"If you fear that I will disclose your identity, then you're mistaken," Kaage said. "My only concern is the immediate threat your presence brings."
Minerva sank into her chair. She couldn't foresee where this conversation would go, didn't understand Kaage and Kodak well enough to predict how they would react to each other. It was like taking two of Kaage's vials and mixing the unknown substances together, dreading that they'd explode in her face.
"I am here with the Hydro embassy to attend the Heir's Trial and Tournament," Kodak said, raking his hand through his hair.
Kaage sighed. He tapped the untouched box in front of Minerva. "Second edition. I'm thinking the first worked well?"
"Very well." Minerva popped the lid to reveal two orbs sunk into the velvet interior. "These are smaller?"
"I compacted the design. They last the same amount of time."
Minerva couldn't help but admire Kaage's subtle control over the room. Where Kovine utilized intimidation and posturing to not let her enemies have time to breathe, Kaage did the opposite. He gave too much air, played on nerves with so ghostly a touch that you wondered whether you'd only imagined it.
"How did you know who I am?" Kodak asked. With the dim lamps in the room, shadows shrouded most of his face.
Kaage fiddled with his earring. "I made an educated guess. You are Hydro, in spite of your dark hair. You know little of the city or you would have possessed a healthier respect for the Kin. Only a desperate errand could have taken you into their lair. Now tell me, is the goal of your mission to prevent the war or to prepare for it?"
Not a war. The war. Minerva shut her eyes, but visions of fire and blood played behind her closed eyelids. She didn't understand why those running the empire thirsted after conquest—didn't want to understand. War bled you dry and left you for dead. What could they hope to gain?
In the conflict with the Terrons, the empire had fought to protect their claim on the kishuki stone mines. Launching an invasion of the North unprovoked would place her people in the role of the aggressor rather than the defender. Minerva could not condone such an action with a clear conscience.
She couldn't fault Kodak when he answered, "Both. We do not desire war, but if it should come, we mean to be ready."
"It is madness," Minerva murmured.
Kaage nodded. "Madness it may be, but there is a method to it." He held out his hands to Kodak in the Pyro gesture of goodwill. "I thank you for your honesty, Your Highness and I wish you success with your undertakings."
"You don't wish to turn me in?" Kodak asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or ... Kozakura for treason?"
Kaage smiled wryly and winked at Minerva. "You hear that? He expected me to turn you in."
"As if I wouldn't have taken you down with me." Minerva made an effort to smile back, but it slid from her face. She didn't fear a conflict between Kaage and Kodak now, but the conversation had lodged the much larger problem of hostility brewing in her mind—the tension between the Flamelands and Icelands ready to snap like a worn bowstring. Pushing her chair back, she stood to stretch her arms and back before cracking her neck.
"The guilds have no especial love or loyalty for those in power over the empire," Kaage explained to Kodak. "In my case at least, I did not join for coin or revenge. I wanted to live life on my own terms and can sympathize with your ambition to remain free. For that reason, I have no interest in either helping or hindering you, so long as you do not interfere with me and mine."
"I see," Kodak answered, relaxing. "I hope to never meet you on a battlefield then. Peace is something we can agree on."
Kaage bowed his head. "Though peace will be hard to find in the coming days."
Minerva yawned. No rest for the weary. "Shall I fetch Shika, Kaage? You said you had something of import to communicate to the both of us when we gathered again?"
"Shika and I have already discussed it," Kaage said, rolling some of his vials on the table. "And you won't find her downstairs. She's already left."
"What do you mean?" Minerva fell back onto her chair. "Left for where?"
Kaage cleared his throat a couple times before speaking. "We decided to leave the capitol for a safer place. I won't say where since we have a guest, but I've taken stock of the climate and weighed our options. They'll draft the guilds into the army first and a matter of months is only long on paper."
Shika. Gone. Kaage soon to follow. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Minerva whispered.
"Shika thought you'd try to stop us. And you know her, she hates saying goodbye." Kaage reached around the corner of the table to clasp her hand. "I know that you can't bear the mention of war. I had a sister your age who was sent to the Terron front and never came back. But we must think for the future, even if it brings up the painful past."
Minerva squeezed his hand back. He'd perceived what Shika denied out of blind prejudice—that the golden bloodlines ran through both their veins. He understood both the hurt and duty that came with rank and power. "I can't go with you," Minerva said sadly.
"I know. You're still tied here." Kaage released her hand and reached up to brush her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'll be lingering in town for a few more weeks, so I'll be sure to pass you the info before I leave. Maybe you'll be able to join us later."
Minerva's heart sank. She stood alone on an island in an ocean of fire and something invisible and unfinished kept her tethered to it as surely as one of the Terrons' unbreakable chains.
"Chin up. We'll meet again. Just ... don't go after the Phoenixes, Kozakura. Their deaths aren't worth your life." His lips parted as if to say something more and his eyes glanced down to hers. Then, before she knew it, he'd walked around the table. "I'd like to have a couple words with your friend here, if you could spare us the privacy," Kaage said, pulling on his black gloves.
"Of course," Minerva stammered. With a probing glance at the unruffled inventor, she left the room. First she paced to one end of the hallway, then back to the other end. Silently, except for small creaks rising up from the floor.
