She thought of the moment where Gill had presented her with the problem of how they were going to get off the mountain without Pharadon. As soon as she had applied her mind to the question, she had the answer. It wasn’t something she had known how to do before. It wasn’t even something she had thought was possible before, but she immediately had known how to transport them from that lonely, windswept ledge back to Castandres.
Was that what enlightenment would mean for her? Always having a solution to every problem? It felt that way, and as comforting as that seemed, she could take no ease from it. She wished there had been more time to talk with Pharadon about enlightenment; without him, there was no one who could explain it to her. Even Amatus had not had to deal with that.
She wondered if she should borrow a horse and ride to Mirabay, rather than use the magical option she had immediately considered. Surely it was right to question the power she now had. If it became too familiar a thing, if using it became too commonplace for her, where might that lead her? Pharadon had told her to trust herself. She wanted to take comfort in that, to believe that she would never arrive at a place where she used magic so thoughtlessly it could cause harm to others, but she struggled.
Her mind flicked to a day not long ago, on a road not dissimilar to the one she was now looking at. Could she really still consider herself a good person after that? There had to have been a better way than to kill those people. Surely she could have disabled them, if only she’d taken a moment to think it through.
She’d killed that day. What was to stop her from doing it again? What was to stop her when killing was as easy as lighting a room, healing a child, transporting herself across half the country, or raining fire and hell down upon an entire city? She shuddered. She knew she was overreacting, but the thought of turning into someone like the Prince Bishop horrified her. She’d seen the look in his eyes when he spoke of the Cup or the temple; she’d seen how he used the power he’d already had. She had seen others like him, albeit on a smaller scale. A person had that avarice in them by the time they were full grown. Some were born with it, some learned it on the way up, but, she worried, might something like becoming enlightened give it to someone who hadn’t had it before?
Solène was enlightened now and had full control over the chaotic power that had always resided within her. Fear of what that power—that curse—could do, both to others and to herself, had always made her be so careful with it. Now that fear was lifted. She no longer had to worry about what she might do. Instead, she had to think about what she could do. It was even more frightening a prospect.
She swore aloud—this would only change her if she allowed it to. She was no more likely to rain fire and hell down on a city now than she would have been when she was a teenage girl. Indeed, she was less likely now; if she chose for it not to happen, it would not. Before, she could never be sure what would happen—an errant thought could cause her magic to do things she had never intended. Now that she was enlightened, that could not happen. Her magic would obey her exactly.
She chewed on her lip a moment, stared toward the horizon, and decided it was time to believe in herself. Long past time. She enjoyed the tranquillity of her surroundings a moment longer: she was standing in a field near a stand of trees, just far enough from the village not to be bothered by the ruckus of an army preparing to march. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she stood in Mirabay, on a cobbled street, surrounded by the heaving vibrancy of the home of tens of thousands of people.
CHAPTER 39
“Your Grace, a protest started this morning,” Amaury’s secretary said. “It’s grown larger throughout the day. It’s not safe to take the carriage out. The captain of the Royal Guard has suggested you take a wherry from the palace dock if you insist on going out into the city.”
“This is getting beyond a joke,” Amaury said. The city had never been run so well, yet the people protested. Every day, street cleaners, teachers, traders, and the countless other people who were the cogs of the great machine that was Mirabay gathered in places around the city, in protest. Yet the streets were clear of rubbish, there was food in the marketplaces and clean water to be had from the fountains. Could they not see what a wonder that was? His temper flared. All these distractions were keeping him from learning more about his power, and how to properly use it. He had achieved the goal of so many years, but had not the time to explore it.
“I’ll address them directly,” he said. “It is long beyond time that I did.”
“Now?” the secretary said.
“Seeing as I already have an audience gathered,” Amaury said.
“I … Are…” His secretary saw the expression on the Prince Bishop’s face. “I’ll inform the captain of the Guard and have everything prepared.”
Amaury nodded, then waited for his secretary to leave before allowing himself a sigh. Why could people not realise when they had a good thing? He stood and went to the mirror concealed behind a cabinet door. If he was going to appear before the people, he needed to make sure he looked the part of Regent. The comfortable britches, shirt, and tunic he was wearing might be fine for sitting in his office dealing with underlings, but for presenting himself to the people, more of a statement was needed.
The usual place for the monarch to address their citizens was a palace balcony that looked out over a natural amphitheatre formed by the sheer side of the hill the building sat on. The square beneath had become a traditional location to congregate and protest, somewhere Amaury had often thought would be wisely built on to prevent this. He supposed the people would always find somewhere to gather and protest. At least here, he could easily address them, and do so in complete safety.
He allowed himself a smile, knowing that he had no need of a natural amphitheatre to make himself heard. His voice would carry across the sea now, should he choose it. Still, the balcony was where people were accustomed to seeing their king, so that was where they would see Amaury.
Sitting down again, he waited for his secretary to return to escort him to the balcony, while mulling over what he was going to say. Of course, announcing the opening of the dragon menagerie to the public would be part of it, but that was only an appetiser.
Telling the people they were a bunch of ingrates who couldn’t tell a gift from a kick to their delicate parts didn’t strike him as the best approach, no matter how true that was. Also unwise, he thought, would be revealing how precarious the city’s food supply was, or that magic was instrumental in keeping people from starving by preventing their stores from spoiling.
How, then, would he win over the hearts and minds of so many enraged people? The answer was obvious, of course. It was time to stop pussyfooting around the great power he had won for himself and start actually using it. He had no intention of continually wasting it to keep the populace in line, but a nudge toward his way of thinking, simply to get the ball rolling, seemed reasonable.
He wasn’t altogether comfortable with the idea. He had no desire to do to the city’s residents what he had done to the king. People incapable of working were useless to him and to the kingdom. How to avoid that when he was so much more powerful now? Or was he? He felt like he was, but until he actually did anything with his power, he couldn’t be sure. The academics were still translating the rubbings they’d taken at the temple, and despite their daily updates, they’d yet to turn up anything of use. Amaury was beginning to give up hope. If the enlightened had taught their initiates how to use their new gifts, it seemed they hadn’t carved those lessons into the walls of their temple.