"You do get these righteous fits."
"You’d have done the same thing."
A knock at the door ended the conversation, and it opened to reveal Lieutenant Danress.
"Lady Weston is ready to speak with you now."
Rennyn blinked. The Sentene mage had her uniform fully fastened, hiding the lower part of her face but totally failing to disguise simmering fury. Rennyn reviewed her conversation, wondering what she could have revealed, but then she realized that Danress was barely looking at her. This was nothing to do with the Claires.
Exchanging a blank look with Seb, she allowed herself to be led away. It wasn’t just Danress. Rennyn caught a glimpse of several people having what seemed to be a heated argument in the Sentene’s central hall. The whole atmosphere was charged with sudden upset. Decidedly worrying.
Lady Weston was alone in a cavernous and slightly musty study. She looked old, closer to her true age instead of the forty-ish woman magic allowed her to remain. She didn’t seem surprised when Lieutenant Danress, instead of politely delivering Rennyn and departing, abruptly launched into speech.
"M’Lady, please, is there nothing you can do?"
The Grand Magister made a quelling gesture, fond but stern. "There are some battles it’s better to concede, Jolien. This is one."
"But it’s uncalled for," Lieutenant Danress said, tugging her collar open as if it stifled her. "They’ve done nothing to deserve it. And it’s so ungrateful. Not to mention unjust."
"Justice and politics rarely walk together," Lady Weston said.
"Has something happened?" Rennyn asked, though she had a suspicion.
Lieutenant Danress turned to her, with a hint of doubt which told its own story. "The Queen has ordered that the Kellian be placed under injunction and put to the Question," she said, her voice quavering with anger.
"Someone’s actually taking the idea of them worshipping Solace seriously?"
"Perhaps not worship. But the demand is growing that they submit some proof that there remains no lingering allegiance." Lady Weston shook her head. "The Kellian have their enemies, and this is naturally an ideal moment to strike. It comes as no surprise."
"An ideal moment?" Lieutenant Danress took a frustrated step, as if she were longing to hit someone not there. "Haven’t they noticed what’s been going on? There couldn’t be a worse moment! Don’t they understand anything at all about what the Kellian do for us?"
"Possibly not," Lady Weston said dryly. "But this is a command from our Queen, Jolien. The time for argument is past."
Rennyn was finding it very hard not to think about Captain Illuma catching her and carrying her out of the blast site. Nor of a badly-needed bath. She had been spending more than a little effort, these past couple of weeks, trying not to think constantly of the Kellian. It would have been so much easier if she’d been able to avoid working with them until the last moment. But Seb was right.
"Where do I fit into the interrogation schedule?" she asked, and smiled at their arrested expressions. "After all, I am Solace’s direct descendent, and head of the Montjuste-Surclere family. If anyone’s going to be accused of lingering allegiances, it should surely be me."
"You would allow that?" Lady Weston’s surprise was palpable.
"I don’t guarantee to answer everything, but somehow I suspect the questions they’ll ask are ones I have fairly definitive views about." She considered Lieutenant Danress. "You’re a descendent of one of those Eferum Travellers, aren’t you? Maybe you should be interrogated too, just in case you’re some kind of advance spy. Really, is there anyone in the Sentene who can truly be considered above suspicion? Questioning only the Kellian is a trifle lax, Lady Weston."
"That is an excellent point." Lady Weston glanced at Lieutenant Danress, who nodded eagerly.
"If it’s the only way to balance this," the younger mage said. "Gladly."
"Very well." Lady Weston pulled a sheet of paper from the reports spread on her desk, and began writing. "Take this to Councillor Allerton, Lieutenant," she ordered. "And then pass my command to the Senior Captains."
"Yes, M’Lady!" Lieutenant Danress said crisply, and strode out of the room. She looked very happy for someone who’d just been added to an interrogation list.
"A show of solidarity is little enough, but it will make all the difference to morale," Lady Weston said. "There are few Sentene magi who don’t owe their lives to their partners. Particularly after Darasum House. Only the Kellian could have saved that situation."
"Oh?" Rennyn sat down in one of the high-backed chairs before the desk. "I wondered how they’d managed so few casualties."
"Instinct." Lady Weston shook her head, then rang a bell, summoning a secretary to send for spiced tea. "The Kellian have a command, Full Clear – they train it, but I’ve not heard of it being used before. It means take your mage and run. Their speed and Faille’s instinct – which is the best among the Kellian and as close to precognition as anything is likely to come – is all that prevented almost the entire Sentene from dying to that exploit of the shield. They managed to get most of the Hand present out too, and the Ferumguard were fortunately further back. But there were still deaths, and many injuries."
"Not a good moment for spiteful interrogations."
"No." Lady Weston gave Rennyn a searching glance. "I admit that I’m surprised. I had an impression you were less than eager to associate with the Kellian."
"True enough," Rennyn said, thinking over what it was safe to admit. "But that’s nothing to do with their loyalties."
"Then why?"
"Guilt, I suppose you could say." She shrugged at Lady Weston’s startled expression. "Queen Solace did two major things during her rule. The Grand Summoning is the thing she’s known for, but it’s the second which is perhaps the larger achievement."
"She created a race."
"I don’t think it was deliberate. The original Kellian were designed to be long-lived, but nothing I’ve read suggests that she intended them to breed. That’s Symbolic magic: you get more than you ask for. But even if it was only a question of the original ten golems – my family has devoted itself to dealing with the Grand Summoning; we took responsibility for it. But the Kellian – after Solace was gone, Tiandel ordered the Kellian to leave Tyrland and never return. They were…barely people. Not mindless dolls, but they existed for a specific purpose. It was everything they were. They didn’t have personal goals, personal desires. They couldn’t even speak. And Tiandel told them to go away and not come back."
"Does avoiding the Kellian who exist today balance that?"
"Not at all. But – do you know, that horrible second son of hers saw it straight away? A Montjuste-Surclere with a Kellian bodyguard. I don’t want them protecting me. I hate the idea of – using them. Besides, I just as strongly feel that I shouldn’t be talking about taking responsibility for them. They’re people, not children, not tools. Between feeling I should do something for them, and knowing I could get them killed – it’s cowardly, I know, but I just wanted to have as little to do with them as possible. Mainly to spare my own feelings."
They were interrupted by the arrival of tea and cakes, and Rennyn was glad to have been stopped. She shouldn’t have tried to explain. "Complicated, you see," she said, busying herself taking several slices of something particularly sticky and rich. "Do they have so many enemies?"
"Enough to matter. It’s not merely their appearance, or even the fact that they are superlative killers. That watchful repose rouses suspicion, and this is not the first time they’ve been accused of conspiracies, of keeping themselves separate, of being loyal not to Queen and country, but to themselves or in this case Solace Montjuste-Surclere. It’s amazing the impression a lack of casual chatter can make. If they behaved more like humans, fidgeted and complained, schemed and drank, bickered and laughed, they would be accepted far more readily, no matter what they looked like."