The
sand that hit him was not sharp; in fact, each blunt impact spread more and
more of the grains over his skin. Oddriser’s surprise quickly became
understanding. Surely, Counsel had guessed that another volley of blades would
do little good if he allowed Oddriser to perform self-separation, in whole or
part. Now that the Selector had been immobilized, effectively petrified by
layers of sand, the lethal blow —a final set of sharpened sand-swords— could be delivered. He waited.
It
never came. The sand fell away in clods at first, then streams, until Oddriser
found himself merely dusty, the majority of the dirt pooling harmless at his
feet. Immediately before him, Counsel stood.
“There
is nothing more to be gained here,” Counsel announced. The crowd shivered with
whispers of shock and indignation. Counsel lifted his good hand and silenced
them. “I have bested Oddriser in single
combat, and as such, his life is mine to end.” The crowd roared. Counsel let
them for a perfect second or so, and then glanced to Oddriser as he continued
speaking. “Or, to spare.”
The once pure and wild cheering muddled with murmurs of confusion, indignation; Oddriser definitely heard some calls for his head, amidst the others basking in the ‘victory’ of their champion.
“I choose life,” Counsel finished.
The groans and angry cries further punctuated the desert air, but Counsel silenced these as well. “Oddriser and I agreed that this would settle things between our people, regardless of outcome. My good Collaborators, do not stain our honor by defying that to which we agreed.” He shuffled to the edge of the arena, where some of the Collaborators helped him down.
Oddriser watched all of this in silence; he glanced to his Cagneidu, who appeared just as surprised. To Counsel, Oddriser called “That’s it then?”
Counsel turned back to the Selector, held his eyes for a moment, and then turned away. “My men cannot move the blocks until you descend, Oddriser.”
The once pure and wild cheering muddled with murmurs of confusion, indignation; Oddriser definitely heard some calls for his head, amidst the others basking in the ‘victory’ of their champion.
“I choose life,” Counsel finished.
The groans and angry cries further punctuated the desert air, but Counsel silenced these as well. “Oddriser and I agreed that this would settle things between our people, regardless of outcome. My good Collaborators, do not stain our honor by defying that to which we agreed.” He shuffled to the edge of the arena, where some of the Collaborators helped him down.
Oddriser watched all of this in silence; he glanced to his Cagneidu, who appeared just as surprised. To Counsel, Oddriser called “That’s it then?”
Counsel turned back to the Selector, held his eyes for a moment, and then turned away. “My men cannot move the blocks until you descend, Oddriser.”
***
The
third of his conditions had been well met. Thinking about it, Oddriser realized that it did not
matter, for he had one more piece of business that would thoroughly invalidate
that mercy. As he watched the workers strip the canvas from the blocks and
prepare to haul them away, he thought to offer assistance yet again— and then
thought the better of it, considering the remainder of the crowd. No doubt
to them, the best he could offer was his head, cleanly(and permanently)
separated from his shoulders. This was not a gift he was willing to give.
As such, he stood silent in the desert, ignoring Counsel, ignoring the Collaborator eyes upon him, ignoring the workers, who had begun the arduous task of moving the stones. That left him Cagneidu; the least of the evils. The look on his brother’s face indicated that he had formulated a similar assessment; however, his plans differed.
“We shall depart at once,” he said. “While the Collaborators tend to their own.”
“I cannot,” Oddriser replied. “I have business in the First City.”
“What business remains in the Collaborator stronghold for you that does not involve the parting of your body?”
“What indeed,” Oddriser mused with a wry grin.
“Brothers Pelomect!” Counsel called. “You are welcome to return to the First City. We offer you a day’s worth of respite before your journey homeward.” Looking at his face, listening to his voice, one would not know that he had nearly fought to the death mere moments ago.
“There you have it,” Oddriser assured his brother. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his garments and began walking toward the city.
As such, he stood silent in the desert, ignoring Counsel, ignoring the Collaborator eyes upon him, ignoring the workers, who had begun the arduous task of moving the stones. That left him Cagneidu; the least of the evils. The look on his brother’s face indicated that he had formulated a similar assessment; however, his plans differed.
“We shall depart at once,” he said. “While the Collaborators tend to their own.”
“I cannot,” Oddriser replied. “I have business in the First City.”
“What business remains in the Collaborator stronghold for you that does not involve the parting of your body?”
“What indeed,” Oddriser mused with a wry grin.
