Ashes Unwritten: Oblivion's Heir [Volume 1 Complete!]

Chapter 77: The Shape of Subtlety



Kess had a hard time hiding her shock at the man who sat in the manor's meeting room.

"Niall," she breathed as she entered the room, Rowan on her heels. Claire would certainly be eavesdropping behind them, but there was little Kess could do about that. Nothing was quite as sensitive as she pretended it was—but she did like annoying Claire.

Niall looked up, smiling, his clothes a surprisingly sensible blend of comfort and fashion. His face held a mixture of surprise and fondness as he studied her.

"Why, Lady Kess! I'd heard you'd taken ill, but I barely recognized you without the finery, though you are, of course, beautiful as ever." He rose and planted a kiss on her hand, though Kess felt silly standing there in her bare feet, arm sling, trousers, and simple button-up shirt. Rowan stiffened beside her and she stifled a laugh.

"I apologize for my absence, Niall," she replied smoothly. "And for my current appearance." Niall laughed, bowing his head slightly at Rowan as he found his way back to one of the two couches in front of the hearth.

"It was the court politics, wasn't it?" he asked, winking. "Draining for anyone, but especially for someone as frank as yourself."

"Niall," Rowan said as they sat on the opposite couch. "It's a pleasure having you visit, but…" He trailed off, eying the storm outside. "How did you make it through the city in that?"

Niall raised both eyebrows, surprised. "Fulminant wards, of course," he said. "With the number you have on this building, I had assumed that you had someone who could—" He paused, looking at Kess. "Well, never mind. I've come to deliver some troublesome news, unfortunately."

Kess tried to fold her arms, forgetting about the sling. Instead, she stuffed her good hand into one of her trouser pockets, watching Niall. Beside her, Rowan sighed. "I'm beginning to think that no news is good news." Niall settled his ankle over his knee, his arms folded. His posture was relaxed, but beneath his locks of blond hair, Kess saw his brow knit together in thought.

"Your father has come forward to claim Mariel's Seat," Niall said. Something dropped in Kess's stomach. "He's declared that it's been empty for long enough, and that legally, he's entitled to it—even with Mariel alive."

"Can he do that?" Rowan asked. Niall nodded.

"I'm afraid so. There are quite a few loopholes he can work with. No Seat is designed to be empty as long as that one has, and as such, there are mechanisms in place that allow it to be filled in such a situation."

Kess tried to keep her face neutral, but knew that Niall would see something with his trained eye. She squirmed uncomfortably. Helping the Downhill was one thing—claiming the Seat was another entirely. But the idea of Rowan's father, of all people occupying what should have been her Seat made her stomach churn.

"Do you think it's possible that I might convince him to nominate me in his stead?" Rowan asked suddenly. Kess blinked in surprise, glancing at him. Rowan's eyes were steady, his back straight. Niall watched him uncomfortably.

"While I admire your tenacity, I'm afraid I am unsure how a disowned son with no Fulminancy of his own could ascend to a Seat." He tapped a finger against his cheek, eyes on the table. "I mean no disrespect, it's just that there's no precedent for it. Your father would be one thing, the Council itself another matter entirely."

"There should be another way in," Kess said quietly, chewing her lip. Rowan and Niall turned to look at her. She had spent most of her life actively avoiding this very Seat. Though she was loath to take it herself, and would find it rather impossible in the current circumstances, she remembered one way to occupy it—only because she had been waiting for this day for many years.

"It's been six years in a week and two days," she said, voice quiet. That night came flashing back to her, and she shook her head to clear it. "That's obviously the clause your father's using—that after six years, a new Seat must be found. But the clause also says that priority be given to someone residing Downhill for at least two years."

"So we speak with my father, convince him that he's more likely to be accepted if he nominates me for the Seat, and suggest that I'll be easily manipulated," Rowan said. Across the table, Niall seemed unconvinced, but he nodded.

"That still leaves the issue of your lack of Fulminancy," Niall said.

"Do you remember what we last discussed?" Rowan asked.

"Of course."

"I've managed to do some research of my own," Rowan said, leaning forward. "We were correct about the elements—I'm almost certain that many people without Fulminancy simply aren't attuned to the same elements as people we've come to recognize as Fulminancers. If traditional Fulminancy is increasingly unstable, perhaps what I have is an extremely stable variety of Fulminancy—one that would help temper and control other Fulminancers. The Seat of Mariel might have even been designed for this type of Fulminancy."

