Asius remained standing long after the last of the attendees had gone.

  He forced himself to come to this place quite frequently. He always came alone to reflect on what had led them to build the greatest symbol of both respect and shame in their entire history. For the mortals, it was a common place, but for them it was unheard of. No matter how many millennia passed, he would never get used to having it in their world. Its construction marked one of the saddest, most significant milestones in their long history. The overwhelming feeling of sadness and the lump that always caught in his throat when he was there had flushed away the memory of what had been here before. Whatever it had been, it had had to make way for the worst temple that an immortal could conceive of: the Cemetery.

  Its birth had taken place at the end of the War when the shocking realization that they would have to face death had first emerged.

  But it wasn’t his reflections that had pushed Asius to return to the Cemetery this time. It was the funeral of one of their own. They had just put Edmon, the Runner who had taken part in hunting down Raven, to rest amongst the fallen. The thought that eternity had just been denied to someone who should have been destined for it made Asius tremble all over. Something like this should never have happened again. They had paid that debt—with interest—long, long ago.

  Even though he’d been to the Cemetery regularly over the millennia, Asius had been convinced he would never again have to participate in a funeral. The War had ended and appropriate measures had been taken to make sure nothing like that would ever happen in the future. In fact, death hadn’t dared to spread its black wings over any of them for such a long period of time it was difficult to calculate how long it had been. Then the Wave came and, with it, so many inexplicable changes—all for the worse. And now, death was touching them again and in a way it never had before: at the hands of a Minor. Edmon had not been killed by another immortal as the rest of the souls in the Cemetery had. Edmon was the first to be laid to rest in this horrible place courtesy of a human.

  “We should go, Asius.” Naela’s voice brought him out of his reverie. He’d thought he was alone. He turned and saw the Counselor approaching him, her long, chestnut hair flowing over her shoulders. “The Assembly is about to begin and you—being the organizer—wouldn’t want to arrive late.”

  Asius indeed did not want to arrive late. The issues he would present to the Council could not wait; he had to impress on them how very important these matters were so this time they wouldn’t dismiss them. He dedicated one last thought to Edmon and left with Naela.

  The Chamber of the Council was situated on the Fifth Sphere of the Nest. When Asius and Naela got to the antechamber, the other five Counselors were already there. The immense doors of the Chamber remained closed, signaling that the three Justices were not yet inside. Thankfully, Naela and Asius hadn’t arrived late. The Assemblies never began without the presence of the three Justices who held the highest positions in their society. Only the Elder was above them. But there had been Assemblies that had begun and ended without one or several of the seven Counselors.

  Asius exchanged greetings and a word or two with the rest of the Counselors, aware that all eyes were on him. This was the sixth time since the Wave the Council had met and, therefore, the sixth meeting since the Elder had disappeared. What was unusual about this Assembly, however, was that it had been called together in an unprecedented manner for the first time since the War. Asius was the one who had called for it.

  The doors of the Chamber opened with a soft whoosh and the Counselors went in and took their respective seats.

  The Chamber was a large, oval-shaped room with no ceiling. Its walls were of the purest white imaginable and no decorations interfered with its extraordinary simplicity so that nothing would distract the attention of its occupants. Several torches perpetually burned with a silent orange flame, reaching out from the walls like arms. No sounds other than the voices of the Counselors, Justices, and of course, the Elder, could be heard in the confines of the oval room. On a few exceptional occasions in which the testimony of someone outside the Council was required, it was necessary to place a special collar around the witness’s neck so his or her voice would be audible in the Chamber. This device could only be activated by one of the Justices or by the Elder himself, and the guest could hear nothing but his or her own voice and only while inside a circle of runes etched into the floor.

  The Justices were already in their seats, as was customary, when Asius and the rest of the Counselors entered into the emphatically silent room and took their seats. There was no need to take care to be quiet; neither their steps nor the swishing of their clothing could emit the faintest whisper of a sound. The Counselor’s seven chairs were placed in a semicircle and the Counselors were free to sit wherever they chose. They represented the lowest level of the Council and there was absolutely no distinction among them. The Justices were seated in front of them in a semicircle in three magnificent silver thrones that floated three feet off the floor.