“Brothers Pelomect!” Counsel called. “You are welcome to return to the First City. We offer you a day’s worth of respite before your journey homeward.” Looking at his face, listening to his voice, one would not know that he had nearly fought to the death mere moments ago.
“There you have it,” Oddriser assured his brother. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his garments and began walking toward the city.
***
Cagneidu
did not think it wise to return to the city, but his brother’s choices had left
him with very few of his own. He accompanied his brother, and the pair of them
saw Counsel to the First City’s infirmary; the guard accepted their own, of
course, and Cagneidu readily enough, but the halberds crossed firmly before
Oddriser. Cagneidu paused, and Counsel
stopped as well.
“Guards—” Counsel began.
“See to our cousin, Brother,” Oddriser interrupted. “I shall see myself to the prison,” He turned on his heel and sauntered off the way a drunk might, down the road and singing to himself.
“Brother!” Cagneidu called.
Oddriser kept walking, waving his brother off. Cagneidu sighed.
“He will come to no harm,” Counsel assured the Selector.
“Will he do no harm?” Cagneidu wondered aloud; a glance to his friend’s arm brought him focus. “I apologize. Let us tend to your wounds.”
They proceeded originally toward a room deep within the facility, but Counsel declined the more secure stations therein, opting instead for a common chamber. Those in the halls did not care for the Selector in their midst, but Cagneidu, at Counsel’s insistence, was allowed to accompany the Collaborator into the room he had chosen. Cagneidu set himself to strolling back and forth on the far side of the space by the window while the medics tended to Counsel’s various injuries. This occurred in silence for a time.
Finally, Cagneidu halted in his pacing. “You spared my brother’s life today,” he told Counsel, bowing deep. “And you did such in spite of the wrongs he committed against you and your people. For this kindness, I thank you.”
Counsel looked up from the progress on his arm and smiled. “Perhaps it is I who should be thanking you, Cagneidu. I am of the mind that some of your temperance has begun to rub off on your brother.”
“Perhaps so,” Cagneidu replied. “Nonetheless, he has a long way to go- a path that you could have cut short, had you wished.”
“And yet you know that I would never wish such,” Counsel reminded him. “And even if I had, it is not so simple.” The warmth had left his eyes, his stare frigid in spite of the late day sweltering air. “I am thoroughly aware that Lord Pelomect Oddriser could have slain me.”
Cagneidu looked away, out the window, but only for a moment. “I forbade the use of his most dangerous ability.”
“I suspected that was the case. Why would you hamstring your own brother?”
“The loss of life in a duel no one truly wanted would serve no purpose.”
“And, assuming a life had to be sacrificed, you would preserve mine over that of Oddriser’s?”
“Under the circumstances we have found ourselves in, I would not hesitate to make such a call.”
Counsel nodded. “Fortunate for me, I suppose.”
“Guards—” Counsel began.
“See to our cousin, Brother,” Oddriser interrupted. “I shall see myself to the prison,” He turned on his heel and sauntered off the way a drunk might, down the road and singing to himself.
“Brother!” Cagneidu called.
Oddriser kept walking, waving his brother off. Cagneidu sighed.
“He will come to no harm,” Counsel assured the Selector.
“Will he do no harm?” Cagneidu wondered aloud; a glance to his friend’s arm brought him focus. “I apologize. Let us tend to your wounds.”
They proceeded originally toward a room deep within the facility, but Counsel declined the more secure stations therein, opting instead for a common chamber. Those in the halls did not care for the Selector in their midst, but Cagneidu, at Counsel’s insistence, was allowed to accompany the Collaborator into the room he had chosen. Cagneidu set himself to strolling back and forth on the far side of the space by the window while the medics tended to Counsel’s various injuries. This occurred in silence for a time.
Finally, Cagneidu halted in his pacing. “You spared my brother’s life today,” he told Counsel, bowing deep. “And you did such in spite of the wrongs he committed against you and your people. For this kindness, I thank you.”
Counsel looked up from the progress on his arm and smiled. “Perhaps it is I who should be thanking you, Cagneidu. I am of the mind that some of your temperance has begun to rub off on your brother.”
“Perhaps so,” Cagneidu replied. “Nonetheless, he has a long way to go- a path that you could have cut short, had you wished.”
