Guard had grown less distinct, wreathed in shifting colours as it prepared for action.
Chag shifted in his seat, trying to work out which way to duck. With Atla to his right and Pevan to his left, he didn't have a whole lot of room in which to move. Tangling with either of them could cause a fatal delay.
In a voice so toneless it almost lacked vowels completely, Ashtenzim hissed, "Relvin Atcar, Pevan Atcar and Chag Van Raighan are Separatists and have renounced the Treaty of Peace."
"I have not!" Rel's shout rang from the vaulted roof and struck jingles from the chandelier.
"The three named will avail themselves of our protection. We have no interest in the other human."
Pevan stood, and Chag followed her automatically, expecting her to head for Ashtenzim before the Guards could grab them. She stood her ground, and said, "Rel?" The one syllable gave her no chance to falter, but she needed no such advantage. She spoke the Clearseer's name as if it were a stone launched from a sling. Chag's throat tightened.
Behind his back, Rel made the flat-palmed negative sign. There was venom in his voice when he said, "I am here by authority of Taslin of the Gift-Givers, not the Treaty."
"You will stay in my custody." Taslin matched Rel's tone, and some sort of ripple burst out of Ashtenzim. Chag flinched. Rel bent double as it hit him. Taslin caught him, even as Pevan sprang forward to help. She stopped short as soon as the reflex let up.
Everything stilled for a moment, then Ashtenzim's voice again, like a hammer, "Pevan Atcar and Chag Van Raighan will avail themselves of our protection."
Chag looked to Pevan, but her eyes were fixed on Rel. Atla shrugged. The Gift-Givers were focussed on the Separatists. The moment Chag started to walk forwards, every eye seemed to be on him. He thought he could even feel the weight of Ashtenzim's and Lienia's attention. Cold and uncompromising though they were, the Separatists still held the best hope for the future.
Pevan caught hold of his arm. "Where are you going?" Her tone made the question something very close to a threat.
He glared at her. "To join our allies."
"The Separatists?" For almost the first time since he'd led her into the Separatists' cave, she looked like she was losing her cool. It was almost satisfying to see her so on edge, eyes jumping back and forth between him and the trial, face pale. When she spoke again, it was quickly, breathlessly. "Chag, you can't do that! We have no idea what's at play here. What do they want to do with us?"
"Isn't this exactly the kind of situation that justifies Separation?" He waved his hands to encompass the whole room. "Wildren politics with human lives in the balance. Gifted attacking Wildren because the Wildren couldn't understand the situation well enough to explain. It has to end."
"And what about what Taslin said?" From somewhere, Pevan found a remnant of her familiar intensity. "I still want some answers about the Separation before I'm prepared to commit to it."
"Only one place to get them." He folded his arms, jerking his head in Ashtenzim's direction.
"Both of you will come with us." Chag winced, wishing the Separatist had moderated its voice a little.
Its tone had clearly irritated Pevan. "I'm not leaving until I get some answers. What will your Separation do to the First Realm?"
"Woah, hang on." He held up a hand in front of her, then turned to face the Wildren. "How about a compromise, Ashtenzim. We'll meet with you somewhere within the Court and we can make sure we're all on the same page. Then if needs be, we can see what we can do about Rel."
The air between the Gift-Givers and the Separatists blurred with angry communication. Chag found himself edging backwards. It wasn't supposed to be possible for Second-Realm terrain to become that unstable in the Court. Taslin pulled Rel back, the Clearseer still hugging his abdomen. What had Ashtenzim done to him?
Colours that stung the eye began to flicker in the distortion. Quilo's face was impassive, but Loget's had grown twisted, well past rage and into an expression that could only mean the inquisitor had lost control of his visual appearance. It was only communication, not violence, that was passing between them and the Separatists, but in the Second Realm the line between the two was thinner than in the First.
When it ended, it did so so suddenly that Chag almost dived for the floor. He heard Pevan's sharp intake of breath ringing from the chandelier. In the wake of that single, lonely sound, though, the room collectively relaxed. The Guards settled back into their more definite, humanoid forms. Quilo actually took his eyes off Ashtenzim.
"Your compromise is accepted, Chag Van Raighan." Had Ashtenzim's voice actually softened a little? Chag glanced at Pevan, gestured for her to proceed him. She stuck him with her best rock-splitting glare and straightened upright, folding her arms.
In the end, he led the way. It was just easier than waiting for her patience to give out.
***
About the author
R. J. Davnall has been telling stories all his life, and thus probably shouldn’t be trusted to write his own bio. He holds a PhD in philosophy and teaches at Liverpool University, while living what his mother insists on calling a 'Bohemian lifestyle'. When not writing, he can usually be found playing piano, guitar or World of Warcraft.
R. J. Davnall on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/eatthepen
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Blog: https://itsthefuture.blogspot.com/
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