Banebringer

by Carol A Park

  “Was she the one sending monsters after us?”

  Vaughn blinked. “What?”

  “If your hypothesis is correct, and she’s summoning monsters…could she have been sending them? It sounds like it’s pretty unusual for the bloodwolf and bloodhawk that attacked us to have acted as they did as well.”

  He had pondered that before, but he hadn’t seen that connection. “That hadn’t occurred to me. But why would she do that? I was no threat to her after I was gone.”

  A wry smile touched the corner of Ivana’s mouth. “Because you annoyed her?”

  He snorted. “Always a possibility.” He craned his head to look over at what she was translating. “Anything new?”

  “Right now, I seem to have run across a list of epic battles between gods and their outcomes.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Great.” He stood up. “Well…if you don’t mind, I’m exhausted. You don’t have to continue without me.”

  She shrugged and shifted a piece of paper. “It’s fine.”

  She said nothing else and didn’t look at him again as he slipped back out of the room, wanting nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for twelve hours straight.

  When Ivana was sure Vaughn had left, she slid the note from Aleena out of her pocket and spread it out flat on the table, reading over it again.

  They used Xambrian as their “code” because so few people knew it. And in the unlikely scenario that someone, first, got ahold of a message, and second, knew Xambrian well enough to decipher the contents, it probably wouldn’t be someone who was going to run to the Conclave or city guard. Admitting one knew how to translate profane languages, regardless of the content of said message, was a good way to get oneself thrown into prison—or hung.

  Still, that didn’t mean Aleena had spelled everything out in her note. There was no reason to take chances.

  Met K. Ivana assumed that meant the man she had run into, since his name was Kayden. That simple phrase meant a lot. First, it meant Aleena hadn’t been captured with the rest of the girls. That didn’t surprise Ivana. She had trained her well.

  Second, it meant that Kayden had managed to follow her instructions and meet with Aleena. That did surprise her. She had expected the man to flee. That would have been the sensible course of action.

  All accounted for, but not with me. No one had been killed, but they weren’t with Aleena. That, too, hadn’t surprised Ivana, since she knew from Tenoch that there had been no bodies, but that they had been captured. Still, it was a relief to have the information confirmed by a second source.

  Don’t worry about me. Got a job in a workhouse. Will look out for others until you return. In other words, she had managed to get into the workhouses under honest cover, in order to find out what had happened to the girls. This had been the chief source of relief from Aleena’s note. Ivana had trained her to take over the inn if something happened to her, but with the inn and girls gone, she hadn’t been sure what Aleena would do.

  When Ivana had left, she had been wondering if she could trust Aleena at all.

  She was gratified that she had taken it upon herself to continue working as Ivana’s eyes and ears, doing exactly what Ivana would have done had she been there. In fact, she seemed to expect Ivana to return and take over. Ivana, of course, planned to do just that, as soon as she had fully recovered and formulated a plan. Of course, that was difficult when she was being held prisoner and not allowed to contact anyone on the outside.

  K still around. Noble, but clever. Got me better position. So the man had been a noble—and had, incredibly, used his influence to get Aleena in deeper. Ivana assumed he had been serious about doing whatever it took to find Caira. The final part, however, had been the most shocking.

  Assembly has them with the exceptional. Don’t know why yet. Ivana read it for the hundredth time, trying to figure out if it could mean anything other than what it seemed to. But assembly was the word they used exclusively for the Conclave, partially because it was the closest translation into Xambrian of the word, and partially to keep the unlikely person who could read it from automatically knowing what they were talking about.

  Tenoch had hinted that though the girls had been taken to the workhouses, they hadn’t kept them there. It wasn’t unusual for unwanted people to “disappear” from the workhouses. Not too many. Maybe one every six months, or so. No one other than Ivana’s “type” knew or cared, of course. Why should the average person care if a beggar they didn’t know existed in the first place didn’t last long in the workhouses? They were a rough place.

  But to this day, Ivana had never been able to discover where it was those people went. If Aleena’s message was correct…

  They had taken them to wherever the Conclave kept Sedated Banebringers.

  Banebringers had to be Sedated, not executed, due to the practical problem of the monsters their deaths would summon. That left the problem of what to do with the hundreds—thousands, now—of Banebringers who were little more than vegetables. For the safety of everyone, or so the Conclave assured the populace at large, they were kept in an asylum somewhere. They were fed and cared for, but locked up for good. Eventually nature would take its course, since Banebringers weren’t immortal, and the Conclave’s cloistering away of the Sedated also ensured that no rogue bloodbane could escape when one of their charges expired.

  Aleena had managed to infiltrate their ranks at least to the point that she knew where the girls were. It baffled her. Why would the Conclave need non-Banebringer nobodies in the same place they kept Sedated Banebringers? What were they doing in that fabled asylum?

  One thing was certain: if there were answers to her questions, she was being held captive in the second best place to find them.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Fire and Ichor

  The next two weeks were relatively uneventful. No more attacks. No more discoveries. They had finished translating the first book and had almost finished the second. So far, nothing seemed to link the books to the pictures Dax had found on the wall.