“And yet you know that I would never wish such,” Counsel reminded him. “And even if I had, it is not so simple.” The warmth had left his eyes, his stare frigid in spite of the late day sweltering air. “I am thoroughly aware that Lord Pelomect Oddriser could have slain me.”
Cagneidu looked away, out the window, but only for a moment. “I forbade the use of his most dangerous ability.”
“I suspected that was the case. Why would you hamstring your own brother?”
“The loss of life in a duel no one truly wanted would serve no purpose.”
“And, assuming a life had to be sacrificed, you would preserve mine over that of Oddriser’s?”
“Under the circumstances we have found ourselves in, I would not hesitate to make such a call.”
Counsel nodded. “Fortunate for me, I suppose.”
A
lack of Oddriser’s interference upon Counsel allowed the Collaborator’s ability
to expedite his recovery; as such, the medics managed to make the wrapping
Counsel’s mangled arm a relatively quick process. Now, they slung it across his
chest, and as soon as they did, he pulled himself from the cot.
“My thanks,” he told them.
“Lord Counsel, you should rest—” the first began.
“You musn’t overtax your body,” the second added.
“I am fine,” he assured them. “I must speak to Ewstob and give him an account of all that has occurred.” He glanced to Cagneidu. “Thank you for seeing this through. As I said earlier, you and your brother are welcome to remain here for another day, but I implore you move on by then for your own safety.”
“My thanks,” he told them.
“Lord Counsel, you should rest—” the first began.
“You musn’t overtax your body,” the second added.
“I am fine,” he assured them. “I must speak to Ewstob and give him an account of all that has occurred.” He glanced to Cagneidu. “Thank you for seeing this through. As I said earlier, you and your brother are welcome to remain here for another day, but I implore you move on by then for your own safety.”
***
It
was easy to determine the cell in which Oddriser resided; none of the others
within the prison had armed guards posted outside the chamber. Cagneidu was not
sure of whose protection they had been placed for. They cast him almost neutral
gazes, if a little cold, or perhaps almost cold gazes, were it not for the
neutrality. Whatever their sentiments, they moved off some distance when he
asked for privacy, and they did so without comment.
“Brother,” Cagneidu said again. “We should depart immediately.”
“What’s your hurry, Cagneidu?” Oddriser’s voice came muffled beyond the stone door. “You have heard Counsel. We have been invited to stay a day’s time.”
Cagneidu spied the Collaborators, spied them spying him and his brother. “Not all that is offered is offered freely.”
Oddriser followed his brother’s eyes with his own, and though he could not see through the wall of his cell, he addressed his brother with feigned wonder, confusion. “You and Counsel are friends.”
“And thus I shall not impose upon him if it can be avoided. Especially given current circumstances.”
“Well, no one is keeping you here, Brother.”
“You are.”
“Well then, by my leave, you are welcome to depart at any time of your choosing, dear Brother,” Oddriser assured him.
“I think not,” Cagneidu disagreed. “This ordeal has shown me that I cannot leave you alone with Collaborators—for their safety, and your own.”
“You make much of little, Brother,” Oddriser protested. “Mistakes were made.”
“By you. Why did you insist upon returning?”
Silence. Then from within the cell: “You would have let him kill me, Cagneidu.”
Cagneidu peered through the slit in the door. His brother, slouched against one wall, did not stir for his gazing.
“Yes, Oddriser, I would have. But only because it was necessary.”
Oddriser pulled his chin in thought. “Troubling.”
“Oddriser, do not misunderstand me. Your life is not one that I would carelessly part with, for we are of the same blood. However-”
“Do not misunderstand me, Cagneidu. I know well the reasons you would allow me slain, and that gives me no trouble. What troubles me is that you feel the need to give me such excuses. Perhaps even more troubling,” the Selector went on, “is that you know I could have killed him. You know that fact as well as I do.”
“Precisely why I forbade-”
“Yes, Brother, my Anima-Bkyes. But even without the root, there are numerous methods to kill a man.”
“I am more concerned for the preservation of the soul,” Cagneidu replied.
“Precious matter, the soul,” Oddriser agreed. “But there are other precious things in this world, Brother. How much do you know, Cagneidu, about what happened here?”
“I know that you did not follow the ledger. I know that your man attacked the Collaborators.”
“You are right, and you are wrong, dear Brother. I told you; I asked for nothing more than what I presented to you. It was Counsel who refused us the ledger.”