  Asius took a seat on one of the ends, the tradition for those who knew they would need to stand before the rest of the members of the Council. He looked up. The Elder’s seat floated above all of them, much higher than those of the Justices, but a ring a moving light was the only thing that remained there since his disappearance. Asius longed for the Elder to be there in the Chamber with them today.

  The initial formalities took place, and Asius saw a thin octagonal crystal with uneven edges under a torch on the opposite side of the room. This crystal would collect and record everything that would be said there.

  Ergon gave the usual opening speech in which he stated the date and the names of all those present among a few other things. Then Diacos spoke up.

  “As we all know,” he began in a ceremonial tone, “we are joined here in an extraordinary manner, at the request of Counselor Asius. I will therefore turn the floor over to him, so that he can inform us of his concerns for the fourth time.”

  That final phrase did not sit well with Asius.

  Diacos was the only one that hadn’t been a Justice from the beginning of time. He’d earned that honor after the War due to two exceptional circumstances. The first was that there was a vacancy when, in a fierce and bloody battle, the traitor Tanon killed the Justice that had occupied the position. The second circumstance was his distinction of valor. Diacos was responsible for the most impressive of feats when he vanquished the Favored One, the leader of the traitors. That deed marked the beginning of the end of the War, which ended with the victory of his faction shortly thereafter. His fame and prestige were known to each and every one of them, and his appointment as the third Justice was a unique ceremony since there had never before been a vacancy, especially not in such a high-ranking position.

  On the other hand. Ergon and Renuin, seated on either side of Diacos, had always been Justices. Ergon was Asius’s main obstacle. It escaped the notice of none of the members of the Council that, more often than not, they tended to hold opposing opinions. But Renuin had taken a special interest in Asius. She was the only one of the Justices that occasionally offered him her support. Not always, but somewhat regularly. If he couldn’t convince her, his cause would once again be lost given it was unlikely that Diacos would back him up. The Hero, as he was known, usually would not let anyone know which way he was leaning, but in the vast majority of cases he ended up ruling in accordance with Ergon. The rest of the Counselors were as insignificant as he was when it came to making decisions if he couldn’t get at least one of the Justices to support him.

  Gracefully carrying the weight of their stares, Asius went to stand inside the circle of runes.

  “Thank you, Diacos. The first reason for my calling this Assembly is to urge the Council to reconsider putting into place defensive measures for the Threshold.” Asius paused in the hopes of putting a stop to the whispering. He passed his hand over his long red hair. “However, I would like to begin by reviewing the report Diago has brought to us in which, as you will see, there is new information to take into account before making a decision.”

  “Proceed, Asius,” said Ergon solemnly.

  “I understand that the members of the Council have already had access to the aforementioned report, so I will simply summarize my understanding of the most significant points. We are all familiar with the mission that Diago and his surveillance team is carrying out. We have assigned them the task of capturing Raven. Their last attempt failed, as have all previous attempts. The Minor has managed to escape again and his location is currently unknown. But a new variable has interfered with the plan to capture him. When Diago had the human in his possession, he was freed by the unexpected intervention of one of our old enemies. The fact that the enemy has shown itself should be taken into account by the Council. In addition—”

  “It is possible,” Ergon cut in, “that it may also have been due to the lack of competence demonstrated during the capture. After all, we are talking about just one enemy.”

  “It wasn’t just any enemy. Diago mentions his perception of her strength; it was one of the most powerful things he’s ever come up against.”

  The look of surprise on the faces of some of the Counselors did not escape Asius’s notice.

  “Which is the most convenient way to justify his failure,” insisted Ergon.

  “It goes without saying they’re no rookies,” Diacos added. There it was; Diacos was supporting Ergon. “Diago is a Guardian, specifically assigned to carry out tasks like this one, and there was only one enemy. They should have been able to manage the situation.”

  The obvious scorn for Diago’s work was like a slap in the face to Asius. He considered him an excellent comrade with a strong sense of honor, and for this reason the criticisms of Diago’s abilities personally affected Asius. He remembered when he, too, was a Guardian and how he’d saved Diago’s life during the War. From that moment on they’d been inseparable and, in spite of Asius being named a Counselor, they spent as much time together as possible. Their friendship meant a lot to him so he was not about to let a negative impression of Diago hang in the air like this.

  “I sincerely do not believe this is Diago’s fault. There was no reason to expect the enemy’s intervention. We haven’t ever encountered them like this. And certainly not one so powerful.”

