Banebringer

by Carol A Park

  She shrugged. “Don’t concern yourself, Danton. I don’t want to get you into trouble. I was just curious.”

  Danton stopped, finally, and grinned. “Guess it can’t do any harm, seeing as you already know about it.” He appeared to tense…and then faded into the wall behind him.

  She didn’t have to feign surprise or wonder. “You’re like Vaughn?” she asked, though there was something different about it. She could see his outline, vaguely, as though his body had made an imprint on the wall.

  He returned to his visible self and shook his head. “No. Vaughn’s a moonblood. He can actually turn invisible, more or less, depending on the phase of the moon. I’m a lightblood. It’s different.” He glanced at her, and then, presumably encouraged by what he found on her face, went on. “Look at that painting.”

  She followed his finger to the painting he pointed at. It was a generic still—a vase of flowers. But as Danton stood pointing, the flowers changed…until the painting appeared to be of a bowl of fruit.

  She didn’t have to feign interest now. She walked over to the painting and touched the frame, and then traced her finger up toward the fruit. It felt solid enough. If she didn’t know any better, she would be positive that it really was a painting of a bowl of fruit.

  Yet, a moment later, the painting shimmered, and the vase reappeared.

  She turned to look at Danton. “Is this like the hallucinations some of you can cause?”

  He grinned and shook his head yet again. “That’s a bindblood. They work on someone’s mind. I’m not doing anything to you, I’m changing what you see.”

  Ivana paused, staring at the painting. Now that could come in handy as well. She wondered if he could change his own appearance. “How?”

  Danton scuffed his foot and flushed. “You know…I…I’m not really sure how it works. That’s not my specialty.”

  She changed the subject. “You didn’t use any aether to do that,” she observed, and when he tilted his head, confusion on his face, she added, “Externally. I’ve seen Vaughn do it.” She held out her hand and rubbed her forefinger and thumb together, as if crushing one of his aether flakes.

  “Oh,” Danton said. “Yeah. Well…Vaughn is a minority in that regard.”

  He started walking again, and Ivana kept pace. “Oh?”

  “I guess there’s some evidence to suggest that when we use aether externally, it creates less of a pull on the other realm. You know, that the monsters come from?”

  What she knew of the “other realm,” as he put it, was limited to what the Conclave preached against and folk tales. But she nodded immediately, careful not to betray any sign of ignorance.

  Thus encouraged, he continued. “So the less we use our gifts, especially by doing it naturally, from burning our own blood, the less we pull monsters through during the sky-fire—in both quantity and strength.” He shrugged once more. “At least, that’s the theory.” He was quiet, but Ivana could tell he wanted to go on, so she remained silent.

  “See—Vaughn thinks we’ve caused enough trouble as it is, just by existing. He says it’s our responsibility to be, well, responsible with the gifts. Not cause even more trouble. So he doesn’t like to use aether from within.”

  “And what do you think?” she asked.

  He chewed his lip, glanced at her, and then ahead again. “Vaughn rescued me from Hunters. Brought me here. I hate to disagree with him, but…” His voice grew stronger. “Well, no offense meant, Da, but I say until people start caring about what happens to us, why should we care about what happens to them?” His face darkened. “We didn’t start this.”

  Fascinating. “No offense taken,” she said, offering a gentle smile.

  Still, he seemed relieved when they turned a corner and arrived at a wide archway. He gestured to it, and she looked through. She hadn’t been searching for Vaughn, but his presence was immediately noticeable, since he sat at the end of a long table alone, even though the hall was relatively full.

  “The dining hall,” Danton said, stating the obvious. “Yaotel said you could come here, so I guess that means you can eat too.” He tapped his foot a few times. “Here, let me show you.”

  Vaughn saw Ivana enter the dining hall, as did many others. Glances and whispers followed them as Danton led her through the tables to the serving area, but no one challenged her, which was a relief. There were some here who took it upon themselves to treat all new Banebringer residents with aggressive suspicion. How would they treat a non-Banebringer?

