I have not forgotten what happened before Yelin: the theracants confirmed they were lied to. That there was nothing wrong with my father’s rule or relationship to the Theracant’s Guild—the whole thing was based on lies. This will be crucial in exposing the traditionalists. In unseating them.

  But I still need time to figure out who was behind Arayim. And when I am ready, I need to do more than stick my hand in the water and show people my proofs. I need to confront Nerimes and have the temple see the proof on his face. I’ll need time to figure out how to do this. Not to mention protection from the overseers until they’re convinced. And the Seilam Deul, however they figure into this.

  Which means I need the theracants.

  What I don’t need is to get caught up in whatever plans they have for me. Good thing it sounds like they’re divided on what those plans are. I can use that.

  The theracants are chatting pleasantly as I walk in, something about new silks down from the ironway. I try to affect the same tone. “That’s better,” I say, settling down. “Thank you. One question—do you hear them all the time?”

  “We can train you to block them out,” Regiana says. “Broodlings, we call them. But if you wanted to? Yes. You can hear everyone you’ve ever touched, and echoes of those they’ve touched. For some of the theracants who’ve worked the streets a long time, that’s most of the city.”

  I wonder if it’s like my waterblind, only reversed somehow. If I could learn it on my own. Either way, I have to make peace with Yelin for now—there are more important things afoot.

  “Uje. And you could make all of them into bloodborn, right? Why do you need me?”

  Regiana blows on her teacup. “We have never needed that kind of power. And if we were to summon much of the city, they would rebel against us as soon as we let go.”

  A woman to her left nods. “The best power never has to be used.”

  “Ah,” I say. “So you just want to threaten that power?”

  “No,” Regiana says, just as Miyara says, “Yes.”

  I raise my eyebrows. Miyara eyes Regiana, then says, “If you’ll excuse us.”

  The two step into the hallway, and the rest of the women fidget. I hide a smile—I have them. They know that I know now: that they are divided on how to use their power against the temple. And by extension, divided on how to use me. Which means I have room to bargain.

  “Fresh tea, perhaps,” a theracant says, and Temerana scuttles off.

  The eldest women come back as the tea is being served, settling themselves with calm faces, as though there has been no disturbance.

  “Thank you, daughters,” Regiana says. “That will be all. Aletheia, if you’ll stay?”

  Like that, the other seven women rise and make polite motions, along with Estrija and Temerana, the youngest leaving her teacup half-filled.

  I seize the opportunity, sliding next to Miyara and pouring her cup, as their ceremony seems to require. I leave the lid off the pot, steam wafting out. With any luck, it will be enough water to catch a glimpse of their thoughts.

  Miyara pours for Regiana, and once the old woman has settled her cup, she turns to me. “I’ll be blunt, girl. You don’t have much choice here. There is a death sentence on your head in the streets, and with last night’s news that danger will be tenfold. We are the only ones who can keep you safe.”

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  Nothing useful in the steam yet. I shrug. “I could leave the city. I know ways out.”

  Regiana’s dark eyes bore into mine. “But you will not. Your heart is too true for that. You wish to right Nerimes’ wrong.”

  I start—damn the woman. “Did you read me somehow?” Is she a seer too?

  “You do not need magic at my age, girl. You monks—or do you call yourself a nun?—read minds so much you forget you have faces.”

  “We can help you with the traditionalists,” Miyara says. “If you support us.” I catch a hint of her thoughts, just a touch, enough to infer that she wants that support badly.

  “Which one of you?” I ask blandly.

  They glance at each other. “What do you mean?”

  “I may be young, but I don’t need water to read your division. You’re split on how to resist. Some of you want to use the bloodborn, and the others something more subtle.” I catch a flash of thought in the steam—something about using their influence to keep the other guilds from paying taxes. A kind of temple boycott. Interesting. “And you two are divided as well.”

  “There is a time when youth should hold its tongue,” Regiana says.

  Another flash, in a thought-tone I’m starting to identify as hers. “You would boycott, then. And Miyara favors the bloodborn.”

  Their scowls deepen, and I have to work hard this time to hide my smile.

  “I do not favor the bloodborn,” Miyara says. “It is the only strategy strong enough to work.”

  “And to fail in the next moment,” I say, thinking through what I’ve seen of their thoughts, “when you release them, and the whole city turns against you.”

  Regiana scowls, and I read more hints in the steam.

  “Then again,” I go on, “if you use your influence to stop the guilds from paying taxes, there’s no guarantee the drop in money would stop Nerimes’ plans, especially with the Seilam Deul supporting him. So neither the bloodborn nor the boycott will work,” I finish. “Is that about the sum of your arguments?”

  Regiana stares. Miyara’s mouth is actually open in shock. I take a sip of tea.

  Miyara glances at the steam, realizing, and hurriedly gets up. Regiana sits unperturbed, face going still again. “I have nothing to hide from you, girl,” she says. “You are the only solution. That’s what I’ve been saying all along. The city distrusts us and the temple equally, but they hate the idea of being bloodborn far more than being subject to watersight.”

  “You can’t blame them for that,” I put in, remembering Gaxna’s story.

  “No, I suppose not. But it means the only one they will trust is an outsider. At this point, that’s either you or the Seilam Deul. If the Deul come out against us, our hand is forced, and we lose the game even if we win the battle using bloodborn.”

  “But if you come out against the temple,” Miyara continues, “or against the traditionalists at least, the city will listen. You are of both sides, having both magics, the daughter of a Chosen and a theracant. The city will admire you, will hopefully remember the good times under your father, and not how his reign ended.”

  “It ended in lies,” I say. “The lies that tricked you into getting defensive, and lies about trade and heresy.”

  Regiana raises an eyebrow, as if she knows something of my father’s heresies, but says, “Those are exactly the things you need to say. To prove the temple is in no position to rule this city.”

  And, by inference, that the theracants are. It’s the old power struggle, and for all their talk of balance these women are as locked in it as Nerimes and the rest. Though it’s probably better not to say that.

  “And in exchange for this, you give me the letter.”

  “The letter,” Miyara says, “and our protection, and the chance to develop your bloodsight.”

  I have no plans of following through with this. At least, not in the way they’re going to want me to. But I will expose the traditionalists. “Give me an hour to think, and to read the letter.”

  Regiana chuckles. “Only to have you decline? Oh no. We need your commitment first.”

  “Then I commit.” What else can I do? I need these women as much as they need me, if for slightly different reasons. And I’m burning to know what the letter says, why my father distrusted the temple enough to give it to the theracants. “I will be the figurehead you need to show the temple is not fit to rule.”

  Regiana gives me hawk eyes, then nods. “And so we commit as well. We will deliver the letter and offer the support you need to expose the traditionalists.”

  Miyara shakes her head though, reaching for me. “Give me your arm.”

  I see her making the strange fist, bloodhook out, and roll to my feet, dropping into Floodwaters Rise. “Try it.”

  “Miyara,” Regiana says, holding up a hand. “We can trust the girl.”

  The gaze Miyara gives me looks anything but trusting, but she nods. “As you say, Mother. I’ll fetch the letter.”

  I keep my staff up.

  Regiana rises too. “Well. There are other things that need doing this afternoon. Temerana will attend you. Send for me if you need to… talk, after the letter.”

  I get the feeling again that they’ve read it, no matter what Miyara says. Or that the whole thing is a hoax, just a ploy they used to get me to agree.

  Uje help them if that’s the case.