Chapter 92:

The trials didn’t stop. And neither did the parades. The Chenta nationalists began holding more of them, in fact. Not only that, they also started to form patrols so that if you lived in a Chenta dominant area of the castle, the Soldiers and Servies Syndicates couldn’t arrest you as easily.

Zedid and Vek had their first fight when Vek refused to move down to Zone 4 where there were more Chenta patrols. “Why not?!” she screamed at him. “Do you want the Syndicates to come get us? We may be servies, but we were Lady Nari’s agents, and they hate Lady Nari!”

“I can’t,” he whispered.

“Are you not seeing the same castle as me? The hallways are filled with wall-stocked serfs in this zone!”

“I just can’t.”

“Vek… they’re using the Free Serf files to convict. You know… I don’t want everyone to know what’s in mine.”

Vek closed his eyes. He blinked away his tears. “You go,” he whispered. “I won’t hold it against you. Go.”

Zedid was weeping too, her whole frame trembling as she clung to him. They were sitting on his bunk bed this time, alone for now, thankfully. “Go,” Vek said again. “You should go down to Zone 4.”

“Why won’t you come with me?”

“I just can’t,” he whispered again, helplessly, unhappily.

Zedid buried her face in her arms and screamed. Vek tried to hold her, but she thrust him away. Bowing his head, Vek tried to think. He knew he had to do something. But what? His mind was spinning. He couldn’t feel anything but fear and panic crushing him closer and closer. Maybe he should move with Zedid – but what if the Chenta found out who he was? Maybe he should throw in with the Syndicates – but what if they found out what he had done? Rock-god, there was no way out for him, no way at all, no matter which way he turned death was waiting for him, and all he could do was sit and let himself be devoured, hoping against all hope that surely this would all come to an end soon, surely Lady Nari had things under control, surely she would not allow harm to come to him!

***

“Cold, cold, the water is always cold these days!”

Vek glanced up at the Chenta sitting in the bath with him. The man wasn’t wrong; the water was unheated. Vek had only just gotten in and he was already planning on getting out after a fast scrub. In fact, as far as Vek could tell, he and the man were the only ones inside the bathhouse at all.

Apparently that meant the Chenta felt comfortable enough to complain openly. “Why doesn’t Lady Nari do anything? Doesn’t she have the Promised Daughter with her? Why is she hiding her? Are things not bad enough yet?”

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Vek shrugged a single shoulder, carefully. There was no mist or steam in the bathhouse, so yes, he could tell it was empty, but that didn’t mean nobody was listening. Agitating against Lady Nari was still illegal; the Chenta nationalists were also against it. But defending her, arguing on her behalf, well, that was frowned upon by the Syndicates. So it was better to say nothing. It was better to get out of the bath and away from the conversation completely.

The Chenta, however, didn’t seem to care. He was old, one of the oldest serfs Vek had ever seen, clearly a doctor-priest or regent from his diction and demeanor. “It’s not just me who thinks this, you know. A lot of people are asking, where’s the Promised Daughter? Isn’t she supposed to save us? Why is Lady Nari so silent about her?”

Vek gave a half-nod. Again, the man wasn’t wrong. Vek had heard plenty of whispers these past several diurnals asking where where where is the Promised Daughter? It had been seven diurnals, in fact, since the first Chenta nationalist parade. Seven dizzying, whirling, madcap diurnals. Vek closed his eyes, drumming the seat beside him with his four-fingered hand. Underneath the water the movement was slow, sluggish. He’d hoped to come to the bathhouse to relax; it was nice since the Uprising to not have to sneak in anymore. But Vek could already tell that he wasn’t going to find the peace he was looking for. Fear and dread were rising up inside his heart once more. Where where where is the Promised Daughter?

Abruptly Vek rose. Lukewarm water streaming off his back, he grabbed his towel from the tiled floor beside the pool and wrapped it around himself. Vek had stolen the towel from some doctor-priest’s dorm because he’d needed a towel and liked the sight of it, and what did it matter if everything was going to pieces anyway? Oh, Vek knew he was being a bad serf, very casteist, oh, rock-god, he hadn’t gone to a single interrogation since Anzana’s, he was ignoring all of Op’s telegraphs, he didn’t go to any of the squad meetings Hurez called, he just ate and drank and slept and held Zedid with both arms like his heart was breaking –

“Maybe that pamphlet-writer was right,” Vek heard the Chenta say behind him. “Maybe Lady Nari doesn’t even know where the Promised Daughter is.”

Of course she doesn’t, Vek thought savagely, his back still turned to the pool and the man in it. Of course she doesn’t, and of course she can’t say so. If you knew that Lady Nari had lost the Promised Daughter, you’d lose all confidence in her, wouldn’t you? So she has to stay silent, because that way you don’t know for sure, and so you’ll hesitate before throwing in against her.

But me, I know. I know that the Promised Daughter’s absence is not any part of Lady Nari’s plan. I know that Lady Nari has no answer for your questions. I know that she’s not in control. Oh rock-god, she’s not in control, she’s not, she’s not, she’s not, she’s not –

***

They came for him later that night.

Vek awoke with a start at the sound of a door crashing open. He blinked as the blackout curtain was ripped off and as daysleep’s light poured into the room. Eight hands grabbed him, two on each arm and two on each leg. He was yanked onto the floor next to his bunk. He could hear someone screaming – Zedid – she was on her knees on her bed shouting, “What are you doing, let him go, let him go!”

But Vek didn’t say a word. It was strange, really. He felt almost relieved. For weeks he’d been waiting, waiting, waiting and now finally, at last, they were here.

“Take him out,” Vek heard someone say to his right. Zedid was still shouting, she was even getting to her feet, but it was too late, he was already being hustled out of the dorm and into the darkened hallway. Normally hallways were lit up at all times by red bottle-lamps along the coved ceiling, but lately more and more had been going out, which made it hard for Vek to tell who exactly had arrested him. Was it a Syndicate? Most likely. It could be a Chenta nationalist patrol though. Maybe they were starting to do arrests too.

He was given no more time to look around and wonder. A sack was slipped over his head and his hands were tied behind his back. Only then did Vek’s initial sense of relief ebb away. Please, he suddenly started praying. Please, please, don’t let anyone I know hear about my trial, don’t let anyone I know show up, let it all be strangers, let it all be strangers…