  “That’s debatable,” countered Ergon. “They knew the access to the Hole had changed location because of the Wave. And the probability the enemy has escaped is so high that it should be taken as a fact. All this does nothing more than confirm our suspicions about the climate in London.”

  Asius bit his tongue. It was he who had pointed out the possible relationship between the Hole’s new gate and the cold weather in London, but the majority of the members of the Council had passed it off as a mere coincidence. However, now that Asius’s theory was confirmed, Ergon was taking advantage of this moment to present it as if it had been his idea from the start. It was a very astute move and Asius wasn’t sure how to fight it, much less in front of the Council.

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  “Diago is not responsible for what happened.” Asius had no choice but to play his last trick to defend his friend, but it would guarantee him Ergon’s animosity. “You, Ergon, appointed him to this operation.”

  “I don’t think Diago’s actions are what prompted you to call us together today,” intervened Renuin. “Where are you headed with this, Asius?”

  “Wherever I have to for us to deploy the Shield over the Citadel so we can check that it’s functioning correctly. I also recommend we consider assigning more of us to the Threshold, especially Guardians, instead of spreading us out over the seven spheres.”

  “Your suggestions are ill-timed.” Ergon frowned and Asius prepared himself for their typical battle of ideas. “You are again bringing before the Council measures appropriate during times of war, and that is not the situation right now. The sighting of a single enemy does not represent a threat. We’ll take care of it, of all our enemies, when the time comes.”

  “The War ended millennia ago,” added Sailo, a Counselor Asius had tagged quite some time ago as a loyal supporter of Ergon’s way of thinking. “And we won. They wouldn’t dare try it again.” Ergon looked quite pleased to have Sailo’s support.

  “I agree that we are not at war.” Asius wasn’t going to give up that easily. “But what I’m saying is that we should prepare ourselves in case it happens again. We never imagined a war could be possible the first time.”

  Asius looked at Renuin as much as he could without anyone noticing. He knew Ergon and Diacos wouldn’t change their minds, and he desperately needed his argument to catch the attention of one of the three Justices. For the moment, her face didn’t allow him to come to any conclusions about her position. She remained serious and quiet.

  “Things have changed since then,” said Ergon. “The Citadel is impregnable; there is nothing that can put so much as a nick in its walls or its gates, and only from inside it can one travel to the rest of the spheres. Besides, we have double their numbers and I’m more than happy to remind you that we’ve never been defeated.” A soft murmur of agreement followed that last declaration. Ergon was an artist with words and was terribly effective at influencing his audience by saying exactly what the Council wanted to hear. “To invest our resources in activating the Shield without any real cause is a waste, just as abandoning our investigation of the Wave would be.”

  “The Shield was built after the War,” Asius reminded him. “We relied on it for the defense of the Citadel but we only tried it once. We don’t know that it will work since the Wave. It might have suffered serious damage, just like so many other parts of the Nest. It’s not too much to ask that we check it out just in case.”

  “There is no reason to think the Shield would have any functional issues,” stated Diacos. “Its activation requires one hundred of us to operate it, and right now those efforts are being put to use inspecting the malfunction in the Nest’s harmony. To pull them off that investigation would mean postponing the moment when we’ll finally know the full scope of the Wave. We aren’t the only ones depending on knowing that answer. The mortal’s plane is also experiencing inexplicable changes and the number of lives they’ve lost is overwhelming. We aren’t doing this just for ourselves.”

  “If we lose another war, if the enemy takes power, what destiny do you suppose awaits the mortals? I haven’t forgotten about them, either. We’re working toward the same end. The only radical difference is in our priorities. I believe that securing our defenses is the most sensible thing to do at the moment, even though it may mean a delay in the investigation of the Wave.”

  “Once again, there is no war,” said Ergon with complete conviction.

  “We should prepare ourselves for whatever may come,” replied Asius. “If the Wave taught us anything, it’s that anything is possible, including things we haven’t even imagined. And there’s still so much we don’t know. We don’t know where the Neutrals are, or if the Sleepers have something to do with the recent occurrences.”

  “Neither of these is a threat,” assured Ergon. “There are too few of them and they haven’t even dared to show their faces. They’re hiding somewhere and that’s where they’ll stay. As soon as the investigation of the Wave is completed, we’ll catch them. So, until the Elder returns, we will keep things as they are. We will stay faithful to his last orders.”

