The Collapsing Path (The Narrowing Path Series Book 3) Read online

  As the applause died down, the music rose up again with renewed vigor, and the dancers resumed their patterns. Bowe started down the stairs. A fleeting regret was that Zofila was not on his arm, but she herself had argued against that. As he neared the ground floor, Bowe felt himself the scrutiny of many ascora and their daughters. Not arriving with Zofila had made Bowe even more of an enticing marriage prospect. A clear opportunity to be the head wife of a Guardian didn’t come along too often.

  Choosing his future wives was an important part of this occasion, but Bowe wanted to dodge that responsibility initially. He spotted Sindar in a corner talking to a woman with long dark hair, and aimed himself fixedly in that direction, ignoring the glances that tried to hold his gaze and dodging the hands lifted to grab his attention.

  By the time he reached Sindar, the ascor was alone. Bowe sneaked into the corner so that Sindar blocked the approach of any women who might try to grab his attention.

  “Who was that you were talking to?” Bowe asked.

  “A Greenette. Not sure where she’s got to,” Sindar said. With the noble sons about to walk the Path being called Greens, the noble daughters were sometimes called Greenettes.

  “Which one?”

  Sindar shrugged. “She didn’t tell me her name.”

  “We’re in high demand.” Bowe grinned at his old friend. “We’ve done the hard work, reached the top of the mountain, and now it’s time to enjoy it.”

  “There might be one or two girls eyeing me. All the rest are watching you.”

  “Jealous?” Bowe asked him. “You’re normally the one who gets the second and third looks from women.”

  “Not at all. I actually don’t enjoy this at all. Just being beside you, I can feel their eyes crawling all over me.”

  Bowe smiled. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

  “I enjoy being admired by beautiful women. This is different, though. It’s like I’m a piece of meat been watched by hungry dogs. There is more greed than desire in their expressions.” He glanced across at Bowe. “But don’t mind me. You should enjoy your moment.”

  “You have to do your part as well,” Bowe said. “We need wives and children in Bellanger Mansion to secure the family’s future. Even if it’s a sacrifice.”

  “You still have that cold, analytical blood running through your veins even when you should be salivating because scores of beautiful young women want to jump you.”

  “It’s not like I can just turn off my brain.” Bowe knew Sindar was joking, but he still felt insulted.

  “Most men aren’t like you. Their blood runs hot and they follow their desires.”

  “I am like most men.” Even as he said it, Bowe knew it wasn’t true.

  Sindar slapped Bowe on the back and laughed. “You should see your face. It’s not a bad thing. Those whose blood runs too hot end up getting stabbed in a tavern in a fight over a whore. It’s good you are who you are. No one else could have done what you have.”

  It was true that logic and strategy drove Bowe’s decisions, not emotions. That was the way he had to be. The previous Bellanger Guardian, dead three sexennia now, also called Bowe, had become distracted by his passions and his whole family had suffered for it.

  Sindar was wrong about Bowe being all ice, even if Bowe wanted that. Iyra was his fiery heart. After not having seen her in three years, it didn’t make any sense that she should still appear in his dreams. Dozens of girls within these four walls would kill to marry Bowe, yet he could never be with the one girl he wanted.

  Does she still hate me for forming the Army of Pots and Pans? he wondered. Perhaps she had forgotten him. That would be for the best. He had to forget her; the two of them, ascor and escay, could never be. Bowe needed less fire and more ice flowing through his veins. He needed to be strong for his family and not give in to weaknesses. The family had already suffered enough from bad guardianship from a Bowe Bellanger.

  “What’s with the distant look?” Sindar asked.

  “I guess I should be focused on what’s in front of me.”

  “Damn right you should. All these beautiful girls just wanting to get their claws into you. Go get some.”

  Bowe’s gaze skidded off those who were desperate for his attention, and he caught sight of Zofila in conversation with Sorrin. “I certainly will, but first I should talk to Zofila. I’m thinking it was a mistake to arrive without her on my arm.”

