Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) Jacinta Jade (best classic novels txt) 📖

could sit in a greater position of authority than in the space where Chezran was currently positioned. A slight turn of the lord’s head to the left or right, and he would be able to see the face of any speaker in the room, while everyone else would be required to turn their heads in varying directions.

Subtle, Siraay thought to herself, but effective. She filed away this piece of information about the importance of selecting one’s place within a space and focused on the faces of the captains and archons as they filed into the room, studying them carefully while appearing to take in the room, her posture upright and her shoulders back.

Her observations of them over the course of dinner, and now as they made their way through the counsel room to choose their seats, were already revealing interesting insights. Although the captains technically had more authority as leaders of the various divisions of Chezran’s army, Siraay had noticed that it was the reaction of the archons, especially Pyron, that Chezran paid attention to, and so she, in turn, watched them more closely than the others.

Archon Renhed, the female spymaster, was especially captivating. Posture relaxed, seemingly easy-going, but interested in everything happening around her, the spymaster was someone you would categorise as bright.

Siraay might not have thought much more on it if it hadn’t been for the glance the spymaster had levelled her way as she’d entered the room, for just the briefest moment.

Dark eyes met her own, and Siraay felt those eyes scanning everything about her in an instant. Just as if she had been laid bare in that unguarded moment that their eyes connected, a mind as sharp as the edge of a blade assessing her.

Then, a breath later, the spymaster had turned to respond to a question from one of the captains, back to her former bright and intelligent self, the ruthlessness and deeper awareness hidden once more beneath that slightly dimmer outer shell.

Mindful of not appearing too intrigued by any one individual, Siraay let her gaze continue to drift on in a continued sweep. But in her mind, she had elevated the spymaster to take second position behind Pyron, in the race for most influential ally—or the biggest threat.

The captains and archons all moved around the end of the low couch and took their positions in no apparent order, except for Pyron, who, once again, took the seat on Chezran’s other side, and the head tactician, Archon Atalia, who moved to stand before the raised section of wall.

While waiting for the archons and captains to select their seats, Siraay noted how the divan was comfortable enough for her to concentrate on the impending discussion but not so comfortable that she would be happy to be perched there for spans while a debate raged on.

A purposeful design aspect, no doubt.

As everyone settled in, their expressions became more focused, the languor of dinner left behind.

Siraay realised that this was what she had been waiting for—an insight into Chezran’s strategy, to know what it was they were after. Eager for the meeting to get underway, she caught herself biting the inside of her lip but then, quickly remembering the spymaster’s keen dark eyes, stopped herself.

Beside her, Chezran gave Atalia a nod.

The female turned and waved her hand over part of the wall, and silently, the angle of its surface began to increase until it was leaning on a seventy-degree angle. The archon waved her hand again, and a three-dimensional image appeared over the previously blank surface.

For Siraay, it took a conscious control of her body, and a stern reminder to herself of the eyes present in the room, to stop herself from leaning forwards to more closely examine what she was seeing.

It was Kaslon. Or, at least, the vast majority of its surface. While Kaslon was mostly a water planet, with one large, spreading continent, it did have islands sprinkled throughout its seas, some very far away, others close, their size ranging from quite large to no bigger than an atoll. Yet the people of Kaslon had never populated these, preferring those islands to remain untouched bastions of paradise for the other species that shared their world. These islands were not included on this map, with the focus on the inhabited land mass only.

The scale of the surface area shown was large enough to display the three—no, four, Siraay corrected herself—cities on the map. The seaside capital, Tunet, the mountain city, Opanau, and the lake city that was her former self’s home, Lalinta. And, far away from the other three, was the fourth—Xarcon.

She studied the map intently, calculating distances as Atalia addressed Chezran.

‘We have two divisions stationed here and here,’ she said, turning to the map and pointing at the projection, pegs of red light springing up from the board as she indicated the various locations.

One was situated close to Opanau while the other was nearer to the capital, Tunet.

‘Each division is larger and more powerful than anything the Resistance can throw at us. Both are prepared to move on your command, but they are obeying your standing orders to only gather intelligence and’—the female archon’s eyes flicked to Siraay briefly before looking back at Chezran—‘more resources, if the opportunity arises.’

So it was true. Chezran’s army actively worked to capture and turn citizens—youths close to adulthood, in particular—and members of the Resistance into a fighting resource of their own.

Atalia continued her briefing. ‘As you also ordered, any persons showing particular talent has been transported as quickly as possible to the city for inclusion in the program.’

Chezran nodded an acknowledgment of the tactician’s words, his gaze still fixed on the map before him.

Siraay, meanwhile, was beginning to understand more and more why she had been singled out so long ago.

‘And how is the third division shaping up?’ Chezran’s question was asked almost casually, but in the slim time she had been observing him over dinner, Siraay had already learned that, even if his face betrayed little interest, his mind