  Asius remembered Diago’s reaction when he expressed his doubts with respect to whether or not the Elder was going to return. His friend had gotten so angry that he’d smashed the chair he’d been sitting on into tiny slivers. This time he had to be more subtle with his insinuations or he would unintentionally give Ergon the perfect weapon to crush him in this debate.

  “And what if it’s a long time before the Elder returns?” Asius used a cautious, innocent tone. “It could be that he might be delayed for a long time. We can’t keep thinking that tomorrow he’ll be back with us again. His orders didn’t take the Wave into consideration. So our actions should be based on recent occurrences.”

  “What are you insinuating, Asius?” Ergon’s voice no longer sounded as certain and his tone was more serious. “That the Elder didn’t inform us of the Wave doesn’t mean a thing. He has his reasons, just as he has reasons for not being here now, you can be sure of that. It is not appropriate for us to question his decisions. We have only to comply with them.”

  “The Wave is part of some plan of the Elder’s,” seconded Diacos. “Just because we don’t understand it does not change that simple fact. Our duty is to keep things as they are until his return.”

  “If he returns,” thought Asius, but he didn’t dare say that out loud.

  The two Justices’ wall of obstinacy was turning out to be more difficult to break down than Asius had ever dreamed it would be. Renuin remained attentive to the verbal jousting without showing her emotions. Asius felt a pang of desperation when he realized he was going to lose the argument. Ergon’s stance was too firm and Diacos was the War hero; no one would dare to contradict them publicly. He was alone. Even so, he couldn’t give up. His convictions were too strong and he was sure if he couldn’t win today, he could at least plant the seed of doubt for another time.

  “Just as you say the Wave is part of some plan of the Elders, Diacos, part of that same plan could be that we start making our own decisions.”

  “I’m going to try to restrain myself regardless of what you just said to us, Asius, since it seems you look down your nose at how much we do in the Council.” There was no doubt Ergon was already at the point of openly declaring war on Asius. “We make our own decisions. If you do not see that, then perhaps it is because they are not the decisions you would make. It seems you are not aware of what we know about the Wave up to this point.” Asius knew perfectly well, but he thought it prudent to keep quiet and not add more fuel to the fire. “The harmony of the Nest is deteriorating and, as time goes by, the deterioration worsens. Since the Wave, we haven’t been able to access the Dwelling, the seventh and most important sphere. According to the preliminary estimates, if we don’t correct the problem, in about twenty years the Nest will disappear, or worse, and Earth will run the same risk. Maybe even sooner. It’s possible we’re fighting to avoid the end of existence, so I don’t see how that shouldn’t be the focus of every one of our efforts.”

  Asius was dying to explain himself. If the enemy defeated them in a new war, they would be gone in much less than twenty years. But he knew that arguing with Ergon and the Hero without proof was political suicide and, in the interest of truth, he had to admit his theories were based on a mix of conjecture and suspicions and not on anything concrete. Ergon was angry now and was not going to listen to him, so he decided to stop trying to make him see he was only asking for a short delay in the grand scheme of things to evaluate what might happen if the Threshold were to be attacked. Asius adopted a defeated posture and continued listening to the speech with the hope of placating Ergon’s wrath.

  “Our priorities, therefore, are to continue the investigations and to capture Raven as quickly as possible. All indications are that the Wave and Raven are intimately related. We must find out to what degree and in what way Raven holds the key to the Wave.”

  Asius already knew that a vote would not be necessary to decide if the suggested measures were approved. However, he looked over the faces of the six Counselors as he went back to his seat just in case he might find there some sign of support. Only Naela was looking at him with a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. It was a start, but a very small one. For a proposal to move forward in the Council, the votes in favor had to be more than the votes against and the abstentions, but the votes of the seven Counselors put together in the unusual case they should all be in agreement counted as much as the vote of one of the Justices. Consequently, knowing that Ergon and the Hero were against him, Asius needed Renuin and every single Counselor on his side, which was highly unlikely. And even if it were to go that way, it would still end up a tie.

