Page 228 of Carousel

People pick at their rolls, talking amongst themselves.

I’m drawn to the sound of Meg’s voice across the table. She sounds agitated.

And I see she’s not talking to a person. Her radio is in her hand, and she’s repeating a single name into it.

“Ephraine,” she says. “Ephraine. Come in, Ephraine.”

It’s attracted Dezeeves’ attention, too. Leaning over Drake, he states, “Meg. Perhaps we can leave the radio, while we are all dining?”

She gives him a look like she could bite him. “We do not know where he is. He has not been answering me for almost twenty-four hours. He could be in distress⁠—”

“He is on a mission. His ship is out. That is all.”

“A mission he told no one about?”

“Meg. Please.”

She places the radio on the table. But keeps staring at it.

The next course is served in bowls. Lamb and vegetable stew with doughy dumplings.

Cosmer eats like it’s the best meal he’s ever had.

I take a few spoonfuls, but hardly taste it.

I just want this over.

Drake isn’t looking this way. He’s engaged in a pleasant-looking conversation with Dezeeves. As if Dezeeves is not our enemy, but our good friend. As if he has no plans to kill him at all.

The sight of him like that is blood-boiling.

What are you playing at, Drake?

I’m glad I didn’t agree to a truce.

But I can’t understand why it takes such effort to drag my eyes away from him.

Once most have finished their food and spoons are clattering into empty bowls, Dezeeves gets our attention with a firm clap of his hands.

“Now, I know many of us should be returning to The Bridge for the last leg of our journey. But I wanted to share an announcement. Just a couple of hours ago, we received the news that Hevalla, seeing our weapon in action, and with its own wounds to now tend to on the ground…” He pauses, as if just for effect, then says, in a voice that seems to resound around the room, “Has surrendered.”

The effect is instantaneous. Everyone seems to either cheer, or clap, or both.

The war… is over?

I thought I would never hear those words.

“It’s the news we have been waiting for,” Dezeeves says leisurely. “But I’d like to say a few more words on this, our final night.” He pauses, glimpsing us all. “I wanted to thank you, once again, for putting your trust in me. As FIs on my ship, you endured at times situations that may have been uncomfortable. Humiliating, even. Some of you fought against fellow Rhavnans in battle. But your patience has brought forth reward. In Rhavna, we will be welcomed into the Queen’s court, for our loyalty and sacrifice. Those of you who were already part of the court will receive stations of highest honour.” Here, he glances pointedly at Meg and Rike.

I don’t want to listen to any more of this. I turn to Cosmer to try to get his attention, but he seems fully in Dezeeves’ thrall as he continues this speech he must have prepared.

“In my youth, I was devoted to The Maiden. In fact, I had a love for all of the deities in the known world. I longed to find ways to be closer to them. To prove myself, in their eyes. And that is when I came to Rhavna, and eventually the dome. I was able to meet your – our – queen, not long before her coronation as a young woman herself. The profound impact this visit had on me cannot be understated. I do believe the magic I witnessed there – the blessing of the gods – changed the course of my life. Many of you have your own magic – godliness – which must be placed back into the dome, where it belongs.”

He touches the ducts of his eyes. At some point, he had started weeping.

But all I am, is disgusted. Magic is a blessing from the Sisters, yes, but it is not godliness. What he has just said is blasphemy.

“The Queen will keep you safe from those who may try to harm you for your magic. We know Lartos has long been developing medical treatments using your blood, often unlawfully taken. The Queen is aware.”