  Danton hovered by her side, showing her where to get her food. Vaughn was sure she could have figured it out herself, but she let Danton dote on her, and she rewarded his efforts with the smiles and laughter of her sweet, carefree young woman persona.

  Danton walked her over to Vaughn’s table. “So, Danton,” he said with an easy smile after they had approached. “How many questions did you answer?”

  Danton ducked his head and gave his characteristic sheepish grin, but he didn’t respond. He merely inclined his head in greeting and bowed low to Ivana before leaving to lean against the archway, keeping an eye on her as he was supposed to.

  Vaughn’s eyes followed Ivana’s movements as she settled nonchalantly down at the table, as if she did this every day.

  “Well,” he said, after she had set in fully to her meal. “I take it all back. You won’t have to lift a blade to find a way out of here. You’ll just charm all the guards.”

  She ignored him, choosing instead to focus on her food.

  “You won’t find all the guards as friendly—or pliable—as Danton.”

  She set down her fork and wiped her mouth. “So I am a prisoner.”

  He winced. “’Prisoner’ is such a heavy word. It’s not like you’ll be locked in a dank cell with only water and stale bread to eat.”

  She returned to her food. “A well-treated prisoner, then.”

  He couldn’t respond to that, since it was true.

  He observed her while she ate. She was silent, but it wasn’t a cold silence. At least, no colder than normal. “You’re not angry with me?” he asked at last. He had fully expected some negative reaction to the news that she was trapped here.

  “Possibly,” she said. “What, precisely, is it that you’ve done that I should be angry about?”

  He gestured widely to the room. “For bringing you here.”

  “Considering I would likely be dead if you hadn’t, I can hardly be angry with you over it.”

  He studied her, dubious. She seemed sincere enough—or at least, she didn’t seem angry—but she was, among other things, a masterful actress. “But—”

  “I have already gathered,” she said, “that this is a relatively safe place to recuperate and plan my next course of action, so I am content.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll find a way out, sooner or later, and one way or another.” Her eyes traveled around the room, as if at that very moment she was taking stock of her options. They flitted past Danton, and he smiled as he noticed her gaze. She returned the smile and turned back to her food, expression more thoughtful than before.

  Danton was totally smitten—and Danton wasn’t the most perceptive person in the world. Vaughn frowned as Ivana’s words came back to him. One way or another. “You hypocrite,” he said aloud.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

  “You’d sleep with Danton in a heartbeat if you thought it’d get you out, wouldn’t you?”

  She chewed her food deliberately and regarded him silently. He held her gaze, refusing to be cowed.

  “If I thought it would work…” She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  Vaughn snorted. “At least when I sleep with a woman, they know what to expect. Or not to, in my case.”

  “Well, then, there’s the difference between you and me, Vaughn. I know what I am. And I have never pretended to be a good person.”

  He wanted to protest. If she wasn’t a good person deep down, th
en why take care of those women and their children? Why take such an interest in the plight of beggars? But he bit it back. Was he really going to argue that point with a hired killer? She was the definition of contradiction.

  So he changed the subject. “How’s your leg?”

  She returned to her food, mopping up sauce with a slice of bread. “Surprisingly whole,” she said.

  “I saw you limping when you walked.”

  “I imagine an unfortunate side effect of nearly having my leg bitten in two.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “It could be worse.”

  He frowned. Would it kill her to admit that her leg hurt? He was about to press her, but Danton approached. “Begging your pardon, Da,” he said, addressing Ivana, “but if you’re almost done, Yaotel wants to see you and Vaughn.”

  Vaughn grimaced. Great. Danton must have alerted him to the fact that Ivana was awake. She had slept through the remainder of the day yesterday, all night, and through lunch today. Yaotel didn’t waste time. Though Vaughn was sure his excuse for the meeting was to inform Ivana of the terms of her confinement, in reality, Vaughn knew Yaotel wanted to size her up for himself. See if she seemed like a threat.