“And I told you, the Almanac was never upon the list. Had it been, I would have denied you.”
“And yet I had your blessing. For the Almanac as well as the others.”
“That is not the case.”
Oddriser stared at the wall, and then finally at Cagneidu, and found similarity, familiarity. At last, he said: “As for Counsel, our battle was no decision, nor will of mine. Counsel challenged me, surely knowing some measure of the things I am capable of.”
“Oddriser—”
“Cagneidu. Counsel.” Rather suddenly, he shot to his feet, eye to eye with his brother, only the stony slab between them. “The true difference between the two of you and I is not at all our desires, but our decisions. It has nothing to do with our motives, but our methods.”
Cagneidu retreated from the door and gestured to the guard. They approached and released their Selector prisoner.
Oddriser strode from the cell, ignoring all three of them.
“Oddriser,” Cagneidu implored. “Why did you return to the cell of all places?”
His brother turned. “I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve grown fond of it. Call me sentimental.” He stretched—and winced, but completed the motion nonetheless. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Brother,” Cagneidu said again. “We should depart immediately.”
“What’s your hurry, Cagneidu?” Oddriser’s voice came muffled beyond the stone door. “You have heard Counsel. We have been invited to stay a day’s time.”
Cagneidu spied the Collaborators, spied them spying him and his brother. “Not all that is offered is offered freely.”
Oddriser followed his brother’s eyes with his own, and though he could not see through the wall of his cell, he addressed his brother with feigned wonder, confusion. “You and Counsel are friends.”
“And thus I shall not impose upon him if it can be avoided. Especially given current circumstances.”
“Well, no one is keeping you here, Brother.”
“You are.”
“Well then, by my leave, you are welcome to depart at any time of your choosing, dear Brother,” Oddriser assured him.
“I think not,” Cagneidu disagreed. “This ordeal has shown me that I cannot leave you alone with Collaborators—for their safety, and your own.”
“You make much of little, Brother,” Oddriser protested. “Mistakes were made.”
“By you. Why did you insist upon returning?”
Silence. Then from within the cell: “You would have let him kill me, Cagneidu.”
Cagneidu peered through the slit in the door. His brother, slouched against one wall, did not stir for his gazing.
“Yes, Oddriser, I would have. But only because it was necessary.”
Oddriser pulled his chin in thought. “Troubling.”
“Oddriser, do not misunderstand me. Your life is not one that I would carelessly part with, for we are of the same blood. However-”
“Do not misunderstand me, Cagneidu. I know well the reasons you would allow me slain, and that gives me no trouble. What troubles me is that you feel the need to give me such excuses. Perhaps even more troubling,” the Selector went on, “is that you know I could have killed him. You know that fact as well as I do.”
“Precisely why I forbade-”
“Yes, Brother, my Anima-Bkyes. But even without the root, there are numerous methods to kill a man.”
“I am more concerned for the preservation of the soul,” Cagneidu replied.
“Precious matter, the soul,” Oddriser agreed. “But there are other precious things in this world, Brother. How much do you know, Cagneidu, about what happened here?”
“I know that you did not follow the ledger. I know that your man attacked the Collaborators.”
“You are right, and you are wrong, dear Brother. I told you; I asked for nothing more than what I presented to you. It was Counsel who refused us the ledger.”
“And I told you, the Almanac was never upon the list. Had it been, I would have denied you.”
“And yet I had your blessing. For the Almanac as well as the others.”
“That is not the case.”
Oddriser stared at the wall, and then finally at Cagneidu, and found similarity, familiarity. At last, he said: “As for Counsel, our battle was no decision, nor will of mine. Counsel challenged me, surely knowing some measure of the things I am capable of.”
“Oddriser—”
“Cagneidu. Counsel.” Rather suddenly, he shot to his feet, eye to eye with his brother, only the stony slab between them. “The true difference between the two of you and I is not at all our desires, but our decisions. It has nothing to do with our motives, but our methods.”
Cagneidu retreated from the door and gestured to the guard. They approached and released their Selector prisoner.
Oddriser strode from the cell, ignoring all three of them.
“Oddriser,” Cagneidu implored. “Why did you return to the cell of all places?”
His brother turned. “I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve grown fond of it. Call me sentimental.” He stretched—and winced, but completed the motion nonetheless. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
***
It
was not enough to languish in the cell of an enemy. It was not enough to spare
a rival’s life, once, or twice, or ten times over. It would do no good to aid
his people, nor destroy him, nor hobble through their streets in plain view of
all of them- but according to the least offensive of such options, Oddriser
proceeded.
