Banebringer

by Carol A Park

  Nothing happened right away, but after a few minutes, one of them began to stir. Of course, it was Ohtli.

  She blinked, looking up at Vaughn groggily.

  “Come on,” he said. “You have to get up. Shake it off.”

  She didn’t move, and Vaughn tried to pull her up. She found the strength to pull away. “You’re with them?” she asked, shrinking back.

  “With who?”

  Her head was obviously clearing. “Them. The priests. They’re trying to turn us into Banebringers, or something like that.”

  Vaughn gaped at her. That’s what they were doing? Was the corpse-thing some sort of gross failure? His stomach turned as he thought about the possibility that it had once been a human being.

  No time for theorizing right now. “I’m with Ivana,” he said. “And some friends. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  That woke her up. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stumbled as she tried to stand, and Vaughn helped her. “Where? Where is she? We knew she’d come…”

  Other women were waking up now. One was already sitting up.

  “Guards!” Danton shouted.

  “Look, try to get the rest of the women together. We’re in a bit of a pinch here.”

  Danton backed away from the door, and a moment later, the entire room turned into…

  A jungle?

  The women were animals. Vaughn turned around. He had a tail.

  The grim-faced guards who entered the room halted, confused. “What in the abyss?” one muttered. Where Tharqan had been a moment before, now stood a lion, and it roared at them. The guards backed away. “This is crazy,” one of the guards said. “Damn priests and their experiments. They can’t pay me enough to deal with this.”

  Apparently, the others agreed, because the guards left, and Danton dropped the illusion. He stumbled back, gasping.

  Vaughn rushed forward. “Take it easy,” he said. “Sit.”

  “That…took a lot out of me,” Danton said.

  “Yeah, you turned an entire room into a jungle.”

  “Was it pretty impressive, at least?”

  “You couldn’t see it?”

  “I think I sort of blacked out for a moment. It was weird.”

  Loss of blood. “Just rest. No more illusions for a few minutes, until you feel better.”

  Danton nodded, but Vaughn was concerned. They had all used a lot of magic that night, and while their blood would regenerate nearly as quickly as they had used the magic, they could overdo it.

  The women were fully awake now, some of them scared witless by seeing all of their friends turned into jungle animals. They huddled together in a group, looking at Vaughn, Danton and Tharqan with wide eyes.

  Tharqan took up the post at the door. “I hear something,” he said.

  Vaughn looked at Danton. His eyes were closed, and his face pale. He couldn’t help this time. Vaughn readied his bow, arrow held loosely on the string…

  “It’s us,” a voice said, and then Ivana and Aleena appeared.

  Vaughn let out a breath, relieved, and put the arrow back in his quiver.

  “Where’s Yasril?” Danton asked.

  “He went ahead and took the children out,” Ivana said. “They’ll meet us later.”

  Then there was no more time for talk. The women surrounded Ivana, effusive in their adoration of their rescuer. They hugged and clung to her, some of them crying.

  She looked a little overwhelmed and patted one of them on the back. “There, there,” she said. “We’re getting you out. Don’t worry.”

  “We knew you’d come,” another woman said. “We knew it.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked. Vaughn had never seen her look so uncomfortable, even in her dress from earlier. She had changed, at some point, and was wearing black trousers and a coarse shirt with a pair of boots.

  “We’re fine,” the woman said. “A little groggy right now, but nothing they’ve done so far has caused permanent damage.” She paused, worry creasing her brow. “The children are out?”

  “They will be,” Ivana said. “They’re in good hands.”

  “I hate to break up this reunion,” Tharqan said, still looking out the door, “but we need to go.”

  Ivana looked at Vaughn. “Buy me another minute,” she said. Her girls were still overwhelmed by the thought of rescue, and most a little dizzy-looking. She wanted to be sure that when they left, they wouldn’t leave any collapsed on the ground behind them.

  Vaughn nodded and gestured to Tharqan and Danton. They held a hushed conference, and Tharqan and Danton slipped out of the room, no doubt to guard more distant points, while Vaughn kept watch over the door.

