her instruments 02 - rose point (39 page)

“No,” Liolesa said. “But if we can reach the library, we can use my Pad.”

“Your Pad!” Reese said. And then, remembering, “Oh, the dais, right? That’s why it was so springy. It’s under the carpet.”

“Just so.” Liolesa frowned. “But you act as if you are sure we can leave. There will be armed men standing outside the door and they will have modern weapons.”

“That’s why Bryer’s going first,” Reese said. She tapped her temple. “Right around here is the only place they can hit him with a palmer if they want to hurt him. Otherwise his feathers do some magical thing that makes him impervious to it.”

“Ah so,” Liolesa said, glancing at Bryer with lifted brows. “You have a crew of many talents, Theresa.”

“Most of which I didn’t even know about until I started running all over the Alliance trying to keep Hirianthial out of the hands of slavers,” Reese said, wry.

“So we break out of here, run for the Pad and take the Queen up to the
Earthrise
,” Sascha said. “What about Hirianthial?”

“We’re going to have to find him and get him to the library somehow,” Reese said. “Talk to Malia, tell her we’re coming, all right? And find out where Irine is.”

“On it,” Sascha said, and withdrew to a corner with the tablet.

Reese turned to Liolesa. “Our priority is getting you out of here. But once you’re gone, we’re not leaving without Hirianthial. He’ll die without real medical treatment.”

“If they keep him here,” Kis’eh’t said quietly.

They both looked at her.

“You said yourself that our enemy has ties to the underworld,” Kis’eh’t said. “If it’s the same person who’s been giving away the location of the Eldritch to the Chatcaava, then it’s the same people who’ve been chasing Hirianthial all this time. Someone gave those people real weapons, Reese. I’m betting they’ll be dropping by to pick up Hirianthial too. They’ve wanted him for a long time now.”

“They’re going to keep wanting him, because they’re not getting him,” Reese said. She glanced at Liolesa. “Speaking of which... how the hell does Hirianthial have a brother who could do this and no one tells me?”

“No one told you?” she said, a hiccup in her rage. “But Hirianthial said Araelis had told you everything?”

...and she had set that trap herself by telling him they didn’t have to discuss everything Araelis had told her. Reese sighed. “Apparently not everything.”

“Your Majesty?” Sascha said. “Malia wants to talk to you.” He handed the tablet over. After the Queen had backed into the corner to consult with the Tam-illee, he said to Reese, “Boss? What in all the battlehells is going on?”

“We want to hear the whole thing,” Kis’eh’t said.

“We might not have time for the whole thing,” Reese said.

“The condensed version, then.” Sascha’s ears flattened.

She tried to suck in a breath and discovered she was shaking. Allacazam gave her the sound of ocean waters and she calmed her breathing until it matched their rhythm. “Hirianthial has brother who apparently hates him, and lured him into a trap by dragging me away and then having him attacked with so many people he had to use his esper abilities to stop them. That’s apparently enough to get you killed here. The Queen’s enemies said that Liolesa was planning on using him as a threat to force them to bow to her demands, which include making mortals land-holders.” She swallowed. “Like me.”

“Like... you?” Kis’eh’t said carefully.

“I... ah... if we survive this, I apparently have a castle.”

Their silence was as absolute as the ones she’d endured in the hall, but it was friendlier, and it ended more quickly. Sascha set a hand on her shoulder and said, “Boss, if there’s a castle waiting for us on the other side of this, hells yes, you’re surviving it. And so are we.”

“A castle sounds great to me,” Kis’eh’t said. “As long as we can have heated floor tiles installed.”

Bryer ruffled his feathers. “A sky is good.”

Even Allacazam seemed to smile, something that felt like the memory of sunlight on her shoulders, except it wasn’t her memory, and it wasn’t the Flitzbe’s. That sense of strength, of the smell of wildflowers she didn’t recognize, and the sun-warmed spice of grasses... that was an Eldritch memory.

She put a hand to her face. She didn’t want her last sight of Hirianthial to have been him crumpled on the floor in the hall, surrounded by his enemies.

Kis’eh’t’s hand on her elbow roused her. “Hey,” the Glaseah said, quiet. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get him out of this.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Holding the tablet, Liolesa joined them. “We need to go soon, before my allies do something regrettable.”