He could have gone in the darkness, concealed. But people feared what they could not see. Were he more versatile in his art, he could perhaps complete his aim remotely. But people feared what they did not understand. Instead, he limped down the street, taking great care to avoid tripping over the cobblestones en route to the First Library. Perhaps more than the fear of the unknown, fear of the different, fear of the diametrically opposed, the fear of an entity whose mind could not be read. Word had traveled quickly that Lord Pelomect Oddriser was on the warpath to the First Library for the second time in nearly as few days.
Before him on the grand stairs stood line after line of halberdiers , weapons leveled in his direction. Behind them nearest the door, spellcasters with incantations at the ready, and higher still upon the balconies and the roof of the First Library, scores upon scores of archers, arrows drawn full bent upon their longbows.
Oddriser kept his eyes low, focused upon the stones in the road. His senses told him of the opposition, and even if those bowmen had claimed his eyes with their arrows, he would still be able to recount each and every enemy.
He could have gone in the darkness, concealed. But people feared what they could not see. Were he more versatile in his art, he could perhaps complete his aim remotely. But people feared what they did not understand. Instead, he limped down the street, taking great care to avoid tripping over the cobblestones en route to the First Library. Perhaps more than the fear of the unknown, fear of the different, fear of the diametrically opposed, the fear of an entity whose mind could not be read. Word had traveled quickly that Lord Pelomect Oddriser was on the warpath to the First Library for the second time in nearly as few days.
Before him on the grand stairs stood line after line of halberdiers , weapons leveled in his direction. Behind them nearest the door, spellcasters with incantations at the ready, and higher still upon the balconies and the roof of the First Library, scores upon scores of archers, arrows drawn full bent upon their longbows.
Oddriser kept his eyes low, focused upon the stones in the road. His senses told him of the opposition, and even if those bowmen had claimed his eyes with their arrows, he would still be able to recount each and every enemy.
The
city seemed more quiet than it had ever been.
Oddriser
thought about it. Beyond the physical, he could feel the fear, the indignation,
the hatred in their souls, well before it pooled as poison in their tightening
muscles and burned its way out from their glaring eyes.
“Selector!” One of them called. By his gaudy armor, gleaming and plumed, a captain of some
sort. “You will not approach the First Library!”
Grand,
really. All of their might. Their armaments, polished, honed, undoubtedly
lethal. But Oddriser didn’t need his eyes to see their shivering, nor his ears
to know how their hearts hammered merciless in their chests. But he could feel
something else as well, something vying for control on the surface of their
psyches.
“Turn
back, or by all the knowledge at our disposal, we will cut you down!”
Curious,
Oddriser took a step.
The
strained muscles strained further; the pikes shifted, waiting for the order.
He
could kill them. He could kill them all and they wouldn’t even realize that
they’d died.
“Turn
back!” The captain repeated.
He
almost smiled. He almost cried. He almost clenched his fists and thrashed
about. Between their threats and their hearts, their aim and the sight of them,
Oddriser could not reconcile which would be most appropriate, or what it was he
felt in the first place.
“MEN.
STOW YOUR ARMS.” Counsel. Not shouting, yet somehow his voice covered
everything. Confusion crossed the faces of the formation. The weapons and
spells wavered.
Counsel moved to stand between the First Library and the Selector, and perhaps more importantly, the Collaborators defending it. “Oddriser, where is your brother?”
Oddriser stared at Counsel. “He will arrive quickly enough, I assume.” He pushed past Counsel. The weapons that had relaxed now tracked his motions again- but after another step, he crumpled to the street.
Counsel reached down with his good arm to grab the Selector, but Oddriser pushed him off. “This is where I need to be, cousin.”
“It is not safe here.”
“Not for me.” Oddriser ran his fingertips over the stones; immaculate, sparkling- except for a particular blackened patch, where several empty craters lie.
“Yes.”
“I understand the peril.”
“I don’t believe you do.”
“Counsel,” Oddriser lifted his left hand, palm up, and then swept his right index finger across it. Selector blood sprayed into the street immediately. “Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”
Counsel’s eyes followed the crimson streak that first spilled along the road, his face expressionless as the blood began to congeal and trickle toward the gemless sockets. “I do not understand the question.”