  Sindar shook his head. “You’re useless. Still coldly strategizing in the face of all this temptation.”

  “Not strategizing so much as thinking that Zofila deserves better than what I’ve given her.”

  “She’s talking to Sorrin.”

  Bowe left Sindar and strode purposefully toward the stairs, not looking left or right. One of the girls leaned an arm across his path, but he blew past her. As he walked, he considered Sindar’s last remark, wondering if the ascor had meant anything by it. Did Sindar know that Zofila and Sorrin were having an affair?

  Bowe reached the base of the stairs without having been deflected, but there a girl blocked his path.

  He sidestepped, but she slid across, staying in front of him; he couldn’t get past without running over her.

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  “My name is Borba,” she said. “And you want to talk to me.”

  “Don’t you mean that you want me to talk to you?”

  She shook her head. “I always know what I mean. If you don’t know you want to talk to me, it’s because you don’t know what I have to offer.”

  “Offer? In what sense?”

  “As a head wife.”

  Bowe raised his eyebrows. “If I remember protocol correctly, I’m the one who decides whom I marry. And I already have a head wife.”

  “You have a first wife,” Borba said. “But you are looking for a new head wife. I am who you need.”

  “I don’t need anyone.”

  “You do. Your position is more precarious than you realize. I’m from the Grenier family and know that Stenesso doesn’t forget. He still wants rid of you.”

  “I understand my own position better than you.”

  “Perhaps.” Borba shrugged. “But you could always use extra strength. That is what I’d provide as a head wife. I don’t get jealous so I wouldn’t care which of these”—she waved her fingers in the air to encompass everyone in the room—“others you also married. Take as many as you want. Pretty ones, bouncy ones, witty ones, whoever take your fancy.”

  “Thanks for your permission.”

  “I’ll keep them in line.” She ignored the sarcasm. “I’ll manage the household, taking that responsibility off of you. But not just that—I’ll be able to help you maintain and grow the Bellanger family. I have already started a network of spies. Did you know that there will be a meeting of Guardians this evening?”

  “Of course I did.” A meeting?

  Borba nodded. “I can see you didn’t. Stenesso arranged that you weren’t alerted. When I’m your head wife, you’ll never be caught by surprise.”

  Bowe didn’t see why the Stenesso would have bothered to keep knowledge of a meeting from him; subtle maneuvers were all part of the ascorim. Stenesso must be hoping to catch me off guard.

  Borba watched Bowe process the news. “You see, I am useful to you already.”

  “There’s more to being a wife than being politically useful,” Bowe said.

  “I have conferred with the other women and know that I’m not unattractive,” Borba said.

  It wasn’t untrue. She had smooth skin, delicate features, and womanly curves. She could almost be called beautiful, except she lacked animation, like the sculpture of a beautiful woman.

  “I am not interested in clothes and makeup,” she continued, “but have made a study of it, as I know it will be expected of me to look the part on your arm at public occasions. As for in the bedroom, I will not deny you anything. But you’ll have other wives, so I’m sure you’ll have all your desires satisfied between
all of us.”

  Bowe blushed. When he’d told her that a marriage meant more than being politically useful, Bowe hadn’t meant in the bedroom. He’d been thinking about love. He couldn’t say that to her, of course. She’d think he was being silly and he probably was. Ascor didn’t marry for love. Most married for lust, then left them to take care of the household and the children without ever getting too attached.

  “Thank you for your offer, Borba. I’ll certainly consider it, and I know you’ll make some ascor a great wife.” He moved onward.

  She blocked him again. “No. It must be you. Did you know I can beat all the Greens in the Grenier household in Harmony? I have studied the games you played when you walked the Path and have admired your mind from afar through Harmony moves. Together we will forge a Bellanger family so strong that it will never even be under threat again.” She took a breath. “You’ll get propositioned by a great many girls before Infernam comes. They’ll lie, promise, threaten, flirt, then lie some more. I have been completely honest with you here—though I am an excellent liar when the occasion calls for it—and you won’t find a better wife.”