  And Yaotel was both non-pliable and perceptive. He would see through any attempt on Ivana’s part to charm him in a heartbeat, and it wouldn’t endear him to her. He wanted to warn her, but there would be no chance, not with Danton there.

  He would just have to hope for the best.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Unexpected Foe

  Ivana didn’t ask who Yaotel was as she, Vaughn, and Danton walked down the hall; she had already guessed he must be the one in charge of…whatever it was that was here to be in charge of. Pieces of what Vaughn had let slip prior to coming here locked into place with everything she had learned since waking, and she had a pretty good idea of what sort of place this was, if not where, geographically, she was: a sanctuary for Banebringers.

  She didn’t know how Banebringers found out about and made their way here, but Vaughn had rescued at least one person, so that was one means. Vaughn had also mentioned research on several occasions. Danton had hinted at it as well. That meant it was more than a safe house; they had an agenda, and apparently, if Danton was to be believed, not all of them agreed.

  How they were funded was an unanswered question. The meal she had just eaten hadn’t been stingy. A commoner would be lucky to get meat once a week, yet the kitchens here had provided generous servings for, by her rough count, over a hundred people. And while her surroundings weren’t extravagant, they were well-maintained.

  One disappointment was that, so far, she hadn’t seen a single window. Either that was deliberate, or they were underground. The latter would make sense if they were trying to hide their existence, but that was one less mode of escape, when the time should come.

  They finally stopped outside a door, and Danton leaned toward Ivana. “Don’t worry,” he said, “he’s not as mean as he appears.” He smiled at her and stepped back to wait in the hall, letting Vaughn take the lead.

  A gruff voice commanded them entry, and a moment later, she and Vaughn were standing in the office of the reportedly-formidable Yaotel.

  He was writing, his head bowed over his desk, and he didn’t immediately look up as they entered.

  That was, she was positive, purposeful. It gave the impression that he was the one who was going to control this conversation, not any interloper stepping into his space.

  Best to be straightforward with this one.

  Vaughn folded his arms across his chest. “All right, Yaotel. We’re here.”

  Yaotel ignored him for one more moment, and then set down his pen and looked up at them.

  Ivana blinked.

  She recognized him. It was the eunuch from Gan Pywell’s harem.

  Well. Apparently not.

  And as his gaze fell on her, the slight twitch of his eyebrow and surprise on his face told her he recognized her as well.

  “You,” Yaotel said, rising from his chair immediately. “How did you—where—?” He fell silent, staring at Ivana with furrowed brow, mind obviously working furiously.

  And then his face contorted unpleasantly.

  Vaughn hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been that.

  Ivana lifted her chin and met his gaze coolly.

  They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other, Yaotel clenching and unclenching his fists in turn, before finally he rubbed his hand over his mouth and sat back down again.

  Vaughn had never seen him in such a state. “Uh…do you two know each other?”

  Yaotel ignored him. “Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head, the momentary loss of control now surmounted. “Well, well, well. It appears our friend had help.”

  Vaughn raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ivana. That didn’t sound encouraging.

  But Ivana remained motionless and impassive.

  Yaotel spoke again, addressing Vaughn, but didn’t look at him. “Vaughn, I cannot believe even you would bring an assassin here.”

  Vaughn choked back a reply. It hadn’t been a question, after all, and he wasn’t going to confirm anything until Ivana did.

  “Hmmm,” Yaotel said, eyes flicking toward Vaughn at last, and then back to Ivana. “Well. This changes things.” He stood up, rounded his desk, and perched on the edge. Despite his regained calm demeanor, his eyes were hard. “I was going to give you the details of the unfortunate circumstance that you’ve found yourself in, but perhaps we can come to a better arrangement. Having someone like you around could be useful, if you’re willing to play.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Ivana stirred at last, a frown touching her lips. She met Yaotel’s eyes, unflinching. “I accept payment in one way for my services. Coin.”

