Even with our newest and particularly interesting guests, life in the kingdom progresses as usual. Dizzi begins to sleep through the days as she helps Kanin with his spell circle at night, reporting her progress back to me each morning before she crashes in her workshop. Kanin, who doesn’t need to sleep, shows no indication that he’s planning a heavenly heist in the higher levels of the Drifting Isles. Instead, he explores the city, offers help where he can, and all around pretends to be a model guest for Aquenno.

  I’m somewhat envious of his acting skills.

  Even without helping him to prepare to free the other Travelers, I’ve a thousand more things to be worrying over. I’m confident the city’s defense systems will work for the gods, but now that I know there are champions like Aquenno who are of mortal age, how can I prevent them from infiltrating the city on their god’s behalf? The current criteria that the barrier is based on is age. If champions are indistinguishable from other mortals, what else can I use to filter them out?

  I don’t have an answer yet, and that concerns me. I need to be ready to defend this city once Kanin enacts his plan. Otherwise, if I can’t guarantee the Fyrethians’ safety, I’m not sure I can in good conscience allow him to go forward with the heist at all.

  “Fyre?” Nek prompts.

  My eyes refocus on the cloudy sky before me. We’re seated outside on one of the palace’s pavilions, an array of scrolls and slates spread over the table between us.

  “I was asking about the curriculum,” he says in response to my (undoubtably) blank look. “Are you certain mathematics should be a required course? It doesn’t seem as practical as language.”

  “Absolutely,” I reply immediately. “Especially as we become more entwined with the world economy. Basic mathematics, at a minimum, will be crucial.”

  Nek wrinkles his nose at this, but doesn’t fight it. “And all these language classes…”

  “We’re going to be dealing with most world powers on a regular basis, given our mobility,” I say. “We need a foundation in the three major world languages.” Those languages being Common Dunmorish, which is what Fyrethians already speak, Valenian, the spoken language used on the world’s other major continent, and Common Signs, a widespread international sign language popularized by lamia as they became a seafaring species and spread throughout most of the world’s equatorial region. Of course there are dozens of other regional languages, especially in Dunmora, but this foundation should get us far.

  Nek sighs. “The kids will be in classes most of the day at this rate.”

  “That’s the idea,” I say with a grin. “And don’t forget world history will also be required.”

  The Fyrethians don’t have a formal education system, given most of their time prior to the Fortress’s ascension had been spent in survival mode. Luckily, they managed to retain knowledge of their alphabet in the few hundred years spent underground, using slate and chalk for writing—mostly to keep strict inventories of supplies, but it at least means we’re not starting from zero.

  Now that our city is beginning to prosper, however, I decided it was high time to ensure Ollie had a proper education—along with all the other Fyrethian youth, of course. Ollie was none too pleased by this proposal, though his tune changed quite rapidly once he learned magic would be one of the required classes.

  I don’t want to overload the kids. It’s a big change going from no formal education to required weekly classes. But right now we’re limiting it to simply mathematics, language, history, and magic. I’m eager to expand the curriculum into arts and tradework as well, but that’s getting a bit ahead of myself.

  “I don’t think we have anyone with enough expertise to teach world history,” Nek says.

  “We can start with Fyrethian history,” I suggest. “I’m sure we have plenty who would be more than happy to volunteer for that. But we don’t have to find teachers within our own ranks, you know. We’ll almost certainly need to hire someone to help with Common Signs and Valenian. I’m more than happy to cover mathematics myself."

  We hardly have enough kids to fill one school, anyway, so one teacher per subject will be more than sufficient at this time.

  Nek snorts. “You, teach math? With what time, exactly?”

  I laugh lightly. “Fair point.” A guard near the balcony’s entrance catches my eye, and I nod to them so they know I’ve seen. “Well, once you’ve compiled a list of potential teachers, we can revisit the discussion. Is everything else going well?”

  Nek begins to gather up a few of his scrolls. “Always some problem to be fixing.” Isn’t that the truth? He looks up at me with a grin, revealing his cat-like fangs. “But these are the good sort of problems to be having, not worrying over food and warmth.” His eyes soften. “I’m not sure Jen and Toris understand what a different life they will be growing up into.”

  His two children are a couple years younger than Ollie; I wonder if they will remember the caves at all by the time they reach adulthood.