  He would have to double his efforts to make this happen. He wasn’t starting off from a favorable spot. Asius hadn’t been a Counselor from the beginning of time. Just like Diacos, he earned the honor after the War, but not being considered a hero like Diacos, he still sensed a certain mistrust from almost everyone on the Council except for Diacos, Naela, and Renuin. He had to open up their eyes somehow. Maybe he was wrong about the possible threat from their old enemy, but something told him they weren’t behaving normally. The Wave had changed everything, yet the Council kept acting just as they always had, as if the Elder were still supervising them. Before the Wave the Council never had had to face decisions of such magnitude; the Elder had taken care of that. But now they were on their own and Asius felt in his heart that future battles should be fought in a radically different way than what they were used to.

  He took his seat and patiently waited for them to formally deny his request. Asius didn’t even hear Ergon’s voice closing the Assembly. Absorbed in his thoughts, he was the last to leave the Chamber. He glanced at the ring of light floating up high and wondered where the Elder could be.

  The rest of them had already left when Asius went out.

  “You shouldn’t give up, Asius,” Diacos said from behind him. “I heard so much passion in your arguments. Such pure emotion can’t be completely wrong.”

  “A strange compliment,” he replied, intrigued. He stopped so the Hero could catch up with him. “Especially coming from someone who refuted what I was saying so many times.”

  “That was just to see how far your convictions take you,” explained Diacos with a slight smile.

  “Apparently, not far enough.”

  “Are you saying that because of me?” Diacos pretended to be surprised. “Actually I thought what you said today was very interesting. Do you really think the Elder won’t come back? Oh, right, I know you didn’t say that during the Assembly. Your words were very restrained, but your eyes were not.”

  Asius was impressed by Diacos’s shrewdness, but also somewhat displeased. He didn’t like it when people could read him so well. He would have to be more careful in the Hero’s presence in the future.

  “I’m not sure he’s not going to come back. I have no proof that—”

  “You don’t need to mince words with me. You’re not talking with a Justice; you’re talking with a friend.”

  Asius didn’t know how to take that. He’d never had an especially close relationship with Diacos, and this could be his chance to get closer to one of the Justices, but it seemed Diacos’s was contradicting himself. In the precious few occasions when the Hero hadn’t sided with Ergon, he’d stayed out of the discussions altogether or abstained from voting. Then today he’d been so much in concert with Ergon that they’d seemed to share the same voice. Asius had barely been able to tell them apart.

  “I see your doubts are keeping you from believing what I’m saying,” Diacos said calmly. “I suppose that’s to be expected.”

  “Okay.” Asius gave in to the overwhelming temptation to try to convince one of the Justices, and no less this War legend. “It’s not that I think the Elder won’t return. But I believe the best thing is to act as though he won’t.” Asius paused and looked at Diacos, conscious that he’d just said something that almost no one could accept. He was prepared to be reprimanded. But Diacos said nothing and gestured for him to continue with his explanation. “I don’t believe it’s likely the Elder will come back in time to overcome the fallout from the Wave. I don’t know why; that’s just how I feel. If he does, so much the better. But just in case, in my opinion it would be better for us to act of our own accord. We limit ourselves by just waiting.”

  “I understand perfectly why you didn’t level with the Council like you just did with me.” The Hero chuckled lightheartedly. Asius had never seen him outside a formal setting and was surprised to hear him speak so naturally. “As it is, one of the faces I saw Ergon make surprised me more than the Wave did. I thank you for your sincerity, and I can tell you that I’m considering taking your observations more seriously.”

  “But . . . you voted against me.”

  “Naturally. It is my duty to vote according to my conscience and, for the moment, I believe Ergon is doing what’s right. However, your words have made me think and I’d like to delve more into your ideas. It’s stupid to deny oneself one’s options.”

  “I would be honored to explain my ideas to you. We could meet—”

  Diacos held up both hands and Asius got quiet.

  “Regrettably, my time is limited and my obligations will not permit me to use it to attend to everything I’d like to. But my intention is firm. I’m thinking about sending my personal assistant, Zaedon, to you so he could support you however you need and then pass your ideas on to me. But only if you consider that to be helpful, naturally.”

  “Of course I do. I’d welcome Zaedon’s help. He can keep you informed and when you have time we can go over the most important details.”

  “Then we have an agreement. I’ll send Zaedon to you today.”

  Asius felt a little less anxious. Maybe he’d accomplished something important in the Assembly after all.