“Like attempt to break you out?” Reese said. “Speaking of that, what about your Swords? Are they going to do something about this coup?”

“They shouldn’t,” Liolesa said. “They had instructions on how to handle similar situations. I have to assume they aren’t going to allow themselves to be massacred pitting their swords against energy weapons. I did not choose them to be stupid. This free agent of yours... she may be able to help us. The priests should know where Hirianthial has been taken. If she can get to the chapel...? But she must be careful; Asaniefa’s quartered on that side of Ontine.”

“She can handle it,” Sascha said. “Can you give her directions?”

“Of course.”

Reese listened, trying to quell her anxiety. She hated the thought of her crew pent up in here with her, but she hated that Irine was out alone even more. Her nervousness must have shown, because Sascha said, “It’ll be fine, Boss. My sister might not be much good in a fight, but sneaking around?” He grinned. “Remind us to tell you about how we scared our father into a clinic once.”

“I will,” Reese said. “When this is over.” She looked at them all. “Are we ready? Do we know what we’re doing?”

“From here to the library with the Queen,” Sascha said. “And from there to where Irine tells us.” He glanced at Kis’eh’t. “You coming or going up?”

“Going up,” Kis’eh’t said. “If Hirianthial’s as badly hurt as we think he is, I need to get the lab ready to act like a clinic. I’ll take Allacazam too... we don’t want him in a fight where he might get lost or hurt.”

Reese nodded. She looked at Liolesa. “Are you ready?”

“I am,” Liolesa said. “And Theresa—thank you. I expected you to prove your worth to me easily, but not quite this soon.”

Reese flushed. Cleared her throat and moved out of the way. “Bryer, you’re up.”

Bryer looked at Kis’eh’t, who nodded. “Ready? Go!”

Together the two of them rushed the door. Kis’eh’t’s bulk ripped it open; Bryer’s feathers flared as he leaped over her. The squeak of palmers firing, the thump of bodies striking the ground, and it was over. Sascha grabbed both the fallen guards’ palmers and passed one to Reese. “Fire it, all right?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, though she was queasy. “I will.” She hugged Allacazam against her side and ran behind them, wishing she wasn’t in the damned dress and the twice-damned corset. How Liolesa was keeping up with them without any signs of distress she couldn’t imagine.

They ran into more guards halfway to the library, and it worried Reese that they seemed to know how to use their weapons. Bryer’s invulnerability was the only thing that kept them from being trapped in the hall.

“Hells,” Sascha said as he stripped those guards too. “They’ve been training with these things.”

“For how long?” Kis’eh’t said, ears flattened.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Reese said. “Let’s hide these people.... help me with this.”

Together they dragged the guards into an adjacent room and shut the door, then hurried down the corridors.

No one was guarding the library.

“Why?” Reese asked as they shut the door behind them. “Why wouldn’t they put guards everywhere?”

“My partisans are not likely to come here,” Liolesa said. “They are allowing my allies to assume we’re being held in our respective suites. Most of the guards will be there, at my office, at your rooms. And the only people who know this Pad is here are me and the Tam-illee who brought it in-system. Why would they guard a library?” She strode to the raised floor and crouched, flipping the carpet up to expose the Pad. She entered the coordinates, watched the lights go from red to amber to the blue of a full tunnel. “What’s the danger in a room full of books?”

Reese shook her head. “Go up now, please. The sooner you’re safe, the better.”

“Follow me soon,” Liolesa said, and walked over the Pad.

Kis’eh’t went to her, held out her hands. Reese swallowed and squeezed Allacazam against her chest, then handed him over, hushing him with promises she prayed she’d be able to keep. Hadn’t she told Hirianthial that sometimes people in power weren’t allowed to keep their promises? She didn’t want to be finding out this soon.

“You’ll be fine,” Kis’eh’t repeated, clasping her arm.

“I have to be,” Reese said. “Get that clinic ready.”

Kis’eh’t nodded and ran over the Pad, Allacazam held tightly in her arms. The moment she vanished, Reese flipped the carpet back over it and shuddered. “Okay. Three down. Now let’s find our man.”