Kess adjusted the sling around her shoulders, thinking. Certainly the Seat had been designed to keep people like Rowan's father from ever taking power. But as long as she could remember, the Seat had been plagued with problems. It had last been occupied at length by a distant cousin of Kess's, and family stories suggested he'd gone mad. He'd perhaps had too much Fulminancy. Kess sunk into the couch, uncomfortable.

"Well," Niall said, reaching for one of the cakes the servants had left out. "While I certainly understand the morality behind your idea, I'm not certain your father will." He chewed thoughtfully. "I'm quite interested to hear about what the two of you dug up in the Archives, especially given what Forgebrand did with the building not long after you left."

Kess and Rowan exchanged a glance. He has to know, Kess thought, glancing at Niall. Indeed, the man's eyes held a spark of recognition. Forgebrand couldn't have done all of that on their own, Niall. You know who I am—so why play this game?

"We've got quite a lot to sort through," Rowan finally replied. "But you can be sure that I'll send for you when we know something more."

"A man of your word," Niall said agreeably. "When you do so, I'd prefer to meet in person, if at all possible. That storm is dreadful, but has a few distinct advantages—it's rather difficult to be followed in it, for example. I wouldn't trust the post these days, between the difficulty of delivery and the chances that something might be intercepted."

Niall sighed, eyes distant as he worked on some new puzzle in his head. In a way, he reminded her of Oliver, though Oliver had often left food alone for days in the pursuit of a new passion. Niall, though thin, seemed like he never missed the opportunity to eat.

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"In any case, your father is drumming up quite the support Uphill with one of the newer Seats," Niall continued. "He suggests that Mariel's actions down here are an example of why power should be regulated." He shrugged. "Of course, he's painted himself as a responsible individual with some manner of control, which is something Mariel lacks."

His eyes fell on Kess, and she reached for a cake with her good hand to hide the heat that crept into her face. Even if Niall did know, she certainly wouldn't be admitting it to him anytime soon.

"Then we play into that," Rowan said, wagging his finger in the air in thought. "We convince him that I'm the perfect political pawn. All the power, none of the responsibility of the position." He looked at Kess. "After his last conversation with us, he'll suspect that I'm trying to win his favor and make good on our deal."

"Deal?" Niall asked.

"He promised his father he was Fulminant," Kess said, noting Rowan's chagrined expression. At the time, the comment had seemed ludicrous—a desperate play to distract his father. But with the information they now had, Kess wondered if Rowan hadn't been a step ahead of everyone else.

"Ah," Niall replied. "That explains the power transfer you were looking into, then."

Kess nodded, chewing the delicate cake. She hadn't thought she wanted it, but her appetite had roared back with Rowan's touch earlier. Regardless of what they decided to do here, she'd have to look into that more with him. She dusted off her hands.

"What it doesn't explain, however, is why you're here, Niall," she said, leaning forward.

The man smiled at her, but there was no humor there. "Why are you in a sling, Lady Kess?"

"I fell." She scowled at him, and he laughed lightly.

"You see my point. Does a man need to share all his secrets? I'm sure you two have a few as well." His eyes lingered on Kess too long for her taste. "In any case, I came only to deliver the news. You may choose what to do with it. I would, however, like to ask a favor in return." Kess sat back, folding her good arm over the sling. Now we'll see why you're really here, she thought.

"The Downhill isn't the only one having problems," Niall began. "We've had people whisked away at court multiple times now—usually high ranking Fulminancers. Court gossips suggest they've gone mad, but it's hard to figure out what's happening when they're never seen again. There's also an odd mention of shadows, for some reason. I imagine it's simply a trick of the light, but the rumor mill tells of Fulminancers consumed by shadow." Kess stiffened, remembering her own encounter. "It is, however, an odd time for the city," Niall continued. "The storm does little to ease minds, and human imagination is a powerful force—particularly when afraid.

"Regardless, I'd like to stem the tide of Fulminancy that enters the Uphill. Maybe there's no causation, but these events began when your father and the rest of the Council began to encourage the…accruement… of Fulminancers from the lower city." His face held a look of distaste. "They've long been encouraged to move Uphill, of course—we do have the best training and education for that sort of thing—but what's been happening recently involves force. I can only assume that it has something to do with the madness, though I can't be certain."

