Suited (27 page)

“What’s happening?” My mouth felt cottony. I realised I was desperately thirsty.

“Tanyana?” Natasha peered at me. “You must have been tired.” She glanced at the door. “We heard noise.”

Then voices shouted, bodies scraped through the rubble, and Kichlan appeared. He took one quick look around the circular room, leapt across the distance between us, scooped me up in arms, and kissed me hotly on the mouth.

I pushed against him, weak and useless with the cold, because my mouth still tasted like wool and it couldn’t have been pleasant. But he would not let me dislodge him. His lips moved from mine only long enough to near-crush me against him, before he kissed me again.

When he released me I was warm again, and embarrassed. Behind him, what looked like a small crowd had gathered to watch and smirk.

Lad, furiously red with the light of oil lamps and flickering candles, grinned ear to ear. Eugeny, Yicor and Valya watched the floor carefully. Sofia had her back to us, Mizra and Uzdal shared a scandalised expression, while Natasha and Aleksey seemed to be trying for no expression at all. Fedor looked entirely unimpressed, but that was normal.

Suddenly the great domed room felt too small. Suddenly, there was not enough air.

“Tan,” Kichlan whispered in my ear. “Are you hurt? Mob on the streets and then you didn’t arrive, I waited and waited and you didn’t come!”

I pulled back a little. “You aren’t angry with me?” Sounded pathetic when I said it, but I couldn’t stop the words. They welled up on a wave of guilt, that the last time we had spoken we had been angry and mistrustful. I should never have let that happen.

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes searching my face. “Oh, Tan.” He shook his head. “Of course I’m not. I was so scared. I don’t want you to go, Tan. I don’t want you to go.” He unwrapped his arms, but clasped my hand instead.

“So.” Fedor cleared his throat. “You’ve got a bit of a problem now don’t you.”

I swallowed on a dry throat and wished again for water.

“Not fair to blame Tan,” Lad murmured. “Was not her fault.”

I willed him to be silent; to keep Natasha’s secret like I had promised her he could. From the corner of my eye I watched Natasha shift the weight on her feet. Nothing changed on her face, though she slid her hand back into an invisible pocket and I knew, if she had to, she would ensure her secret remained so.

But Fedor hesitated, glanced at Lad. “The Keeper. I know–”

“We risked this for him, didn’t we?” I grabbed onto his misunderstanding like a lifeline. “And this isn’t even as bad as last time the Unbound tried to rebel! The veche might be chasing us, but we have not been caught. They do not know where we are.”

Fedor wavered. He looked at Lad again. “Is he, is the Keeper, is he here–”

“I told you to leave my brother alone.” Kichlan released his hold on me, took Lad’s hand instead.

“But he is a Half. He belongs with us–”

“He is not yours to use!”

Valya, apparently oblivious to the tension, placed her hands squarely on her hips and scanned the room. “You will stay here. Safe here. We will bring you bedding and blankets. I will feed you all. Keep you warm. Keep up your strength.”

Unsure what else I could do, I thanked her. Kichlan held his brother and engaged in a glaring contest with Fedor. I wished I could lie down again, no matter how cold the stones.

“This is all fascinating, really,” Uzdal drawled. “But would someone like to tell Sofia and me what’s going on?”

I paced the dark underground street because the suit would not let me sit still. Keeper ghosts in pale stone watched me from the tunnel walls. Their crystalline skin flashed blue with my spinning light, their dark eyes surrounded me with shadow.

The suit filled my body with its need: to fight, to flee, to do something, anything, other than lie on the bedding Valya had brought us and wait. Weapons did not wait. Weapons were drawn, swung, stabbed, deployed. Weapons acted, architects waited.

“I am not a weapon,” I whispered, head down, so my chest absorbed the echo of my words.

The suit disagreed. So we paced.

“Tan?” Lad emerged from the domed building. One by one, my team was checking on me. Lad stammering and worried, Natasha observant and silent, Mizra complaining, and Aleksey, still brimming with wonder, his nose-rubbing smile always on his face.

The suit wanted to leave them here, in the dust of a ruined world. Because collectors waited. Weapons did not.

“Tan?” Lad matched my pace, cast his worrying gaze to my crossed arms and the fingers digging into my skin. “
’
Leksey thinks you should sit down because you must be tired after yesterday.” He drew a breath “There is nothing to worry about. Bro is strong. He can look after himself.”

