Stus leaned on the door after he closed it behind him and let out a long and silent sigh. He wasn't sure the situation could get much worse. He closed his eyes and sat on the floor, finally alone, finally allowed to let out the turmoil going on inside his head. No one would walk in on him, and if nothing else he was certain the men inside would not come out. He was safe here.
He knew he had not done a great job at hiding his emotions in the room, and he knew that it would make things even worse tomorrow. He was usually good at suppressing his feelings, a skill he had learned the hard way during his Tree Circle training. He still remembered the sting of the wasp venom whenever he let any emotion show, and Gamrec's reprimand was a sharper pain still. Gamrec had left the Tree Circle now, but Stus and Nate owed much of their success to the old man's training. The stern major would have been so disappointed to see his recruit right now.
His plan had been so promising. Nate had been supportive and proud when Stus had agreed to let the Emtehem help them. At first, all had gone well. All the traitors had agreed to meet Stus in the Birch, even Bedwyn. He had lured them in with the promise of reconciliation and an audience with the Wind of Change. He had even divulged the Wind's next plans of a constitution as a token of his good will. He had figured they might meet just beforehand to agree on a plan, and indeed they had all arrived together, a united group. But as soon as they were all inside the main Birch chamber, Stus had dropped all pretence. He had felt confident, then. He knew they were at his mercy and couldn't leave until they gave him the right information. Once the traitors were all seated around the workbench, Stus had stood before them and given his terms for their release: information. He had only hinted at the box -although Bedwyn, like Arawn, knew of its existence, that did not mean he had shared the information with his minors - but had asked about the secrets of the Tree Circle, the ones the Oak Heart had not passed on. And then, to his horror, they had laughed. Laughed! Of course, Bedwyn had started it. He and a middle-aged sylphe had burst out laughing and the others had followed. The woman reminded Stus of a queen bee, the way the others followed her every move.
'You mean to say,' Bedwyn had said once he had been able to speak, wiping a tear from his eye, 'that the Wind of Change doesn't have the tools to control the Tree Circle? Well, that is the best news I have heard all week!'
It was the first hint that Stus's plan was not going to go as smoothly as he had hoped.
'The Wind of Change is none of your concern,' Stus had replied stiffly, but he was worried his retort sounded feeble. Bedwyn's raised eyebrows confirmed it did.
'Well, if that's all this is about, I think I will go,' Bedwyn had said, putting his hands on the workbench to heave himself up. 'As much fun as you are, minor Miles, I have better things to do.'
Stus had let him go. He had not pleaded or tried to hold him back. Even though he had been unnerved by Bedwyn's quick dismissal of Stus's request, the young sylph knew he was still the one in control of the situation.
Bedwyn had sauntered towards the steps carved into the tree, his faded wings spread out behind him like a train. But when his foot had lifted to land on the first step of the stairs, it had slipped and fallen back down to where it had started.
'Oh dear, I must be getting old if stairs are starting to defeat me. Doesn't say much about you, does it, minor Miles?'
The others had laughed at their major's brazenness, but when Bedwyn had failed to step onto the stairs a second time, then again, and again, the gloating had faded away, one man after the other, until none were smiling. The silence was a particularly sweet sound to Stus, then. Some traitors had rushed to the stairs to check for themselves while others stared, dumbstruck, while Bedwyn roared and grabbed Stus by the collar of his Rosewood uniform.
'What trick is this?' he had yelled into Stus's face, spit landing on the young man's face. Stus had never imagined Bedwyn would react so violently, but he had not wiped the spit away, enduring disgust and indignation.
'No need, Bedwyn,' the queen bee said. Her voice was the opposite of the old man's: sweet, seductive and soft. It reminded Stus of Summer, and that was enough to stir in his insides an instant dislike for the sylphe. 'Whatever charm he's put on there, there's more than enough of us to break it.'
Bedwyn let go so abruptly that Stus jerked backwards and almost stepped on his wings. Bedwyn's smirked at Stus's clumsiness before turning away dismissively.
The rebels all put their palms facing their bodies, withdrawing inwards to gather the strength to break the spell. It left Stus just enough time to pull himself together and get a handle on the situation.
'It's no use,' he said, but his voice sounding choked. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'The spell on there is too powerful. And it's no use turning on me, either. No one will come looking for you. I'm your only way out, so you'd be advised to change your attitude.'
Of course, they tried anyway, but they could not hide the confusion in their faces when they failed. They shared glances, and the more inexperienced sylphs crowded around their majors for reassurance. Whispers broke out, and Stus could tell from the minuscule shivers running along Bedwyn's scales that he was rattled, though he tried to conceal it.