Hirianthial strove for consciousness and touched it, barely, clung to it, to the stink of blood and the shriek of abused nerves, and there he would have remained but he was touched by a cold hand and the sensation that built then—

Curiosity first, anticipation heady as a kiss. And it crested abruptly into an epiphany that rolled through his body like the shudder of thunder, a knowing so intimate and so eager he spilled it in tears, for he could not contain it; it was a rising, a piercing moment of glory that shattered him. Did God know everyone thus? Did He discover them thus? He had never felt anything like it, and it overcame him. He lost his grip on the world and fell into the memory of it, into gladness at having known it and grief that it had been so fleeting.

When he woke the second time, it was into the firm grip of more pain than he’d felt in his life, and he had lived over six centuries. He froze, almost didn’t breathe for fear of inciting it. What had they done to him? He barely remembered the fight, and then briefly being aware of Ontine’s carpets. Had they done enough to him to make him hurt this much?

There were people talking in the room. Low murmurs, but one of them was Baniel. The other he didn’t recognize.

It took him several sentences to realize they were speaking Universal.

“...on their way.”

“Very good. You had what you wanted of him?”

“Yesssss.”

“And it was good, I see.” A smile in Baniel’s voice, sardonic. “You will forgive me my envy.”

A huff. “Make him ready.”

“Of course.”

The door squeaked as it scraped on stone: he was in the catacombs, then, from the sound and the wet chill in the air, close and sour with mold.

Robes hissed on the floor. A stool dragged across the ground, creaked beneath the weight that settled on it.

Hirianthial reached toward that presence and lost the world for pain. When he swam back to consciousness, he found a foot pressing on his wrist, which was how he knew it had been broken. His eyes watered.

“You may try to slay me if you wish, but you’ll find your previous exertions have strained you,” Baniel said. “You may wish to leave off, if you want to have a last, touching conversation with your estranged brother before we are forever parted.”

“Is…” He licked his lips and forced the words out. “Is that a promise?”

Baniel’s smile was in his words again. “Oh, indubitably. We are both ready to be quit of one another, I think.”

“And you will kill me,” Hirianthial said.

“Don’t be dull,” Baniel said. “Killing you would be too easy. No, brother, I intend you to live a long full life… far, far away from anything or anyone you care about.”

“If you leave me alive… I will kill you, Baniel. It may take the rest of my life, but I will kill you.”

“Perhaps,” Baniel said. “But not before I’m done destroying everything you think worth living for. I’ve already made a good start. Shall I prove it to you? Let me.” He leaned forward, fingers lighting on Hirianthial’s head, teasing through the strands of hair. The touch reminded him powerfully of the Rekesh, but reaching for the power made his eyes swim and the world bleed white.

When he could focus again, his brother had all his hair in one hand. He tugged, lightly. “A man should have locks as long as his years, yes? Proof that he is a man, and heir to all that men may have: power, wealth, a wife, a place in society.” A sharp jerk and the strands swung back to brush his face, their shorn edges barely touching his throat. “I took your parents. Now I have made you a pariah among our people: Corel come again, they are calling you. Your wife you thoughtfully took care of yourself. But I am not done.” Baniel reached forth, found the dangle and jingled it, the bell singing thin and small in the dank room. “When I have finished with your little mortal friends, I’ll have someone cut this off for me. It won’t be long.”

Hirianthial stared at the coil of white strands in front of him. The chill on the back of his neck was foreign, sucked him straight back to his earliest memories before he’d been allowed to wear an adult’s length.

“Goodbye, brother,” Baniel said. Another of those smiles. “And good luck—with the dragons.”

It was as if he’d been struck fresh with another arrow. His eyes flashed open. “No—”

“Oh yes,” Baniel said. “Oh yes.” Chuckling, he shut the door, snuffing the light in the room. Hirianthial dug his fingers into the rock floor but couldn’t push himself up. He had to escape. Had to warn the others, the Queen... if his brother could hand him over to the Chatcaava, what else had he arranged? But he couldn’t rise. Couldn’t reach out for any mind without incurring a pain so intense he could barely keep from vomiting. He made the effort anyway and lost his awareness of time in the attempts, until at last his cheek struck the ground and he couldn’t lift it again.

Of all the captivities he’d endured, this one was the most galling. To be handed over to slavers by a man he should have killed decades ago....

He would either escape, or go to confinement. Either way he would live, and in life there was hope that he might come back and finish the execution he should have committed when the blood was fresh and the memories cruel as wounds. He had lived to regret leaving Baniel alive. He would return the favor.