  “That’s what school will be for,” I say. “To give them the context to understand where they came from.”

  “And ensure we never go back,” Nek agrees with a rumbling sigh. He stands up, giving me a tired smile. “Don’t work too hard, now. Even you need to rest.”

  “Not by choice,” I say with a teasing wink.

  As Nek leaves, I take a moment to grab a few hasty bites of blueseed fruit, which had been laid out on a plate and promptly forgotten the moment Nek and I had started to work. The guard at the terrace entrance returns, and Zyneth steps out onto the balcony.

  “You wished to see me, Your Majesty?” he asks, hands clasped respectfully behind his back.

  I watch the formalities with amusement and beckon him over to sit with me. “Please, just Fyre. I don’t feel worthy of such titles.”

  The cambion crosses the landing and takes a seat in the chair Nek had previously been occupying. “That makes you more worthy of it than most.”

  I chuckle lightly. “Now you’re just flattering me.”

  “No, My Lo—Fyre,” he corrects himself. “I’ve merely seen enough royalty to know the difference.”

  Not for the first time, I wonder about the remark Shirasil had made in reference to Zyneth being a runaway prince. It’s admittedly eating me up with curiosity, but it feels a bit rude to pry.

  “Are you enjoying your stay?” I ask him. It’s only been a week, but I’ve been too caught up in other work about the city to meet with him and Kanin daily. And I’ve not yet had a chance to speak with Zyneth privately at all.

  He smiles faintly. “It’s been quiet—relaxing. A welcome change of pace from the excitement Kanin typically gets us into.”

  I chuckle. “I can imagine.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Though it’s difficult to tell with the faint yellow glow of cambion eyes, his gaze seems to fall over the papers that are spread across the table before me.

  “Forgive me for assuming,” Zyneth says, “but I suspect you didn’t invite me here merely for pleasantries.”

  “True enough,” I admit with a sigh. Well, the break was nice while it lasted. “I wanted to speak with you about the gods.”

  Zyneth blinks, cocking one of his eyebrows. “This isn’t about your wife?”

  “My—” I choke on the word as nervous laughter bubbles out of me. “Mirzayael? She’s not my—I mean, politically, I suppose we’re partners, but—well, it’s still somewhat in the works—”

  Zyneth appears to be holding back a laugh. “My apologies. Though I must admit it doesn’t seem to be a partnership of mere convenience.”

  “It’s not!” I object. “We’re just… still courting…” I resist the urge to massage the rising heat out of my cheeks. If I have one complaint about this body, it’s that this one is far more blush-prone than my human one had been.

  Zyneth finally chuckles. “Are all Travelers so shy with their relationships?”

  I’m not sure how to respond to that.

  He shakes his head, waving a hand as if to dismiss his previous question. “Sorry. Something I’ve noticed with Kanin as well—but that’s irrelevant. If this meeting isn’t about Lord Mirzayael scheduling a rematch, then I’m more than happy to assist however I can.”

  Still a little flustered, I try to refocus my thoughts on the original planned topic of today’s discussion—easier said than done with the distraction Zyneth provided. Am I moving too slowly for Fyrethian standards? It’s only been half a year, but…

  “The gods,” I say, dragging my attention back. “Fyrethains aren’t as familiar with their history as most of the world is. I wanted to get your perspective on them.”

  “I see.” Zyneth sits back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I assume you also have the System resources Kanin does?”

  “I do,” I confirm. Probably he wants to know why I don’t simply ask Echo to tell me everything about the gods. And to be fair, I already have. “But I’d like to hear opinions on the matter rather than dry facts.” I hold out a hand.

  He gives it a considering look, then reaches across to place his palm within my own.

  [Psionic Touch activated.]

  “With Aquenno around, I can’t be too careful,” I explain.

  “From what I’ve observed, I don’t think he is a threat,” Zyneth mentally replies, as easily as if this were any other conventional way of holding a conversation. “However, even with your claim that you have a way of keeping an eye out for the gods, I believe this method of speaking is a wise precaution.”

  His mind is so much more steady than Kanin’s. Then again, Zyneth doesn’t have a willful remnant knocking around in his head.

  “In light of Shirasil’s visit and Kanin’s plan, I believe we need to secure more divine allies,” I tell Zyneth. “I’ve done as much research on the pantheon as I can manage, but I need insight from someone familiar with the gods and their dynamics.”