Odd, Kess thought. More evidence that what Mariel said wasn't just a hallucination. It didn't bode well. If the Council really was trying to extend their powers using Fulminancers, then Mariel's other concerns were just as valid. Kess just wasn't sure what to do about any of it. She certainly couldn't fight the Council alone—especially if they were bolstering their powers with other Fulminancers. Kess repressed a sigh.

"And what do you expect us to do about it?" Rowan asked. Niall held his gaze with little patience.

"You mean to tell me that you aren't responsible for the faction of Forgebrand stationed around this home?"

"We—"

"We'll do what we can," Kess cut in. Clouds, Niall's games were frustrating. And she'd already been doing everything she could. She and Rae stopped wagons full of Fulminancers on a daily basis. Nothing seemed to help. They were rounded up another day, another time. With her injured, more would make their way up to the city tonight. Perhaps she could get Rae to—

"I also stumbled upon something that might be of particular interest to you, Rowan," Niall said. Beside her, Rowan sat up. "These lockets that the Seats wear—I thought they were mere ornamentation." The man frowned, turning his own locket in his hands. "I am no longer sure that is the case."

Kess felt the blood drain from her face. Her own locket sat heavy against her chest. She'd never shown it to Rowan, or anyone else for that matter. It seemed best left in the past.

"They appear to be part of something larger," Niall said, eyes grave.

"What makes you say that?" Kess asked. He tilted his head, examining the locket.

"Well, because I woke up one day and mine was missing. There was a note left in its place that said it was being inspected at a jeweler, only mine did not come back the same locket. And on the same day, I saw what I imagine was my locket around your father's neck," he said, nodding at Rowan. "And, though your father has always been a powerful man, his power has only grown lately."

Kess frowned, thinking of the book on power transfer she and Rowan had found in the Archives. While the book hadn't explicitly mentioned lockets as a conduit, it had mentioned the need for a physical item with any transfer. Like most academic texts, that mention had been vague, meandering, and hard to understand, and she and Rowan had mostly focused on the other aspects of power transfer. Her stomach sunk, and she looked at Rowan. Comprehension dawned in his eyes. They had looked over the book together not even a week ago.

"We might have an idea or two, but we need time," Rowan said. "We'll let you know what we find." Niall clapped his hands together, smiling.

"Excellent. I will leave you two to your mysteries," he said, moving to stand. "If Rowan nominates himself for the Seat, I shall be one of his first supporters."

The man snagged another cake and made his way to the door, with Kess and Rowan behind him. Then he stopped, spinning, as if he remembered something.

"Ah! I also looked into the man you requested information on a few weeks back," he said, looking down at Kess. He frowned. "He's a hard one to track down, I'm afraid. His information suggests he's in one place, but he's in another instead. I can only assume he has some freedom of movement, but not enough to be seen on a regular basis. He's not a Seat, exactly, though he wears a silver and blue sash as you mentioned. I'm afraid my status as one of the least trusted Seats does not help me here."

Kess silently let out a breath. At least he's still alive, she thought.

"It's fine, Niall," Kess said, reaching out to pat the man's arm with her good hand. He smiled.

"Regardless, when I have further information on where he is, I will send word. I assume you have your own spies on the matter as well?" Kess half shrugged, watching her feet. She wasn't sure if Wyatt's family counted as spies, but it was the best she could do.

"In a manner of speaking."

"How can we thank you, Niall?" Rowan asked. Niall watched the two of them for a very long moment. They had, of course, provided the man with plenty of information of their own, but Niall was either extraordinarily generous, completely foolish, or both. Descending Downhill in the Ashfall's gale was a form of lunacy all its own. The man had to want something. But he smiled at them both, something keen in his gaze.

"There's nothing to thank me for," he said, his voice quieter and more serious than usual. He looked at Kess, awe, disappointment, and something paternal in his gaze. "Win me my city back, Mariel."

And with that, he shut the door, leaving a stunned Kess on the other side.

"Well, that was only a matter of time," she muttered. Rowan snorted beside her.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are," he said. "Blowing things up, falling off buildings—he was bound to notice, eventually." He walked over to snag one of the last few cakes from the plate, but Kess stayed at the door, staring at the grain of the wood. Niall's knowledge bothered her, but there was nothing she could do about it. Kess would just have to watch him. But there was a bigger issue at hand.

"Rowan," she said, tracing the grain. "If we're going to do this, we need to figure out how your powers work. And we need to talk about something else," she finished, feeling her locket as it pulsed through her shirt.


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