  Caira was outright sobbing. “Deteen,” she said. “My baby.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ivana assured her. “I promise, they’ll be fine.” The older children would see that the youngest weren’t left behind, and she had full confidence in Yasril’s abilities to get them out—high praise for someone she had so recently met. The children had taken to him immediately; he struck the figure of a kindly grandfather, and they trusted him.

  Ohtli had pulled back and was regarding her solemnly. “You came for us,” she said quietly.

  Ivana waved her hand in the air, dismissing them. “Of course I did, foolish girls. I didn’t pluck you out of misery to leave you in worse.”

  The girls had quieted and were all looking at her—even Aleena.

  Aleena stepped forward. “I think what she means to say, Ivana, is thank you.”

  Ivana shifted. “Are you feeling up to getting out of here yet? We don’t have a lot of—”

  “No,” Zyanya said, cutting her off. “We’ve had a lot of time to talk, and we all agreed, when you came—”

  Caira took up her speech, though through her tears. “You have to know. We know you’re not one for a lot of affection, but what you’ve done for us—”

  “You’ve given us hope,” Ohtli said, still quiet.

  “Made us believe in ourselves again—”

  “Given us back our dignity.”

  Ivana looked around the sea of faces turned toward her. To her horror, she felt her throat tighten, for the first time in a decade. “Foolish girls,” she said again, trying to push it away. “Trust me when I say I’m no one you should honor or emulate.”

  But they wouldn’t let her continue. “We don’t know exactly what happened to you, before you met all of us,” Ohtli said, “but we know it wasn’t anything less than what we’ve been through.”

  “You’ve said it to us a thousand times, in a thousand ways,” Zyanya said, “and not always in words. It’s time you heard it for yourself, because we all agree that you don’t believe it for yourself.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Caira said, tears still shining in her eyes.

  “You deserve better than self-loathing,” Zyanya said.

  “Whatever happened, you didn’t deserve it,” Ohtli finished.

  Ivana choked. Tears rushed to her eyes, before she could stop them. She was afraid to speak. She didn’t deserve this sort of outpouring. They had no idea what she was, who she was, how utterly she had ruined her family by her choices. It was different, so different…

  “They’re right,” Aleena said, standing a little back from the group. “It’s time you started believing your own advice.”

  Ivana closed her eyes, and the tears spilled over. A sob escaped her lips. She couldn’t help it.

  She had heard it said that tears could be cleansing. She always thought it was a ridiculous sentiment, but she felt it now, as tears rolled down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook silently. The girls surrounded her and collectively held her.

  Years of despair and self-hatred and regret washed out in those tears, brought to light by a group of foolish girls who had no idea what they were saying. And yet were only repeating back to her the words she had told them, time and time again.

  She had never felt such love. Love.

 
; She didn’t deserve such love. Damn them all…

  “Our actions may define us,” a voice said in her ear. “But they don’t determine our destiny.” She turned to see Aleena standing there, eyes wet with tears herself.

  Ivana took one long, shuddering breath, embarrassed, uncomfortable, speechless.

  Ohtli pushed everyone back. “Pull it together girls,” she said. “It’s time to let Ivana do what she does best.”

  They all nodded sagely.

  Kill people?

  “Rescue people.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  The Assassin and the Ri

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ivana said, joining Vaughn at the door at last.

  He had tried hard to ignore the conversation ensuing behind him, feeling like an intruder on a private moment, but it was impossible.

  Ivana’s eyes were red, and he looked away from her, uncomfortable, and nodded. Aleena joined them.

  “How is your aether?” he asked them.

  “Running low,” Aleena said, and Ivana nodded.

  “All right. Use it for yourselves, then. I’ll take care of the women. Danton and Tharqan have their own.”

  Ivana turned to give the group of women instructions, and they listened attentively, no arguments. Complete trust.

  Aleena led the way, followed by Tharqan. Vaughn and the women linked hands, with Vaughn in the middle, and Danton and Ivana brought up the rear.

  The entire group slinked down the hall in an awkward chain. If they ran into anyone, it was going to be a challenge getting past them while keeping them all invisible, but they had to press forward.

  The halls were strangely quiet, and it unnerved Vaughn. Even with the fight above drawing the guards away, this was too easy. Aleena led them down different corridors than the ones they had entered through and headed for a different exit.