But Bedwyn was not one to be moved so easily. Instead of giving in, he shrugged, flipping his wings back and forth, and smiled.
'Fine! A little rest won't hurt us. It's comfortable enough in here.'
And he settled into one of the moss armchairs by the bookshelves and closed his eyes, wrapping his wings about himself as his chest rose and fell with each breath. If Stus had not known better, he could have sworn the man had dozed off. Following suit, the others settled in for the wait, ignoring Stus and leaving him standing there in the middle of the room. They were doing the opposite of what he expected, and he felt wrong-footed at every turn.
Stus had left them to it. He could not think of anything else to do. He had never felt so powerless, unable to know what to do next.
And now, now that he was out of the room, a wave of shame washed over him. He had never imagined that they would resist him. He had never considered they might not give answers. On one of the few occasions where he had witnessed Seekers interrogating a suspect in some crime or other, the poor fool had burst into tears within a few heartbeats. Even a young sylph who had appeared cocksure and denied everything at first eventually got muddled up in his arguments and fell prey to the Seekers' probing methods. But Stus was not a Seeker, he had told Nate as much and it was now pretty obvious. He wished he could get a Seeker involved, but he knew he couldn't even before the thought was fully formed in his mind. No outsider of the Tree Circle would tolerate its existence, its members spellbound so that they could never reveal information about the Tree Circle. Indeed, the price to pay for revealing its existence was life itself.
He wondered how the Emtehem had come to know of the Tree Circle. Now there was a man with enough presence to make a rebel talk. Perhaps... no. Stus dismissed the idea instantly. He couldn't risk the traitors knowing of the sorcerer's involvement - there was too much at stake. The young man sighed. Well, there was nothing more to be gained this dusk, he supposed. He ought to find breakfast before going work. These unrepentant murderers would at least go hungry today. For a brief moment, Stus wondered if he should bring them some food - water they could summon from a nearby underground stream, or from the tree sap at the very least, but they would need nourishment.
Stus walked away before he had time to change his mind. He had no desire to be their servant and a little fast wouldn't hurt them.
At dawn, after his Guardia duty, Stus went to the Willow Ring, partly to check on his minors and partly to avoid going back to the Birch. Only Perth and Linsell were inside the secret chamber when Stus walked in, and he seemed to have interrupted an important conversation.
The minors hastened to straighten up and touched their lips in greeting. Stus returned the gesture.
'Thank the spirits you are here, Major Miles,' Linsell said. Her voice was steady but her wings were erect.
'I'm sorry for my prolonged absence. I wanted to see how the Ring was doing.'
'In all honesty, Major, things have been difficult,' Perth replied. He hesitated and glanced at his comrade for reassurance before continuing. 'After you warned us you were very busy with a special mission from the Wind Chimes, Major Owens contacted Comrade Earle and told her we would be getting orders from him in your absence.'
'And we did, at first,' Linsell added. 'After the beetle incident, we were involved in brewing potions and lending enchantments to bind the beetless back. The production of cakes was only marginally slowed, and we last heard form the Ebonys we posted there it has gone back to normal.'
'And for this you both have my thanks,' Stus added. 'Faerie will sleep better today because of your work.'
'You honour us, Major Miles,' Linsell said. 'But I'm afraid this is where the good news end. We have not heard from Major Owens since then, and without his token we have no way of contacting him.'
'The Ring has been dead for a whole day,' Perth continued. 'And our minors are growing concerned. We know there is much to do. We have posted Ebonys around the city and planted some in the regents' office, so we are getting word of problems, but that is all we have managed to do.'
Both minors looked at Stus for a solution, their faces marred by worry and expectation, and so he paused to give the woman's words consideration - he found this made his minors feel valued.
'Why didn't you tell me?' Stus asked calmly.
Linsell and Perth looked at each other again. Once more it was Perth who spoke first.
'Major Owens had made it very clear we were not to contact you, for fear of disturbing your Great Work.'
Stus smiled to hide the confusion from his face. Nate had told Stus's minors not to contact him? 'Of course, but know you can always count on me to support you should you need it. I will also ask Major Owens for a token, so you can contact him. You have done the right thing using our resources to gather more information, and I am sure Major Owens will recognise your contribution. As for what work you can do now, I suggest using the free time to train your minors and concentrate on crowd control. There will be many disruptions in the coming days, and Faerie will need help to hysteria. Potions, spells, see what you can do. Some soothing drops in all the cakes of Faerie would not go amiss.
Both nodded eagerly.
'Is there anything else you have heard of which you think requires our attention?'
