It took every ounce of Liv’s self control not to raise her hand to her forehead, and rub at her temples.

The headache truly hadn’t been so bad, when she’d seen Keri off after the morning meal. Several hours of going in circles with an elder each from Houses Esteri and Isakki had, however, managed to do what days away from the mana of a rift could not.

“As I have said, Livara, we will be more than happy to aid in your construction efforts,” Elder Vilja repeated, for perhaps the third time. The representative of House Isakki was a stocky woman, with wide shoulders, strong hands, and gray hair cut close to her skull to reveal her ears. Those ears were, perhaps, the only elegant thing about her. “We are even willing to negotiate a substantial discount, in return for a portion of our compensation being paid in mana stone.”

“But you are not willing to discuss votes during the council,” Liv said, with a sigh. “Nor supporting a more permanent alliance.”

“I understand that you weren’t raised among our people,” Vilja said.

“I was not,” Liv admitted.

“So you likely are not aware that House Keria has been a patron to my family for a very long time,” Vilja said. “We helped to build Al’Fenthia, Soltheris, and even laid the foundations of Mountain Home. We’ve worked for almost all of the other houses at some point or another - with your own family being the notable exceptions. House Keria sees to it that we have the supplies we need, and helps us to move our work crews. They provide troops to protect us, and to cull the Open Sky Glacier Rift. To be perfectly blunt, I’m going to wait for Elder Aira to arrive, and for her to tell me what she wants. If there’s some issue she doesn’t have a clear preference on, then we might be able to make a deal. But until then?” The older woman shook her head.

Liv turned to the man at Vilja’s side. “And you prefer to remain neutral.”

“It is essential that we do,” Elder Marttis said. His voice might have been the most distinctive thing about him: it was calm and even, never showing a hint of impatience or anger. “The other houses must be able to trust that Esterian healers do not take sides, do not hold grudges, and will heal any of our people who come to them. That goodwill is what our entire existence is predicated upon. When we call for aid, the other houses will come, because we serve all of the Vakansa.”

“Do you just abstain from everything?” Liv asked the old man.

“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “We seek to establish and strengthen consensus. When a clear majority prevails, we add our support.”

Liv was fairly certain that her eye was twitching.

“However,” Liv’s grandmother said, with a pleasant smile that had not cracked throughout the entire morning, “House Esteri could be interested in an exchange with the new college at Bald Peak?”

“Yes.” Marttis nodded. “We could be convinced to send two or three of our healers to attend your college as advanced students. In this way, we could learn from each other, and perhaps consider long term cooperation.”

By the time the two elders had left, Liv had, on the one hand, secured exactly the sort of commitment she wanted for the new college – but on the other, none of the political support she so desperately needed. Only once she was alone with her grandmother did she finally allow her feelings to show.

“I feel like that was a waste of time,” she admitted, slouching back in her folding camp chair with a groan. There were plenty of logs around the cook fire in the center of House Syvä encampment, but they had no support for her back whatsoever. If she hadn’t been feeling the lack of rift mana, she would have put up with it, but in her opinion there was no need to be miserable in multiple ways at the same time.

“I don’t think that at all,” Eila said. “You have secured aid in building your college, and the promise of students who are expertly trained healers. To me, that sounds like quite a lot.”

“Or the college, yes,” Liv agreed. “But it doesn’t help us win any of the votes we need to carry. What I can’t figure out is why you set this meeting up at all – you must have known the Isakka would go whichever Elder Aira goes.”

“I did. Consider this both a lesson in our politics – a subject you sorely need to master – and a chance to lay the groundwork of future relationships. Besides,” Eila said, raising a cup of tea to her lips, “those votes aren’t out of your reach. They both told you under precisely what circumstances you can have their support.”

“Under conditions that are out of my control,” Liv complained. “The Esteri won’t help unless we’re already winning, and the Isakki will just do whatever Aira wants. Which means she’s in a position to swing practically every vote one way or the other.”

“There is a reason the Daughter of Thorns will be arriving last,” her grandmother said. “She can’t quite dictate to the council – especially with your Whitehill votes, and the Red Shield Tribe coming. But absent your grandfather, it’s very close.”

Their next appointment was with with Elders Taneli and Eliel of House Asuris. Of the two, Liv was slightly more familiar with Taneli, who had been stationed at one of the three rifts they had suspected Ractia might have attached a tether to. Her more personal connection, however, was with Eliel, who she’d only seen once at a funeral.

“How is your son?” Liv asked, once they’d all sat down. There was more tea, but she only took a sip.

“It is difficult, with the missing leg,” Eliel admitted. “We sent for one of the Lucanian wheeled chairs to be delivered, but I can tell that my son is impatient with the contraption. He has been speaking of trying to imprint a word that can control metal.”

