Chapter 112

The guards at the gate of the Tower recognized me. Ordinarily, I think I would have been challenged, but either Baltazar had given instructions that I be granted access to the Tower, or it simply made sense to the two men that I would have business there, given my position in The Choosing. One guard caught my eye and spat on the ground. These men were knights, only the finest were posted to guard the Tower, and many were chosen from the ranks of noble children. Young men and women who were not in line to inherit often found their place in the world in the ranks of the finest soldiers of a city. Their armor gleamed, more meticulously shining than ever, prepared to greet the fine people of foreign lands.

And this man—the spitter—held my gaze as I approached. Who was he? A Darkwater? Or just any member of a class that saw me as inferior? It says a lot about the surge of confidence I was feeling that I turned my head to him, feeling an argument rise within me. Did this fool not understand that, in all probability, in a day’s time I would be the Sword? I would be a Griidlord. He wouldn’t dare show such disrespect to one so mighty; why would he provoke me now?

But even as I opened my mouth to say something, the other knight spoke first. “Welcome, young sir, an exciting day ahead for you tomorrow—for all of us.”

I turned my head to him and saw the face of a commoner, a man who had probably risen from the lowest ranks and earned his status here by merit. My words caught in my throat. The first knight cut in, saying, “It will be a dark day for this city when a peasant wears the suit. Nothing good comes of this except shame for Boston.”

If I bristled at this, the second guard practically shivered. He fixed his colleague with a hard glare, and I felt the need to move on. I nodded to the kinder man and stepped through, up the long, hedge-lined path to the Tower. Two more knights stood at the door, but these two did not react to me. In any case, the foyer bustled with their betters and superiors, and they were too close to observant eyes to show partiality, either for or against me.

I stepped into the Tower, my ears sharp, expecting the voice—the voice I had come to speak to. But no words came. The space was busy enough, with robes in the colors of foreign cities moving among those of Boston’s, and there was no chance to speak to the voice without being observed or heard. That was fine; this was nothing I hadn’t expected. I was going to have some time with the voice before we became married to each other on the morrow, and I knew how to get the time I needed.

A robed attendant stood at the base of the main stairway. I approached the young woman, a lady not much older than myself. She saw me coming, and her eyebrows raised with interest—she recognized me.

“Sir, what brings you to the Tower this morning? Can I help you in some way?”

“I have been summoned by Lord Baltazar, to meet in his chambers,” I said, lying.

The lady seemed surprised. “In his chambers? I... the Lord Supreme is occupied at the moment.”

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That was nothing I hadn’t expected; it was part of my plan. How could Baltazar be anything but busy with the influx of foreign nobles and dignitaries demanding his attention?

I said, “Of course, it’s a busy day. He suggested there would be a private space for me to await him. I don’t mind waiting, honestly. A few minutes of peace would do me good.” I smiled modestly at her, letting her see the fatigue and weariness of the last long days on my face.

The lady shifted uncomfortably and glanced around, then said, “May I have a moment?”

“Of course,” I replied.

She bustled away quickly, and I stood, looking around. The voice still hadn’t come to me. There was nobody particularly near me, and I whispered quietly, “Voice? Are you there? I need to speak with you.”

Nothing. I glanced around again, conscious of so many eyes, but still, there was no one near me. I spoke again, still in a whisper, but louder and more demanding this time, “Voice! Goddammit, I need you. Answer me.”

Still nothing. Why was it that the voice would speak to me in the suit, even when an opponent was inches from my face, but in the Tower, it never spoke within 20 feet of another person?

The attendant returned after what felt like a long time. Her demeanor was different now, less suspicious and reserved. She greeted me this time with a much warmer smile and a more demure expression.

"Lord Baltazar is indisposed, but he wants me to assure you that he will speak to you at the first possible opportunity. If you would follow me, you can await him in his private foyer," the attendant said.

I replied, “Thank you. I understand he must have a lot on his plate with everything going on.” She raised her eyebrows at this and, for a moment, seemed more human, leaning forward slightly.

"You must have a lot on your plate as well," she said. It was at that moment I realized part of her earlier reserve was simply her being impressed by talking to me. I was the talk of the town, the favorite in The Choosing. Tomorrow, I might be the Sword of Boston—her Sword. It dazzled me for a moment, realizing she might be starstruck.

I said, “Today, I just need to rest. I’ve spent my life being busy and getting ready.”

She blushed. I couldn’t imagine why, but I suddenly had the definite sensation that she was attracted to me. It made my own cheeks feel warm and my neck tingle.

“Follow me, please, and I’ll show you the way,” she said. I followed her to the elevator. Like everything in the Tower, it seemed to be crafted of metal and plastic in such a way that there were no visible joints, just smoothness and perfection. There was silence as the elevator hummed, carrying us up the Tower. She seemed somewhat overwhelmed by the private moment in the small space, and I was overwhelmed by her reaction.

We stepped out into what I believed to be a very high level. The Tower was gigantic, but space here was at the highest premium. Inside, the Tower operated at the highest possible Order level, even higher than most of the inner zone, and it was passive. No matter how many Flows the city gathered, the Tower was always at this maximum Order level, making space here coveted above all else.

Money couldn’t buy space in the Tower, or else, I was sure, Father would have had us living in a suite rather than our townhouse outside. I didn’t know if the number of Tower dwellers was in the hundreds or very low thousands, but I knew that to live here was a blessing beyond blessings. Even most of the priests didn’t actually live in the Tower.

We traversed the hall and arrived at a door guarded by two knights. They clearly recognized the attendant, and perhaps me as well. Without objection, they allowed us to enter the suite of the Lord Supreme.