'Comrade Earle mentioned that regents are planning new laws to strengthen Meuriaden's hold on us,' Linsell said. 'But from what she heard, the truth is more complicated than that. Should we spread an alternative story on the Grapevine?'
Stus weighed all the options before answering, trying not to let his personal beliefs interfere. Still, he would not be the one to let Faerie become more dependent on Meuriaden.
'No,' Stus answered. 'It might be that we would be playing in the regents' hands by spreading rumours. Let's see what truths come out first.'
Both minors nodded again. They continued reporting in more detail about the various news they had gathered, but before long Stus had to take his leave. He felt as he usually did within the Tree Circle: useful in his purpose. Nothing could have made him more confident for the work ahead.
Still, he was tense as he walked down the steep staircase from the Birch Ring's secret passage. A narrow corridor dug into the tree led to the main door, from which a short flight of steps descended into the hall. It was those steps the Emtehem had enchanted so that only Stus could pass through. Stus stared at the door, his hand hovering above the handle. His heart hammered in his chest. He hoped that the lack of food would have made the prisoners more docile, or break their rebellious mood. Stus had even dared hope that the minors would have pleaded with Bedwyn to yield, but he feared the worst. He shook his head. How could they submit to his will when he was already defeated? He needed to be firmer. He needed to believe in himself, just like Nate. Stus took a few deep breaths, tensed his shoulder and back muscles to fan out his wings in a show of confidence, and pushed down on the handle.
The scene awaiting Stus inside was one of peaceful studiousness. He was thoroughly disappointed.
Bedwyn was nestled in one of the mossy armchairs, reading a book, while a group of sylphes sat at the workbench, talking quietly over a large volume open in front of them. Bedwyn's second-in-command Eirene Bellara was amongst them. Stus recognised the book - it was one of the priceless dragonfly leather-bound books on elemental summons. He was beginning to recognise some of the traitors by their faces and wings, though he could not always put names to them. All Nate had given him about the conspirators was their names and their rank - they were all Rosewood or above, which meant the conspiracy had been contained to the higher Rings. The Tree Circle's historical secrecy meant that only Bedwyn knew those in his branch, and so the Wind Chimes had been little help. Nate and Arawn knew Eirene Bellara, the queen bee, from her time in Arawn's branch. Nate described her as venomous. Marec had moved her to Bedwyn's branch, probably to keep his allies together, and so Arawn and Nate had not had any contact with her since. There was also Raiden Sage, who had joined the renegades even though he was one of Garin's Rosewoods. Stus knew little of him other than Garin's complaints about the man's brashness.
Cynon, the Wind Chimes' other adviser, came from Bedwyn's branch so he had also given some tips. Bedwyn was proud and inflexible, so it would be difficult to get him to do anything he didn't want to do - that much Stus had already figured out. Cynon also reported a lot of tension in Bedwyn's branch between those faithful to him and those who agreed with the Wind of Change. Any dissent was violently quelled, which made him rather unpopular. Bellara had been revered by her Rosewood minors, so it was no surprise they had all taken part in the uprising. So had Gully Nash, a woman with the stocky build of a gnome but actually taller than her male comrades. She was one of Cynon's, who was disappointed in his minor, but he knew she had been on particularly good terms with Bedwyn; he often gave her special work. Cynon's last advice had been to be wary of Caradog, the other Mahogany. 'A two-faced devil' had been Cynon's words, not a man to use insults lightly. Other than that, Stus would have to get to know the traitors on his own.
Two Rosewood men - it would have to be Begbie and Duff, but which was which? - and Caradog, whom Stus recognised from his Mahogany uniform, were lying down on mattresses they had made by ripping the white carnation petal drapes over the doors. Dandelion fluff spilled out from under the petals, which Stus suspected came from the combat chamber, as they were used to stuff leafs padding for combat practice. Stus tried to ignore his anger that they held such little regard for Tree Circle property.
Stus had plenty of time to take it all in, to observe the prisoners and study their faces, for no one even batted a wing at his entrance. It was as though he was transparent, and for a while, as he stood there at the top of the steps, watching, Stus wondered, hoped even, that the Emtehem's spell had misfired and had made him invisible.
Then a man came out from one of the round doors leading to the stock chambers. 'Still no food today, innkeeper?' he exclaimed. Stus's heart rattled in his chest.
Receding hair and his distended stomach indicated the man had been a long-time appreciator of fine cakes and hydromel. For all that, he carried himself as though he was a gift to women, the kind of confidence Nate deservedly shared and which Stus envied. This left Stus with no doubt as to the identity of the man: Raiden Sage, the deserter, Bedwyn's golden boy, as golden as his hair and wings. Fitting.