“One of my classmates as Coral Bay could control silver,” Liv said, trying not to remember how she’d ripped Arianell Seton’s face open the last time they’d fought. “I could certainly believe someone with that word could make themselves a substitute leg, and animate it. Though I’m not certain silver would be strong enough to support a grown man’s weight.”

“Iron might be better,” Taneli remarked, and Liv noticed that everyone who had gone to Varuna paused at that. No doubt they were all remembering the same things.

“There is another option,” she pointed out, after a moment. “At the Foundry Rift, there was a Vædic machine that rebuilt Calevis kæn Iravata’s entire lower body. If it could do that, I’m certain it could make Taavetti a new leg.”

“You believe so?” Eliel remarked, leaning forward with clear interest. “And this Foundry Rift is under your control, I presume?”

“Under the control of the Crosbies, who are sworn to me,” Liv confirmed. “We’d have to dig it out; we buried it under a landslide to make certain Ractia’s forces couldn’t get any more use out of it. And it might need a few repairs… but I think it’s something worth pursuing.”

“In return, I presume, for our votes on some number of issues,” Taneli broke in. “An accommodation.”

Liv hesitated for only a moment. “No. No, if things had gone differently, he might have been my uncle. I’ll introduce you to Baron Arnold before we all leave here, one way or the other. You can work out access with him; I’m certain he won’t mind you travelling in by waystone.”

Eliel and Taneli exchanged a glance. “I told you,” Taavetti’s father said, with a smile.

This tale has been pilfered from NovelBin. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The other elder sighed. “There are quite a few among our people who are very worried about you, Livara,” Taneli said. “You are, by any reckoning, a war hero and a skilled mage. As a result, you have both personal power, and growing popularity among the soldiers who fought in Whitehill and in Varuna. Some of them seem to think you’re the Lord of Winter returned. Add to that the support of both House Syvä and House Däivi, and you have accumulated an astonishing amount of power very quickly.”

“Our Houses were very nearly allied, by Taavetti and my daughter,” Liv’s grandmother pointed out. “Taneli, you were in Varune. Surely you can see that my granddaughter has not abused her power.”

“Not yet,” the man admitted. “Very well. Tell us what you want, Livara.”

“Mercy for Wren Wind Dancer,” Liv said. “She’s fought and bled beside our soldiers. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“You returned my son to be, when I thought he was lost,” Eliel said. “That is more than worth a single act of forgiveness. Done, for my part.”

Taneli shrugged. “I suspect this is the least of your aims. Continue.”

Liv wasn’t quite certain whether to take that as an agreement or not; it was the difference between confirmed sixteen votes for Wren’s life, or seventeen. “Punishment for Juhani of Soltheris, for disobeying orders.”

“Done.” Taneli nodded. “I do not think you will find that controversial.”

“Mercy for Wren’s father.”

Both elders spoke at once, and gave different answers; it was Eliel who explained first. “Again, I owe you my son’s life. I don’t agree, personally, but I am willing to give you my voice for this.”

“Nighthawk is too dangerous to be allowed to live,” Taneli said. “Whatever goodwill our house has for you, it is not enough. What else?”

“The alliance needs to continue,” Liv argued, leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees. “We need to be able to coordinate a response the moment we find Ractia. We can’t do that if we’re over a dozen separate houses, baronies, tribes, and what have you. We need a centrally organized army, at the very least. They need to train together.”

“A central army is no longer an alliance; it is a kingdom,” Taneli said. “No, I cannot support this. We will help you find Ractia; we will come to fight when we are needed. But as our own, free people.”

“I will support you, for whatever that is worth,” Eliel said, after a long moment. “For what could have been, and what was returned to us. But it is true, many of our people fear lowering their head for another collar to be placed around their neck. This will be your most difficult argument to make, Livara. I cannot help but expect it to fail.”

☙

By the time Liv walked back over to the Whitehill encampment, the midday meal was already in progress, and Keri had returned from meeting with his family. While Liv’s guards, who had accompanied her to her family’s campfire and back, slipped off to get food and rest, Rei leaped up from the log next to his father and came running over to give her a hug.

“Can you make more slides?” the little boy asked, after she’d given him a pat on the back.

“Maybe,” Liv said. “But only after you’ve eaten all your food. Your father promised to bring some for me, too. I hope you’ve got something good.”

“A caribou stew,” Keri called, holding up his own bowl. “They gave us an entire cauldron – it’s the smaller one hanging over the fire. There’s flatbread, as well, fresh baked on hot rocks. It should still be warm.”

It took Liv some doing to get Rei back over to his meal – Master Grenfell had made the mistake of giving the boy a handheld telescope as soon as he’d arrived, and nothing would do but that he show it to Liv, even though there were no stars out, before she sat down. Finally, she managed to get her camp chair unfolded, a bowl, spoon, and hunk of torn bread in her lap, and a goblet of watered wine at her feet.