  On the fifteenth day, after lunch, Vaughn met Yaotel coming from the research wing. He gestured to Vaughn when he saw him, and Vaughn stopped.

  “Just talked with the woman,” Yaotel said.

  About time. “And?”

  “She stared at the wall,” Yaotel said flatly.

  Vaughn gritted his teeth. No way. He knew he had seen a spark of intelligence in her eyes. She might be crazy, but she wasn’t that kind of crazy. She was baiting him.

  Yaotel must have seen the expression on his face, because he shook his head. “Look, I don’t doubt your story about what she said to you. The researchers confirmed that they saw her talking. But I’m of a mind to think she’s just lost it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Just keep at those books,” Yaotel said. “There must be something there.”

  Vaughn stared after him. He was beginning to think Yaotel was a little over-obsessed with the books. They hadn’t found anything substantial yet, and Vaughn was starting to doubt they would. He understood that Yaotel wanted to know why the woman couldn’t be Sedated, but…

  He turned toward the research wing to peek through the window at the woman.

  As soon as he had a view, she looked directly at him and gave him a wicked smile.

  Alarms started ringing.

  “Bloodhawks again!” Yasril shouted, pointing into the distance

  A chorus of cursing rose from those below, and Vaughn looked in the direction Yasril indicated. Sure enough, three bloodhawks were headed their way, flying close together.

  He sighted the closest and then let his bow drop. They were moving strangely. Then his eyes widened. They were carrying something!

  Yasril had seen it as well. He shouted a warning to the guards waiting in the courtyard below, and then scurried down off the wall.

  Vaughn wasted no time in loosing an arrow, and then another. Two bloodhawks went down, one after the other, but the third hurtled over
the wall with the arrow of another sentry in its wing. It crashed to the courtyard behind the wall and let go of its burden: bloodcrabs, one held in each claw.

  As with all the names they had given bloodbane that looked anything like normal animals, “crab” was a generous term. They were so-named because their bodies were flat, circular shells, they had six or eight legs sprouting from underneath, and they tended to live near water.

  But as always, that was where the resemblance stopped. It was as though someone had taken the idea of a crab and inserted it into their worst nightmare. As if a crab the size of a small bear wasn’t bad enough, their legs, instead of ending in pincers, ended in sharp, needlelike protrusions that could rip a man to shreds simply by walking over him. If you got close enough to one—which wasn’t a good idea—you could see its mouth, hanging open under the shell like a gaping cavern.

  And as with all bloodbane, they were strong.

  Vaughn had once seen one of these things pluck a fisherman from its boat with its front two legs, and then drag him screaming down into the water.

  His body had never come back up—only a spreading stain of blood.

  And now they were inside the wall, thanks to that bloodhawk.

  He finished the bloodhawk before its fury at the injury could do any damage and turned to the bloodcrabs.

  Men backed away from the monsters, and only the stupidity of the crabs kept any of them from becoming the first victim. There were only two bloodcrabs, and two dozen men—the crabs scuttled in one direction, halted, and then in another, confused by all the potential targets.

  Unfortunately, all the confusion was also making it difficult for Vaughn to get a straight line of sight. The shells on those things were hard as steel, and even his aether arrows would have a hard time piercing them if he didn’t place it just right. He had learned that the mouth was the best bet, but that required the crab to rear.

  Which would require it to be attacking.

  He was momentarily distracted by the sound of scrabbling against the wall outside. He looked down and was horrified to see the four crabs that had been dropped by the now-dead bloodhawks trying to wedge their needle-like legs into cracks in the wall to climb it—and they were making slow progress.

  Great. Just great.

  Yaotel’s voice rose above the din. “No!” A few men were trying to seek shelter back in the manor, and one of the crabs had followed.

  They would be slaughtered if they became cornered in the groundsman’s shed.

  Vaughn loosed an arrow, and it stuck in the crab’s shell for a moment and then fell to the ground. It didn’t hurt it, but it did distract the crab momentarily, and then men scattered out into the courtyard.

  Vaughn stared down at the scene in frustration, feeling helpless. Their lack of coordination as a fighting team was never more obvious than it was now. They weren’t even trying to work together. If a few men could corner one, run out, and then let the others attack from behind…

  He hated to admit it, but this was a point in Perth’s favor. If they trained their abilities for combat, they would likely know better how to use them together—and how to work together.

  But who could have imagined they would have to fight against a concerted attack of monsters?

  Another arrow flew through the air, and it promptly skewered the leg on one of the crabs.

  He turned to see Tharqan a few meters away down the wall. “Nice one,” Vaughn shouted.

  Next to him, Tharqan was their best archer, but he wasn’t a moonblood. Tharqan gave him a quick nod and turned back to the skirmish, looking for another opening.

  “Would being closer help?” a voice said in his ear.

  He turned, startled, and then Danton appeared next to him.

  “If I can get an arrow buried hard into its mouth, it’s dead,” Vaughn said.

  Danton gestured to him and Vaughn followed. As the two slipped down the wall, a fireblood named Thrax decided to let loose a little magic.

  He stood with legs spread and hand held out, and fire leapt from one of the torches on the wall and wrapped itself around one of the bloodcrabs.