Kichlan? Was that what they thought I was doing, fretting for Kichlan all alone in the Mob-infested city above? True, he and his team had returned to the surface despite my best attempts to convince them to do otherwise. Perhaps that would have made more sense. Perhaps that would have made me a better person, worthy of his love. But I tended to agree with Aleksey –
’Leksey
, Lad had decided to trust him, then – and believed Kichlan could handle himself.

Or, I could go to him. Just climb the ladder, break the door, then out into the city, Mob and the veche be damned! I didn’t even need to climb if I just gave in.

I shook out my hands, tried to make the fight inside me look like nothing but a need to ease sore muscles.

“I am okay, Lad. Tell Aleksey I am just not very good at doing nothing.”

He nodded, serious. “He would believe that.”

Lad did not leave immediately. He hesitated, half-turned, then remained by my side. “Am I being a good Half, Tan?” he asked, fidgeting as he walked. “Fedor says I’m very important, because there aren’t very many Halves any more. He says that long ago everyone, even pion-binders, knew about Halves. People used to listen to them and do what they said, because Halves could talk to the Keeper, and everyone loved the Keeper back then. Halves had power too, all of their own, different from pions and debris. But it’s like this street, now. All buried. All broken. Almost gone.” His fretful, intense eyes met mine. “But I don’t have any power. And bro used to listen to me, and Miz, Uz, Tash and Sofia too, but I don’t think I ever told them anything important. What if I’m not good enough at being a Half?”

I swallowed a sudden, sharp anger. Damn Fedor. This was the last thing Lad needed to worry about right now. “Lad.” I took his hands, and calmed his fingers. “I think you are a wonderful Half. You always tell us what the Keeper says, even when he is crying, even when he is scared or upset or not making any sense. He is lucky to have you. We all are.”

He frowned. “But I don’t have power, Tan. What power am I supposed to have?”

I sighed. “I’m sorry, Lad, but I don’t know. No one does, not any more. Not even Fedor. That must have been a very, very long time ago. So long no one can remember.”

He looked to his feet, his expression glum.

“But we can’t worry about that right now. We need to focus on the present, not the past. We need to help the Keeper now, do the best we can. And we can’t do that without you. We need you, Lad. You will help us, won’t you?”

Lad straightened his shoulders. “I can, Tan. I will not worry about old things. I will do the best I can. I will be a very good Half.”

I watched his back as he returned to the domed room. Then I sat by the legs of one of the Keeper statues. I placed gentle fingers over one of the bands on my wrist. The symbols struggled there, surging and crowding under my touch. But I could still feel him. Lad, his symbol so solid and strong.

I wished Fedor would leave the past well alone. What did it matter, really, what Halves used to be and what power they might have had? It made as little difference to us as the old Unbound society did. We had to survive the here and now. The past was gone.

By the time Aleksey and Mizra made their next attempt, I was walking again. Fingers still pressed to the symbols, marching in tune with the flux of the suit, the rise and flow, the tugging.

Mizra came first. I almost did not hear him.

“You need to sleep,” Mizra said.

“Concerned for the child, are you?” I asked him, with more acidity than he deserved.

Mizra shook his head. “Tanyana, I wish you could have understood. We were only ever worried about you. Just as we tried to help Sofia, we try to help you.”

“Why? What business is it of yours?”

“You are our friend.” He placed a hand against his side, against the scar beneath his clothing, where he had once been joined to his twin brother. “The world isn’t fair, Uz and I can’t fix that. But we will still do what we can, and offer support to those who need it. To those we care about.”

I turned away from him. Perhaps I had judged him harshly, seen what I wanted to see, misread his concern for me as a desire to tell me what to do. It was too late now, anyway. I could hardly book surgery with Edik with the Mob on my trail.

Aleksey gave me enough time to start pacing again, before he tried.

“You really should rest,” he said, matching my pace.

“I don’t trust you,” I hissed at him, “and I’m not going to talk to you. So don’t even try. Just leave me alone.”

“Come now, Tanyana, won’t you hear me out? It’s for your own good.”

I spun, and my suit unwound a fierce, sharp blade before I could control it. But I didn’t even get close to him. Aleksey raised one of his own, just as fast, just as sharp. He blocked me.

His expression remained calm, reasonable, despite our swords. “What have I done to deserve this?”