  Bowe moved past her again and this time she let him go. Bowe ascended the stairs, glancing back as he neared the top. Borba stood alone, watching Bowe, while around her the other girls glared daggers at her. They wished they’d had her gumption, Bowe thought. Like Coinal, she had dared to approach when others didn’t. However, Bowe couldn't help feeling more affectionate toward the Green. If he was being cold and calculating about it, though, caring whether Coinal lived on died on the Path was going to be a weakness, while it seemed Borba could only add strength for the family. If only marrying her didn’t seem like such a sacrifice.

  Bowe joined Zofila on the balcony. “Where’s Sorrin disappeared to?” Bowe asked.

  “Limping around somewhere like the gimpy fool he is,” she said with a smile.

  “I’ll tell him you called him that,” Bowe said.

  “Nothing I haven’t said to his face.”

  Bowe glanced down onto the ballroom floor. A few Greenettes still watched him, but most had moved on to other targets. Sindar must have been cornered, because he was being swept around the dance floor by a bosomy brunette. Thrace was surrounded by four girls and seemed to be loving every moment of it. His arm lay across one girl’s shoulder, and he held the hand of another, belly laughing at her joke. In a far corner, Oamir was deep in conversation with a young blonde girl, talking her ear off. Bowe hoped that she was at least marginally interested in history—if she wasn’t she was being bored out of her mind. Bowe chided himself for his uncharitable thoughts about Oamir. The young man was immensely helpful to Bowe, but Bowe hated to get trapped in a conversation with him.

  “It’s disgusting.” Zofila was following Bowe’s gaze as it traveled across the ballroom.

  “What is?”

  “This. The whole Greenette Path. Even the name is horrible. The boys were called Greens, so the girls became Greenettes. Ug.”

  “There isn’t much choice. For them, for us, for the Greens either,” Bowe said. “It’s just the way it has to be.”

  Zofila glanced over at Bowe. “You didn’t always think that.”

  Bowe shrugged, uncomfortable. First Coinal and now Zofila, forcing him to confront what he didn’t want to. “It’s the way it’s always been.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “You haven’t voiced such thoughts outside the family, have you?” Bowe asked.

  “I sometimes think it is worse than the Green Path. It’s more degrading the way the girls have to catch a husband to survive. The Green Path is brutal, but at least the fight is out in the open. There’s the possibility of honor in it. Under all the makeup and pretty dresses, it’s nothing but ugliness in the Greenette Path.” She sighed. “At least the chances of survival are higher.”

  Perhaps Zofila would have respected Borba’s approach. It was certainly open.

  Bowe didn’t want to discuss the Path any more. “I came to apologize to you for not having you on my arm when I arrived here this evening. We should have savored the moment together.”

  “It would have meant nothing to me. It’s better this way.”

  “You’d have more prestige, be known as the true mistress of Bellanger Mansion,” Bowe said. “Not arriving with me will be considered a slight.”

  “By people I don’t care about? Will you consider me differently? Would Sorrin? Would Sindar?”

  That reminded Bowe of Sindar's casual remark about Sorrin and Zofila. Bowe shuffled closer. “Does Sindar know? About you and...and you know?”

  Zofila shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “He might suspect. I wonder if anyone else does. You were talking to Sorrin when I entered.”

  “You can’t expect me not to talk to him in public. That would actually be more suspicious than anything else.” She hesitated. “Why not let the truth come out? Everything would work itself out.”

  Bowe shook his head vigorously. “No way. I want to help you two be happy together. I promised to do my best for you both and I mean that. There may be a chance in the future for it all to come out in the open, but it certainly won’t be this side of the Infernam.” Much of the Bellangers’ strength relied on Bowe’s personal reputation, and that would be severely damaged by such a scandal. When Bowe had many wives, it might be less of a big deal. Perhaps then they could figure out a way for her and Sorrin to openly be together.

  “Young Bellanger.” Bowe turned to see Stenesso approaching.

  “Is this about the Guardian meeting?” Bowe asked him. The skin tightened a fraction around Stenesso’s eyes, revealing his surprise. So he had hoped to catch me out, Bowe thought. Borba had proved useful already.