  Others backed away from the heat and squinted against the sudden flare of light as he held the maelstrom tight.

  The crab shrieked, an inhuman sound that he had never heard a real crab make, and Thrax shouted with glee. “Roast crab, anyone?”

  Vaughn had never seen a Banebringer use their magic in such a way. Apparently Thrax was one of those who was training with Hueil and Perth.

  Vaughn could see Yaotel grimacing, glancing out at the wall, as if expecting a stranger to be peeking over to watch the show. But what could he say? It was either that, or they die.

  Vaughn turned invisible just as Thrax let go. The crab’s shell was black, smoking, and one of its legs had disintegrated, so it stood lopsided on the ground. Still, it struggled to rise.

  The other crab turned from pursuing a man who had blockaded himself in the guardroom, trying to stab its legs through the wooden door, and Vaughn could have sworn its eyes flickered with rage.

  It charged Thrax.

  “Now’s our chance!” Danton shouted. He sprinted behind the crab and then became a blur of color against a horrifying background: the crab reared, and Thrax turned only just then to see what was happening.

  Vaughn darted the other way, lifting his bow as he ran.

  And then, Thrax disappeared. Or, rather, he faded, and in his place was a yapping dog.

  The crab dropped back to the ground, startled.

  It didn’t last long. It reared again, looking down at the dog, but it was too late. Vaughn was already in place. As close as he was, the arrow drove right through the mouth and into the soft flesh under the shell. Perfect shot.

  The crab convulsed in the air and then dropped. The dog ran away, and a moment later turned back into Thrax.

  Danton saluted Vaughn from across the crab and took off in the other direction.

  One convulsing, dying crab, and one blackened husk, smoking in the night air.

  Vaughn barely had a moment to feel satisfied, because a scream tore his attention back to the wall, where the first of the four crabs from the outside were making their appearance.

  Damn.

  Thrax pulled out a jet of fire again, and the first crab tumbled from the wall and landed on its back. Vaughn put an arrow in its underside, just to be sure. The second crab had started scrabbling down the stairs, its needle-legs a nightmarish clicking against the hard stone, and the third went the other direction, directly toward Tharqan.

  Vaughn shouted a warning, and Tharqan took off down the wall toward the other stairs, the crab close behind.

  The fourth crab went up in another flare, but the second had made its way to the bottom and surprised three men who had been taking shelter against the wall.

  Before Vaughn could do anything, it had stabbed one of them through the stomach.

  “No!” Vaughn shouted, and that mobilized everyone else. They massed on the crab, hacking at its shell with aether-enhanced axes and swords. Vaughn turned invisible again, darted in, and dragged the man back. A trail of blood was left in his wake.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  “I need a healer!” he screamed.

  They were already there. A bindblood took the man from Vaughn as he reappeared, and he felt rather than saw the flurry of activity around him as they raced to stabilize him before they had yet another bloodbane to deal with—and who knew what kind. It could be anything from a harmless bloodsprite to the behemoth that had attacked them in the city.

  He couldn’t even see the second crab, surrounded as it was. He turned his attention down the wall, where Tharqan had finally made it down the stairs and was fleeing back toward them, the crab’s needle-legs clicking close behind.

  Vaughn ran straight toward them, lifting his bow. The crab was faster. It reared. Vaughn shot the arrow.

  Tharqan bolted past him, the arrow embedded itself into the crab’s mouth, and before Vau
ghn could slow his momentum to dart out of the way, the damn thing had fallen right on top of him.

  The smell of ichor permeated his hair and his clothes, and he almost vomited when he felt it dripping into the corner of his mouth.

  He managed to avoid getting stabbed by the thrashing of the crab’s legs, and then the crab lay still. He pushed it off himself, disgusted.

  “Vaughn!” Danton was running his way, and Vaughn waved him off as he staggered to his feet. “I’m fine,” he said.

  Danton stopped. “Good. That’s the last one. No casualties.”

  Vaughn glanced toward where the healers had been. They were gone. “What about…?”

  “Bad off, but they think he’ll live.”

  Vaughn closed his eyes and sank to the ground as the energy of the past few minutes seeped out. He opened his eyes and stared dully at the cracked remains of the second crab. Someone had obviously thought to get out a hammer.

  “You all right?” Danton asked.

  “I need a bath.”

  “It was her,” Vaughn said grimly, standing in Yaotel’s office after he had wiped off the worst of the crud from the crab. “I’m certain of it. Every single time I’ve been down there, it’s been followed by an attack. And they keep getting worse.”

  Yaotel was obviously agitated. “Then stop going down there!” He threw his hands in the air and placed them against the wall. “You think she’s summoning them?”

  “If Danathalt is her patron? Likely.”

  Yaotel cursed. “I can’t let her go. I can’t kill her.” He cursed again. “Barton is supposed to have guests arriving tomorrow. How in the abyss am I going to clean up the mess out there?” He whirled on Vaughn, glaring at him. “And for what? We’ve learned nothing.” He ran a hand across his balding head. “I’ve given Perth and crew permission to hone their gifts for combat, but if I don’t come up with a way to stall them, I’m going to have a fight on my hands—right here in the compound.”