Shaking, I withdrew my suit. It fought the whole damned way. “I don’t even know you. And you know more than you should, you work your suit far too well, and I’m not a fool. I won’t let another person betray me.” Not another Devich, Tsana, or Natasha. “So just leave. Get away from me, and my team. Go or I will– I will kill you!”

Aleksey shook his head, expression hurt. “You don’t have it in you to kill me, Tanyana. And anyway, I’m only here because I care about you.”

I started pacing again, striding away from him. “Just go! Leave me alone.” He was right. No matter what the veche drilled into me, I was no weapon, nor had I ever been trained to use one. Could I really kill him, like I had killed the Hon Ji Half? Would I let him force me to do that again?

“I only care about you, Tanyana. I only want you to make the right decisions, to choose the right side, to keep yourself safe. Please, remember that.” Then he left me in peace.

I half expected Natasha to follow in their wake. But although she might be a Hon Ji spy and apparently well-equipped assassin, she was still Natasha. One failed attempt to convince me was enough for her.

I was left alone again, with the suit and the statues. Was he with me, the Keeper? Following at my heels and worrying in his own, otherworldly way? I did not trust the suit enough to check. I feared that if I allowed it to slip metal over my face as I had done so many times before, I would not be able to regain control.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered into the darkness. Into the stones.

Freedom. The answer came in the twitching of my muscles, in the whirring of symbols. Freedom, and dominance.

“You won’t get it,” I hissed the words, choked over them. My throat was tight. My lungs full. My tongue thick. “Not over me.”

Stalemate.

It was difficult to breathe. I placed hands on my abdomen, readying for the attack. But none came.

“This will get us nowhere.”

Agreement. A softening. I leaned against a statue of the Keeper, cheek close to his chiselled one and relaxed my clawed hands. “I will not give in to you.” And yet, I had never known strength like the suit gave me. There was power in its silver and in its secrets. It tried to kill my child; it tried to take me over. But still…

Thoughts of Natasha came unbidden. Fighting the Mob, the veche. The puppet men. What had I said to her? We have a common enemy.

I straightened. “We are powerless like this. Divided, bickering over one body. Unless you want to stay down here, hiding, we will need to fix this. We need to come to an understanding.”

Curiosity.

I stepped back from the statue, ran a hand over the half-face of the Keeper. That poor, broken soul. We had been doing this wrong from the beginning, following the Keeper on his desperate quest to stay alive, returning paltry caches of debris to him. Even joining the Unbound and attempting to raid laboratories. It was doomed from the start. I’d understood that, even while I tried to convince myself otherwise, cursed like a march through the Other’s neverending hells.

I should have known this from the moment the puppet men appeared in Grandeur’s graveyard. Or earlier, as soon as I’d realised Devich had betrayed me. The first moment the suit drew its own swords.

We could not help the Keeper. I could not close his doors, I could not maintain the balance between worlds. Such grand designs were the products of his shattered mind. I had to accept my role; I had to come to terms with what the puppet men had made me.

I was a weapon. Weapons do not create; architects create. Weapons do not protect; guardians protect. Weapons destroy.

But maybe that was not so terrible. After all, we had a common enemy.

“I offer you a bargain.” I turned, stared at the thin sliver of lamplight emanating from the crumbling rock tunnel. Lad was right, wasn’t he? I should do what was necessary, risk anything – even myself – to look after my team. To help those I loved. “Obey me, work with me, and I will give you a fight. A true challenge.” Could I trust the debris inside me to keep its word if it agreed? “We are a part of each other, we need to get used to that. But if I can trust you then, only then, I will set you free.”

A thrill of exaltation. Not triumph. Just pleasure, just loosening, just the need. I gasped as it flooded up from ankle to neck, from wrist to wrist. Oh that strength, that power. The endless silver and the shining light!

It was me; I was suit. Together, nothing could stand in our way.

Not even the puppet men.

“Can you be patient?” Every last inch of me shivered with the effort of drawing the suit in, of forcing it to wait. “Soon. Soon.”

I should have seen it from the beginning. The puppet men had made me into a weapon. I was not a guardian, as the Keeper was. I was not a spy like Natasha or a revolutionary like Fedor. I was not a Half, or a protective brother.

So I would show the puppet men just how strong a sword they had fashioned. And I would stop them. Destroy them. Every last one.