“You had the opportunity to remove me from this world,” Oddriser continued, paying him no mind. “But you chose not to.”
The blood dribbled into the blackened holes and began to gleam.
“I did not kill you for the same reason that I had the opportunity to do so.”
Now Oddriser glanced over his shoulder. “I am not sure I understand.”
Counsel shifted his injured arm. “When we fought, and you tore apart my arm, you compared your powers to mine and your Brother’s. But the truth is, you do not understand my ability as well as you think you do.”
Oddriser turned back to the street. Now, his blood and swelled and hardened within the gaps.
“Had I chosen to slay you in the arena, I would forsake the blessings I have received.” Counsel followed Oddriser’s gaze to the mock gems he had driven into the path. “The question is, why didn’t you kill me?”
Oddriser shrugged and pulled himself to unsteady feet. “Killing you would not end well for anyone. It would cause the strife we sought so desperately do avoid.”
Counsel was looking at him again. Oddriser met his eyes for a time, and then turned his attention to his hand; the flesh had begun to seal itself, the wound now a blackened and ugly line across his palm. “You and Cagneidu think so little of me because of who I am and what I can do.”
“A partial truth, Oddriser,” Counsel amended. “You pair me with your brother so often, but remember, that he, like you, is a Selector, and I am a Collaborator. That is indication enough of our differences.”
Oddriser looked at him again. “And where does that leave the commonality between you and I?”
“I think you know, a little,” Counsel assured him. “As do I. And that shared understanding is one reason, among many, that I could not have possibly killed you.”
“Oddriser!” Cagneidu tumbled around the corner, flushed, breathless, and anything but pleased.
Oddriser turned. “Brother. Shall we go?”
Counsel moved to stand between the First Library and the Selector, and perhaps more importantly, the Collaborators defending it. “Oddriser, where is your brother?”
Oddriser stared at Counsel. “He will arrive quickly enough, I assume.” He pushed past Counsel. The weapons that had relaxed now tracked his motions again- but after another step, he crumpled to the street.
Counsel reached down with his good arm to grab the Selector, but Oddriser pushed him off. “This is where I need to be, cousin.”
“It is not safe here.”
“Not for me.” Oddriser ran his fingertips over the stones; immaculate, sparkling- except for a particular blackened patch, where several empty craters lie.
“Yes.”
“I understand the peril.”
“I don’t believe you do.”
“Counsel,” Oddriser lifted his left hand, palm up, and then swept his right index finger across it. Selector blood sprayed into the street immediately. “Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”
Counsel’s eyes followed the crimson streak that first spilled along the road, his face expressionless as the blood began to congeal and trickle toward the gemless sockets. “I do not understand the question.”
“You had the opportunity to remove me from this world,” Oddriser continued, paying him no mind. “But you chose not to.”
The blood dribbled into the blackened holes and began to gleam.
“I did not kill you for the same reason that I had the opportunity to do so.”
Now Oddriser glanced over his shoulder. “I am not sure I understand.”
Counsel shifted his injured arm. “When we fought, and you tore apart my arm, you compared your powers to mine and your Brother’s. But the truth is, you do not understand my ability as well as you think you do.”
Oddriser turned back to the street. Now, his blood and swelled and hardened within the gaps.
“Had I chosen to slay you in the arena, I would forsake the blessings I have received.” Counsel followed Oddriser’s gaze to the mock gems he had driven into the path. “The question is, why didn’t you kill me?”
Oddriser shrugged and pulled himself to unsteady feet. “Killing you would not end well for anyone. It would cause the strife we sought so desperately do avoid.”
Counsel was looking at him again. Oddriser met his eyes for a time, and then turned his attention to his hand; the flesh had begun to seal itself, the wound now a blackened and ugly line across his palm. “You and Cagneidu think so little of me because of who I am and what I can do.”
“A partial truth, Oddriser,” Counsel amended. “You pair me with your brother so often, but remember, that he, like you, is a Selector, and I am a Collaborator. That is indication enough of our differences.”
Oddriser looked at him again. “And where does that leave the commonality between you and I?”
“I think you know, a little,” Counsel assured him. “As do I. And that shared understanding is one reason, among many, that I could not have possibly killed you.”
“Oddriser!” Cagneidu tumbled around the corner, flushed, breathless, and anything but pleased.
Oddriser turned. “Brother. Shall we go?”
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