  Zyneth responds with faint surprise. “I’ve gathered that your people don’t think highly of the pantheon.”

  “Yes,” I hesitantly agree. “I’m not sure what you know of the Fyrethians’ history. But our people were nearly wiped out by Lorata for a remnant they wielded hundreds of years ago.” The very same remnant I now wield, though I don’t feel it prudent to get into that at this moment. “There is still a lot of bitterness there, and I can’t blame them for it. But Blair has shown me there are gods who don’t want to repeat past wrongs, and if this is true, then we need every ally we can get.”

  Zynet’s surprise turns to intrigue. “You think you can win over other deities to your cause?”

  “It’s worth a try,” I admit. “Blair and Shirasil both already seemed to be aligned with us, though without more support they won’t risk revealing their stance publically.”

  Zyneth nods along to this. “Kanin has been hoping to encounter the same ever since we met Blair. In fact, we compiled a list of deities who we think might be allies to Travelers.”

  I brighten. “You have? That would be exceptionally helpful.”

  “Of course,” Zyneth says. “Though I can really only say one name on that list is all but certain.”

  All but certain is more than I ever could have hoped for—even if it’s only one god. “Who?”

  “Yua Tin,” he says. “The god of starlight and navigation. Aquenno let slip they’re no threat to us when Kanin and I attended one of their God’s Tournaments.”

  “Oh!” I know that name. “One of Yua Tin’s champions visited us a few months ago.” I check with Echo to remind me. “A cambion named Zetaru.”

  Zyneth raises a thoughtful eyebrow. “That’s who we ran into at the Gods’ Tournament as well. What did she do while she was here?”

  “Nothing,” I admit. “She was just exploring the Fortress. She indicated she knew Shirasil had visited and was interested in what he had said to us. The encounter was a little tense, but I suppose she left feeling satisfied, as no other champions—to our knowledge—have visited since then. Yua Tin must have kept our city a secret.”

  “Interesting,” Zyneth muses. “Yua Tin and Shirasil have had a mixed past—though you could say that about Shirasil and all the gods, I suppose. He’s temperamental like that. But he and Yua Tin are known to have been friendly in the past. I do think they are the most likely god to help your cause.”

  This is good news. One god isn’t a lot, but it’s a start. Is there a way I can reach out to them? I wonder if I could ask Shirasil or Blair to introduce us.

  Of course, Mirzayael will be opposed to this. I don’t want to go behind her back—especially where the pantheon is concerned. But if our city truly is as exposed as I fear, then we’ll need a backup plan. We can’t risk the city’s future for the sake of pride.

  “You’re worried about Kanin’s plan,” Zyneth abruptly says. “It will put your city at risk.”

  I startle, wondering just how many of my thoughts I’d let slip through the link. Double checking our connection, however, I find my mental walls are still securely in place. Perhaps he’s simply that perceptive.

  “I am worried,” I admit. “What Lisari told us changes things.”

  “He won’t do it, you know,” Zyneth says. “If you ask him not to, he won’t put your city in danger. He’ll distance himself, first. Make sure you’re not involved.”

  Yet, the reassurance fills me with guilt. If Kanin did proceed with his plan and managed to free the Travelers, only thousands of miles away, what then? Would they be sitting ducks, exposed and ready to be re-captured? I desperately want to help them—but I have my people to worry about as well. How can I choose between the two?

  Maybe I won’t have to. Maybe I’ll find a way to ensure the barrier keeps out champions as well as gods. After all, the gods will be an eventual and inevitable problem even without Kanin antagonizing them. His plan will just significantly expedite our timeline for finding a solution.

  None of these thoughts are productive.

  “Tell me about other gods,” I say, trying to stay on task. This is one thing I can control, at least. “Other ones who you think may be sympathetic to our cause.”

  “Of course,” Zyneth agrees. “You might want to take notes. There is quite a lot of ground to cover.”

  I eagerly pull a slate over. “It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to take notes!” Taking notes in Echo’s interface might leave no trace, but with discussing gods, I don’t entirely trust the privacy of information stored there.

  Zyneth laughs. “You seem far too excited about that.”

  “I’m a student of the world.”

  Zyneth’s mind dances with amusement, and for a moment I think I catch a whiff of deep respect.

  Then we get to work.

  Discord

  Patreon

  SPFBO :O