Minerva pressed her hand against her mouth. What was this feeling? It couldn't be love.
She would not be following him. If she broke her ties here, then her destination lay outside the empire and its borders. Even if it had failed before, she needed to try to free herself from Nemesis' curse. Beyond the Terron Rocklands, the Aeron lands provided a safe haven, untouched by the ravages of war. It would mean abandoning everything—her duty, her homeland—in a desperate gamble to find a cure.
But if she asked ... would Kaage go with her?
"Idiot," she mumbled. "Don't even consider it."
She had no right to think like that, not when she likely only had months promised to her now.
No officer's commission. No more war. She would carve her own path and take her life back. When she fought in the arena, she would do so on her terms—no more hollow place or ill gift of gods. After that, she would be free to disappear into the distant horizon, as Vren had. If she succeeded, she'd return.
I will survive. More than that, I'll live.
An inkling of a question lurked at the back of her mind—why wait? Why not now?
Kaage was right; she still had ties here. To an aged general, an orphan boy, a prince with eyes of mist. She wasn't like Shika. She needed to say goodbye.
Kovine could rule the empire as she wanted, unopposed. Maybe, with that fair exchange in mind, she would even tell Minerva what she wanted to know.
Just when Minerva thought she'd perfected her plan, Kaage stumbled through the door. He had a handkerchief pressed to his nose. When he saw her, he stepped nearer to lean in close to her ear. "Do not trust him. I do not think he means you any harm, but I cannot be sure. Meet me back here the night after the tournament ends."
She grabbed his sleeve. "What happened?"
He shook his head and gently pulled away. Looking down at the floor, he asked, "Kozakura, do you ... care for this Hydro?"
"No, of course not," Minerva said without pause. "Why would you think that?"
"You should be safe then." Kaage threw his cloak on and raised the hood, an awkward feat to accomplish with one hand. "Smoke orbs are on the table for you." He rushed away down the stairs, ignoring her calls for him to come back and explain.
Minerva heard the bang of the back door below as the wind blew it shut behind him.
Back in the room, Minerva found Kodak with a bruise on his cheekbone. "What happened?" she demanded.
Kodak's eyes flickered in the lamplight, caught somewhere between concern and anger. "He asked what you were to me. Why I'd involved you in my assignment."
Minerva locked the door. "And? What did you tell him?"
"I told him the truth—that we're business partners. But also ..." Kodak's forehead creased.
"But what?" Minerva advanced with a sure grip on her sword hilt.
"I may have told him who you really are," Kodak whispered, folding in on himself so he no longer towered over her. "I'm sorry."
Minerva's hand dropped. "Is that all?" Kaage might have already guessed. He wouldn't turn her in regardless and he wouldn't tell Shika. She could count on him to keep silent.
Letting out a breath, Kodak sank the rest of the way to sit on the floor. "I thought you'd be ready to stab me considering he punched my face after that."
"Considering you've already been punched, I don't find it necessary to add to the pain," Minerva answered, lowering herself to the ground. "But you did deserve it. If there's one rule to abide by among our kind it's that you can betray yourself, but never your comrades. Never the people who have placed their trust in you. Because" —she flipped her knife open and slid the dull edge along her throat— "your life is forfeit if you do and they're allowed to kill you, no holds barred."
"Eye for an eye and all that? You should have heard ... he had some very ingenious ideas on how he'd kill me if I hurt you, such as turning my rib cage inside out." Kodak gulped.
"That's not bad compared to stuffing your eyeballs into your ears." Minerva stuck her tongue in her cheek while rocking back and forth on her heels.
Kodak's face was starting to swell purple. "That is terrifying. Please tell me he hasn't done that."
"It's on the to-torture list," Minerva said with a straight face.
He eyed her before laughing. "You're joking, aren't you?"
"Somewhat. It's messy. I'm not really fond of taking eyes out of their sockets," Minerva's voice lowered until Kodak had to lean forward to hear her. "We should probably head back." She walked to the table and picked up the box Kaage had left.
"Minerva?"
She half-turned her head.
"I promise I'd never betray you."
"You sound like you've considered it." Minerva drew her sword and leveled the point at his throat. "What if my empire declared war? What then?"
He backed into the wall and she followed every step. The same expression painted his face as when he'd begged her not to die, with the same pleading eyes. "Even then. I'd never want to hurt you."
You won't have the opportunity to. A week more and it was possible she'd never see him again. Her sword arm lowered. "Promises are only made to be broken. Sometimes people hurt even those they love, even if they don't want to."
Kodak's eyes misted. "Maybe you're right."
Minerva slid her sword into her scabbard, picked up her belongings, and unlocked the door. Behind her, she heard Kodak's voice—softer than air, than clouds.
"I do love you, by the way."
Burn me. She pretended not to hear him and pushed through the door. Inside, she felt cold as ice. It all made sense now. The teasing. The charming smiles. Hugging her, calling her beautiful instead of the hanabi. All the signs had been right in front of her face, yet she'd been too stupid to see them. Maybe she hadn't wanted to see them. This couldn't be love, not this freezing dread.
If this was love, then she didn't want Kodak's.
She didn't love him back.