“I have lived in the Castle and been part of the Circle. I have felt San hold time still for me. If I were yet Eszai at least my voice would be heard. I could try to make things better. San is keen to hear us-if Tornado was not bloodthirstily blocking the way we would be standing in the Throne Room now. San would open the Castle’s treasury to aid us. But in respect of your fears I have called my men to retreat. Now I’m mortal again, same as you, I’m free to tell you how the Circle is a web of deceit. San would benefit greatly to be free of the lies of his ministers.”

The crowd sensed his conviction and gave their faith to his terrible mendacity. By god, I thought; he’s not acting, he believes it.

Gio stood and stretched then sat down again, swinging his legs to tap the folded-down bucket tops of his boots against the planks. He swept a hand over his hair, which slipped out of its ponytail and hung around his shoulders. The crowd watched, some uncomfortably, although I imagined Cinna alert for the promise of scandal. Gio did the public speaking equivalent of swapping hands in a fencing match: “Your suffering is the fault of the duplicitous Eszai. Mist Ata Dei’s one of the worst. Ask yourselves how she could be allowed to be immortal at all.”

Gio paced across the stage, around the lowered wrought iron candelabrum and back, his coattails flowing out behind him. He wore the 1969 Sword, a faultless rapier custom-made for him, and the jewels on its scabbard scattered lamplight as only diamonds can. Their adamantine luster threw moving spectra on the walls.

“Zascai don’t know half of what this monster has done, because of course the confessions of new Eszai are customarily kept secret. You already know that Mist once razed your harbors, raided the coast and sank the fleet-out and out piracy from which the coast has hardly recovered! Would we be in such a poor state now if this arch-bitch hadn’t wreaked carnage? How many lives were lost? Well, we don’t know because Comet never told us.”

I tensed at the mention of my name. How was I supposed to know? I had other pressing matters to attend to back then, like Insects besieging Lowespass. But the mortals followed Gio’s every word.

“Ata was a wife who brought her husband down. The Emperor let her Challenge stand legitimately. Why did he make the decision to let her run riot at such a vital time? Was Comet informing San properly? What was going on between the Sailor and the Messenger that that layabout ladykiller should support Ata so much?

“And while Comet misleads the Emperor-either deliberately or through laziness-his wife spends her time living lavishly. Every other governor leads their fyrd. How many parties and fashion shows have been thrown by Tern while Wrought is still smoking rubble?

“And while we consider the misgovernance of manors by those Eszai lucky enough to own land, consider the most corrupt of the Circle whom you may have thought of as the most capable because you are accustomed to lies. Lightning Micawater is the best Archer ever. Nobody can deny that. Of course he is-his family could afford the best tutors in the distant past when he was a student, and he makes sure the skill of archery hasn’t changed since then. What an unfortunate mishap that he chanced to inherit the manor on the glittering river. Lightning embellishes his palace even as your farms and towns lie in ruins. What happened to Awian artisans anyway-those of you who aren’t here?”

A chuckle went around the hall.

“They’re all competing for work in other countries. Lightning the romantic archaist does not spend his money rightly but spends his time having affairs with married women-how chivalrous can you get? He was involved in the destruction of the harbors with his lover, Ata, and when the greedy blue-blood bagged Peregrine manorship in the spoils of war he gave it to his illegitimate daughter!

“The newfound Island of Tris is part of Lightning’s kingdom too, now he’s just returned from playing at explorers with his pirate queen and their drunken lackey.”

Drunken lackey? Who’s that? I puzzled. Oh, no, he means me, doesn’t he?

“Lightning is not venerable but obsolete. He was young in spirit when the world was young but times have moved on. He’s a thing of the past; he holds us back. It’s time we took control and it’s an exciting moment for Awians to make their own decisions and live without him.

“Frost and her River Works Company profiteer from the rebuilding process. Hayl and his immortal husband are both reckless men. Only yesterday, they attacked us without provocation and Tornado joined them soon after with a division of your own brothers in the fyrd. Now I believe that too many people are being drafted. Since Tornado lost his girlfriend five years ago, he’s taken his fury out on the Insects and the draft continues while fields lie unplanted. The Circle should preserve lives but the Messenger flies in to the Plainslands to tear families apart.

“Comet is fond of the bottle. The truth isn’t widely known because he really indulges in the Castle-out of the public eye. I’ve seen him staggering drunk in the Great Hall. He often isn’t spotted for days at a stretch-during which time it’s known he hasn’t left his room. Why does the Emperor keep him when I felt the Circle twitch every time he binges? I don’t know if the alcohol affects his reliability-but is it any wonder there are rumors that his wife sleeps with another man?”

Gio waved his hand against the crowd’s torrent of wicked laughter.

“No, no,” he said. “I go back on that. Far be it from me to slander anyone. Tern manages it very well herself. The rumors are unsupported-just like her!”

How dare he call me a filthy drunk! I nearly flew down and told him-scolopendium is a much better type of substance abuse. And I’m good at it; I have it under control! But at least alcohol is legal. The crowd believed Gio because it matched their caricature of a Rhydanne, and that hurt even more.

I ground my teeth and the blood rushed, red hot, to my face. Oh, Tern, why did you do this to me? In private it’s bad enough, when my prowess in bed is the only reputation I have-but I don’t think I can stand being the capricious and irresistible Messenger cuckolded in front of the world.

Gio strode up and down, his hand resting on his sword hilt. He mused, “The worst thing about these corrupt members of the Circle is that they’ll never die.

“I can offer you a way to live outside their rule. Better still, it comes with riches, a chance to shape your future free of kings, governors and fyrd captains too. Anyone who follows me will be set up for life. I can give you Tris.”

The crowd was silent. Gio saw this and didn’t pause for long. “I’ve spoken to some of the mariners who saw Capharnaum. They say the tiles on the roofs of the houses are embedded with turquoise and tourmaline. Even Trisian infants wear crowns. They esteem gold because of its beauty, not because of its rarity-they think less of it than we do of spelter or brass. They use it for household objects: mangles, boot scrapes and-you’ll love this-chamber pots.”

Gio scanned the aisles of skeptical faces. “You clearly don’t believe me. Well, look; I have one here.” As he spoke, he trotted to the back of the stage and unpacked several items from a canvas bag. He held up the very chamber pot that Danio had given to Wrenn. He had polished it to a brilliance and it dazzled.

Everybody in the hall began to laugh, and Gio smiled too. He was scarcely audible over the tumult. “Mauvein is a practically Eszai-good jeweler. Verify this for me.” He slipped down off the stage and gave the pot to a portly man whom I recognized as one of Ata’s sons-although by now he was much older than his mother.

The gleaming chamber pot was turned around under his big fingers and then he nodded. “It’s enough bullion for a manorship to buy out of providing fyrd for two years. I could find better things to do with this than piss in it.”