  “We’re all together in the antechamber. Is your second around, the one with the bad leg—I can never remember his name.”

  “Sorrin,” Zofila said sharply, and Bowe sent her the briefest of warning glares. She had to keep her affection for Sorrin secret.

  “He won’t be attending.” Bowe didn’t want Stenesso to know he’d been caught by surprise. “Lead the way.”

  Stenesso led Bowe into a small antechamber. Kesirran, the Raine Guardian, sat at the far end of an oval table. His hand propped up his head, almost as if he was asleep. But he couldn’t be, not Kesirran—he had been the rock of the Raine family for sexennia. Beside him was Jeniano, with his youthful face and long white hair. Despite having been poisoned by him, Bowe liked and respected the Raine second. The poisoning hadn’t been personal, and Jeniano had supplied the antidote when Bowe came up with the money he owed.

  Legrand Grenier faced away from Bowe. He changed his hair color the way other men changed their underwear, and his hair was currently bright orange. Legrand had set up a trap that ended up killing one of Bowe’s friends. Bowe neither liked nor respected Legrand.

  The other two ascor at the table were Sorani, the Lessard Guardian and his brother Eolnar. Bowe didn’t know Sorani well, but Eolnar had maneuvered to lead the Bellanger family before the Battle of Pots and Pans had allowed Bowe to gain enough power to secure his position.

  “Let us begin.” Stenesso sat beside Legrand. “We have much to discuss.”

  Bowe sat down beside the Grenier Guardian, not liking the way Stenesso had already taken charge.

  Kesirran looked up, letting his hand fall on the table. “First, I have an announcement to make. I will not be taking up space in the Refuge this year. Another will take my place as Raine Guardian before the Infernam, and I am hoping the transition will be smooth.” He glanced over at Jeniano, making his favorite clear. But he couldn’t guarantee that the other Raine ascor would go along with his choice. Internal struggles to become Guardian were often messy affairs. They could be bloody too, and, if so, weaken the family.

  Nothing was immediately said as each person absorbed what Kesirran had told them. What did one say to a person who was soon to take Paradise’s Kiss? Bowe had many reasons to be gr
ateful to the Raine Guardian. It was he, along with Cenarro, the then Lessard Guardian, who had decided to save the baby found crying in the mansion of the dead. That baby had been Bowe, and Kesirran had effectively adopted him, letting Bowe grow up in Raine Mansion like a son of a Raine ascor.

  Bowe respected him, but didn’t feel any true affection for the old man. He, along with the other Raine ascor, had been as distant as the mountaintops when Bowe was growing up. Fatherhood was something that happened only in escay families.

  “So I get a heavy silence,” Kesirran said. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re getting sentimental on me. Arcandis is screwed if the Guardians are going soft.”

  “Don’t worry, old man,” Sorani said. “Nothing like that. Everyone is just figuring out how to take advantage of the vacuum your leaving will create.”

  An upheaval in one family affected all Arcandis and those who were prepared could avoid the pitfalls while taking advantage of the opportunities. Bowe didn’t know who might challenge Jeniano but he, and the other Guardians, intended to find out.

  “You are the actually the lucky one,” Eolnar said. “We’ll be the ones with sweat like lava streaming from our pores as Helion presses down upon us in the coming days.”

  “You’re not lying,” Kesirran said. “The thought of missing Infernam’s heat will have me chugging Paradise’s Kiss like it’s Urni’s best wine.”

  That generated a few chuckles. Although the moment of reflection and sadness at the table had surprised Bowe, it was understandable. Kesirran had strode in Arcandis society like a giant for many sexennia and he had worked closely with many of those around the table. Ascor might be heartless but they were still human.

  “I want to talk about the Infernam preparations,” Stenesso said. “Normally by the start of Green Path, that’s all in motion. This time...well, I don’t want us all to starve when we retreat to the Refuge.”

  Sorani frowned. “You are in charge of supplying the Refuge, are you not?”