  Yaotel returned her frown, and Vaughn jiggled his foot a little. Come on, Ivana. Don’t be so stubborn. It sounded like Yaotel might be willing to let her go, if she offed a few people for him.

  “Besides,” Ivana continued, and then paused to sit down in the chair across from Yaotel’s desk, uninvited. She mimicked Yaotel’s pose from earlier, hands folded behind her head. “I’m taking a break.” And then she propped her feet up on Yaotel’s desk.

  Yaotel gave her a once-over, eyebrow raised. “Have it your way,” he said, returning to his chair. “Very well, Ivana. You now have the privilege of being the indefinite guest of Gan Barton.”

  It was Ivana’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Gan Barton? The most outspoken opponent of the Anti-Sedationists?”

  “I see you know your politics. I’m sure you also know that there’s nothing more satisfying than hiding from your enemies in plain sight, yes?”

  “Barton is a Banebringer?”

  Yaotel’s mouth turned downward at the use of the term Banebringer, but he shook his head. “No. But a generous sympathizer.”

  Ivana was still for a moment, and then inclined her head. “I honestly would never have guessed.”

  “And neither would lesser men—or women. Gan Barton contributes a significant amount toward the expense of running this place—not to mention board in the basement of his rather large manor.”

  “A mere seventy-five miles from the capital,” Ivana murmured. “You have balls.”

  A wry look passed over Yaotel’s face. “I can assure you, they are quite intact.”

  Vaughn was thoroughly confused by this exchange. They obviously had met, but how?

  Yaotel picked up his pen and tapped it on the desk. “I am sure you have already guessed the delicate nature of our situation here, and therefore I’m sure you understand why it is we cannot let you go. I have no reason to trust you, and in fact, every reason not to.” His eyes narrowed. “Especially knowing that you might sell your services to the highest bidder.”

  “I would think less of you if you did trust me,” She put her feet down and leaned toward the desk. “As long as you understand that I will escape
, eventually.”

  “And if you’re caught, I’ll have you executed,” Yaotel said calmly.

  “Then I’d best not get caught,” Ivana returned, without missing a beat.

  “Do I need to keep you locked up? I had intended to give you freedom to go where you please within the common areas of our compound.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be planning an escape any time soon. Like I said, I’m taking a break. But I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m thinking of it. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy.”

  Yaotel regarded her silently for a moment, and when he spoke next, his voice bordered on dangerous. “Let us be clear. I don’t trust you. I don’t like you. If you give me an excuse to get rid of you, I will take it without hesitation. In fact, the only reason I haven’t already done so is because Linette would have my head, and I need my bindbloods cooperative.” He glanced at Vaughn. “And Vaughn, for whatever misguided reason, seems to trust you.”

  Ivana said nothing.

  Then Yaotel turned to Vaughn. “I want you to know that I hold you directly responsible for anything our uninvited guest does.”

  Vaughn rolled his eyes. “I figured as much.”

  “I’d recommend bedding her as soon as possible. That way I can be sure you’ll no longer be a potential ally, and you’ll be off the hook.”

  It wasn’t the first time someone had repeated back to him the stark reality of his own casual encounters with women, but for some reason, this time, he found himself fighting back the urge to argue. Instead, he shrugged. “Can’t say I haven’t tried,” he said, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

  Ivana stood up. “If you two assholes are finished, I have things to do.”

  “Like stare at the paint on your wall?” Yaotel asked.

  “No,” Ivana said, giving Yaotel a wicked smile. “Like make other allies.” And without even a glance at Vaughn or asking permission from Yaotel, she left the room.

  Yaotel didn’t stop her. Instead he raised an eyebrow at Vaughn. “I think perhaps you’ve taken on more than you can handle this time.”