“What did your father say?” she asked Keri, after Grenfell had taken Rei off to show him how to disassemble the telescope and clean the lenses.

“You have two votes for Wren, and against Juhani,” he told her. “Those were always going to be the easiest arguments to make.”

“That makes nineteen for each,” Liv said. She was fairly certain she understood what Elder Taneli had meant, even if his words were a bit unclear. “If Aira speaks for Wren again, that will take us over the line – but we won’t know for certain until she gets here, and we can talk to her. Her father, and the alliance, on the other hand…” She let out a groan.

“A frustrating morning, I take it?” Keri asked.

Liv nodded, because she’d just put a spoonful of stew in her mouth, and needed a moment to swallow it. “We have Elder Eliel’s vote on everything,” she said. “And I’ve promised him access to the Foundry Rift.”

“I hope he’s willing to bring his own work crews,” Arnold Crosbie grumbled. “Your girl Rose buried that place good.”

“They know it's a project,” she assured him. “But that’s still only thirteen votes toward making the alliance into something permanent. If we can convince the Red Shield Tribe to join, and pass a vote to allow it, that could put us as high as eighteen, because then they’d have to get a vote on that as well. But it still isn’t enough.”

Keri sighed, and looked down at his feet. “My aunt is willing to give you her vote. On everything – but for a price.”

Liv paused with her spoon held just in front of her face. “Clearly not a price I’m going to want to pay.”

“I don’t even want to say it out loud,” Keri admitted. “Because I’m worried what you’ll think of me.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

Liv put her spoon back into her bowl, stood up from her chair, and walked in front of the cook fire so that she could sit down on the log next to Keri. “Whatever nonsense your aunt is up to, I’m not going to blame you for any of it,” she promised him. “I promise. Just tell me what she said, and then we’ll figure out whether it's worth trying to bargain with her.”

Still looking down to avoid her eyes, Keri winced, and then spoke. “She said that she would give you her vote on everything you wanted, if you took someone from House Bælris as your daiverim - so that your first child, and your heir, would be of our family.”

It was Arnold Crosbie who spoke first. “If it’s a husband you want, you can have one of my boys,” he exclaimed. “Free of charge. Take your pick - I’ve certainly got enough of them!”

Only when Keri looked up at her, from where his head still hung down almost below his knees, and clearly in an agony of anticipation, was Liv able to make herself speak. “I promised I wouldn’t be angry with you, and I’m not,” she said. “I’m furious with your aunt. She didn’t even have the honesty to say the rest out loud, did she?”

“She was – not specific about who, in particular, she was proposing as a match,” Keri admitted.

“It’s Sohvis,” Liv shot back. “Of course it’s Sohvis. She said something about it when we were at Mountain Home. She wants me to be his second kwenim.” The thought of it sent a riot of emotions through her body, so strong that she found herself trembling – not in fear, but in disgust and rage. To think – the withered old woman expected her to just accept a place as second, to the woman who’d betrayed Keri. The very idea was revolting. Ridiculous.

“But she didn’t say that when she made the offer,” Keri insisted. “You can hold her to that.” He straightened up, and turned toward her. “It could be someone other than Sohvis. If that – if that was something you wanted.”

Liv blinked, and felt color rushing into her cheeks. Did he just offer to – She cut that thought off, immediately, before it could go any further. “We don’t need to give her an answer right away, do we?”

“No.” Keri shook his head. “But once the voting begins, you’ll have run out of time.”

“Nineteen isn’t enough,” Liv murmured. “I need to know that Wren is safe. I promised her this. And the alliance –”

“We need it to hunt down Ractia,” Keri said, speaking her own thoughts out loud.

It was funny, now, to think they’d argued about how to cross the painted desert. But in this, he and Liv were completely agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll listen,” she admitted. “The barons in Lucania didn’t. The Mages Guild didn’t. I’m not taking any more chances on – on just convincing people to do what’s right.”

“You’ll make the match, then?” Baron Crosbie asked.

“One vote isn’t enough.” She bit her lip. “I can decide about Väina tär Väinis later.” A part of her whispered that it wouldn’t be so bad to wed Keri, but she firmly shoved that thought away.

“We could try to negotiate with House Kalleis,” Keri said. “If you promise to drop any vote to punish Juhani, I’m sure you can get something out of him.”

Liv shook her head. “No. I want them to be desperate, first.” Desperate once they saw she had the votes to punish their commander. Ready to offer her whatever she wanted, if only she’d back off.

“Then what?” Crosbie asked. He hadn’t been in her tent the night before.

“I’m going to go and speak to Elder Raija,” Liv declared, though the thought of it made the palms of her hands sweat. “If House Kaulris wants to test me, fine. I’ll take their test. As long as they give me their support.”