Read Online The Fifth Season by N. K. Jemisin - Free Book Online Page B

of this.
    “He recently completed a circuit in the Somidlats,” Feldspar says, gently. There’s no actual gentleness to the conversation’s subject matter, but Syen appreciates the older woman’s effort. “Ordinarily we’d allow him more time to rest before setting him back on the road, but the quartent governor was insistent that we do something about Allia’s harbor blockage as soon as possible. You’re the one who’ll do the work; he’s just there to supervise. Getting there should take a month or so, if you don’t make many detours and travel at an easy pace—and there’s no hurry, given that the coral reef isn’t exactly a sudden problem.”
    At this, Feldspar looks fleetingly, but truly, annoyed. The quartent governor of Allia, or possibly Allia’s Leadership, must have been especially irritating. In the years since Feldspar became her assigned senior, Syen has never seen the old woman show any expression worse than a brittle smile. They both know the rules: Fulcrum orogenes—Imperial orogenes, blackjackets,the ones you probably shouldn’t kill, whatever people want to call them—must be always polite and professional. Fulcrum orogenes must project confidence and expertise whenever they are in public. Fulcrum orogenes must never show anger because it makes the stills nervous. Except Feldspar would never be so improper as to use a slur like the stills —but that is why Feldspar is a senior and has been given supervisory responsibilities, while Syenite merely grinds her own edges alone. She’ll have to demonstrate more professionalism if she wants Feldspar’s job. That, and she’ll apparently have to do a few other things.
    “When do I meet him?” Syenite asks. She takes a sip of safe so this question will seem casual. Just a bit of conversation between old friends.
    “Whenever you like.” Feldspar shrugs. “He has quarters in the seniors’ hall. We did send him a briefing and a request that he attend this meeting…” Again she looks mildly irritated. This whole situation must be terrible for her, just terrible. “… but it’s possible he missed the message, since as I said he’s been recovering from his circuit. Traveling the Likesh Mountains alone is difficult.”
    “Alone?”
    “Five-ringers and above are no longer required to have a partner or Guardian when traveling outside the Fulcrum.” Feldspar sips from her cup of safe, oblivious to Syenite’s shock. “At that point we are judged stable enough in our mastery of orogeny to be granted a modicum of autonomy.”
    Five rings. She has four. It’s bullshit that this has anything to do with orogenic mastery; if a Guardian has doubts about an orogene’s willingness to follow the rules, that orogene doesn’tmake it to the first ring, let alone the fifth. But…“So it’ll be just him and me.”
    “Yes. We’ve found that arrangement to be most effective in circumstances like this.”
    Of course.
    Feldspar continues. “You’ll find him in Shaped Prominence.” That’s the complex of buildings that houses most of the Fulcrum’s complement of seniors. “Main tower, top floor. There are no set-aside quarters for the most senior orogenes because there are so few—he is our only ten-ringer, at present—but we could at least spare him a bit of extra space up there.”
    “Thank you,” Syen says, turning her cup again. “I’ll go see him after this.”
    Feldspar pauses for a long moment, her face going even more pleasantly unreadable than usual, and that is Syenite’s warning. Then Feldspar says: “As a ten-ringer, he has the right to refuse any mission short of a declared emergency. You should know that.”
    Wait. Syen’s fingers stop turning the cup, and her eyes flick up to meet those of the older woman. Is Feld saying what it sounds like she’s saying? Can’t be. Syen narrows her eyes, no longer bothering to conceal her suspicion. And yet. Feldspar has given her a way out. Why?
    Feldspar smiles thinly. “I have six