'What business do you have in the stock chambers, Sage?' Stus demanded, in what he hoped was a threatening tone.
'Ah! Well I had personal business, you see,' the man said, strutting towards Stus, his tawny wings unfolding behind him, as though stretching. 'So thoughtful of you so have left so many pans for us to relieve ourselves. Though I have to say, the smell is starting to be rather unpleasant. Would you mind emptying the pots before you go?'
What nerve! Stus almost lost it then. But of course, that was exactly what they wanted. To see him angry and upset, to lose control. They had all turned their heads to watch the exchange, except Bedwyn who feigned indifference and continued reading. Instead Stus kept a lid on his anger. 'I would have thought you'd enjoy it, Sage. The smell of treason.'
'Treason?' Sage laughed, flicking a stray curl of honey-coloured hair away from his eyes. 'Bold of you to speak of treason! I don't recall being the one planning to take over the Tree Circle.'
Caradog guffawed and others goaded him on as well - the monstrous Gully laughed the hardest. Stus's nature was to reason with them, tell them that the Wind Chimes had been chosen by the people at the gathering. But he knew it had to be him leading the conversation, asking the questions.
'Do you deny starting a fire that claimed the life of Laurel Garin? Your major, to whom you vowed obedience.'
Sage gestured with one hand as a major would to a young student. 'I remember very well that it was Garin who turned against the Oak Heart. But what makes you think we started the fire? Is that what your best friend told you?'
Stus was lost for words, but hoped his silence would pass as contempt for Sage's teasing. The sylph was watching him, baiting him to respond with feigned innocence. Ignoring the man altogether might be a better plan; at least Stus now had everybody's attention. 'If anyone is interested in dinner,' he said, 'you might consider answering some of my questions.'
Not taking his eyes off his book, Bedwyn snorted derisively. 'It will take more than that to break us,' he said, his deep voice resonating around the chamber. 'Besides, we don't know what you're talking about.'
'Don't you?' Stus said. 'I'm talking about the knowledge of the Tree Circle.'
Bedwyn did not reply. He looked as though he was lost deep in thought, reading his book and had never taken part in the conversation.
'Yes, you've mentioned that, minor,' Bellara replied after a while, and she turned her back on him, pouring over the book on the workbench.
That was the last he got out of them that night. One by one, the other minors resumed their activities and Raiden Sage joined the sylphes at the table, leaving Stus to stand alone and ignored in the middle of the room once more. But this time he wouldn't leave without a fight.
'You don't want to tell me anything,' Stus stated as though he really didn't mind. 'Fine. I'll talk then. I'll tell you what I think.' Caradog opened his mouth to retort something clever, but Stus was quicker. 'I think you felt like you had lost the Tree Circle when you realised that all the other rings were in favour of the Wind of Change and democracy, and so you acted desperately. The Tree Circle had voted against you and you had nothing else to lose.'
'The Circle does not choose because it is not worthy of it,' Bedwyn roared, 'or have you forgotten the very basic foundations of the organisation you claim to rule, Minor? The gathering at the Ebony was a disgrace to all that we represent.'
Bedwyn's voice was mocking and made the glass vials on the workbench tremble, but Stus smiled. He had finally gotten Bedwyn to talk. Stus had hit a nerve.
'And what are the secrets of the Tree Circle without its members to accomplish its deed?' Stus continued.
But this time, to his dismay, the prisoners laughed. The sound grated terribly on Stus's nerves. Why did they always laugh? And how did they know to always laugh at the same time?
'What would you know about the Great Work, minor?' Bedwyn scoffed.
'Well I'll tell you what I don't know,' Stus said, willing his voice not to tremble. 'I don't know where the box containing the secret of the Oak Heart is, and I don't know who has it. And I would really like to know. So unless you want to starve to death, you'd better start giving me some straight answers.'
First there was silence. Then the answer came.
'You can keep your food, Minor,' Caradog spat.
Stus was shaking when he climbed out of the chamber and the sharp pain between his shoulders was making his back and his wings stiff. He didn't know what else to do. Nothing he said or did seemed to shake them into obedience. And why should it? Who was he to them? They were all Rosewood like him, or his majors, and none of them, not even Raiden, had worked with Stus and witnessed his worth. They hadn't been there when he had climbed the rings. His authority with his minors, Stus had earned it fair and square by making the right choices and doing his work well. He did not know how to impose himself. He didn't have witty retorts to their taunts. He didn't have charisma and there was no way he was going to get them to talk. Not on his own, anyway.