of the office by Honovi. Neither of them spoke until they were outside the building, finding Caris, Nathaniel, and Lore chatting with a familiar warden. Caris gave them a curious look but didn't ask any questions on why they were delayed. Yufei, on the other hand, offered his hand in greeting.

"Glad to see you are well," the warden said, nodding at Blaine's left arm.

"Well enough," Blaine replied. "Are you our guide again?"

"Yes. One hopes you'll have a calm visit."

Blaine cracked a smile. "One hopes."

He sent a silent prayer to the Dusk Star for that, wanting Nilsine to hear it.