  They had just crossed a large chamber, and the women were starting up the stairway, when Vaughn heard a familiar voice from behind the group.

  “You didn’t really think I would let you leave, did you?”

  Vaughn froze. Aleena looked back down the stairs, while Ivana turned toward the source of the sound.

  How had Gildas seen them?

  Then he realized he could see Ivana and Aleena looking toward the sound. Their aether was failing—either because it had chosen this moment to be finicky about who was using it, or because they were running out. Either way, Ivana’s figure was solid again, while Aleena’s was flickering in and out.

  Gildas was headed for Ivana.

  He glanced back up the stairway, where the entire group of women had also halted, waiting for Vaughn. “Don’t stop,” he hissed. “Go!”

  Danton and Tharqan re-appeared. They moved among the women, linked hands when them, and then the entire group disappeared. Vaughn let go of his own invisibility, hoping that Danton and Tharqan had enough to keep them hidden for a little longer.

  Aleena pushed her way back. “Deal with it,” she said. “I’ll make sure they get out.”

  Vaughn reached for his bow, heart hammering. Could he kill his father? It would be so easy, right now. Gildas wasn’t even trying to move out of the way, just sauntering toward Ivana, and now himself.

  “Go,” he said to Ivana, coming to stand next to her.

  She didn’t budge. “My best chance for the girls to get out is to make sure they’re not followed,” she said. Her eyes were trained on his father almost eagerly.

  Of course. What she said was true, but this was his father they were talking about. The man who had killed her own father, and in so doing ruined the lives of her entire family. She wasn’t going to pass up a second chance to kill him.

  “You can’t do it, can you?” Gildas asked, smirking at Vaughn’s bow. His arrow was still held loosely to the string. He hadn’t even tried to draw.

  Stupid. He could have killed him five minutes ago. He remained silent, ashamed. Yet was it ironic to be ashamed that he couldn’t work up the nerve to kill his father? Shouldn’t that be admirable?

  What a life he led.

  Gildas’ eyes flicked to Ivana, who had slid her dagger out of its sheath. “Ah, the assassin. I wondered if this all had something to do with those women we took from your inn. But how did you convince my worthless son to help you? A trade, perhaps? His services for yours?” He unsheathed his sword, not a dueling sword, nor ceremonial, like all weapons were supposed to be in the ballroom. “No matter. Will you dance with me again, girl?”

  Ivana didn’t move.

  “Where is your syringe?” Vaughn asked, trying to take the attention off Ivana. Perhaps he could distract Gildas and she could slide that blade in. There were two of them, and only one of him. “Why don’t you just inject me and get it over with?”

  “Oh, no,” Gildas said. “I’m tired of Hunting you, boy. I want you gone, for good.”

  Vaughn blinked. “But—”

  Gildas’ expression changed from relaxed to fierce. “Summon a whole swarm of them, for all I care.” He tilted his head to the side. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

  Vaughn raised an eyebrow, confused, but then he realized Gildas was talking to Ivana, who had slid around to the side, trying to get into a better position. She paused in her movements.

  “But I feel as though we’ve been playing this game for so long I ought to give you a fair chance. A duel?”

  “You know I’ve no skill with a sword. That’s hardly fair,” Vaughn said.

  “Very well. You choose your weapon then.”

  He licked his lips. It didn’t matter what weapon they chose. He had no skill with melee combat—at least, not enough to win against Gildas.

  Vaughn flicked his eyes to Ivana’s. She was looking back. They had both had the same thought, and a small smile played on her lips. But could she take him? He raised an eyebrow, and she nodded, ever so slightly.

  “Daggers. I assume you have one on you? And Sweetblade will stand for me.”

  His father frowned. “That’s—”

  “A tradition with plenty of precedent. You’re the one who wanted one last game. You’ll change the rules now?”

  Gildas shrugged. “Very well. But if I win, she dies, and so do you.”

  Vaughn jerked his head in acquiescence and stepped aside for Ivana to take his place.

  Vaughn’s father rolled up one trouser and extracted a dagger sheathed there. “Let’s dance, girl.”

  Gildas was arrogant, but Ivana could tell he wasn’t certain of the outcome of this fight. Ivana wasn’t either—she avoided direct confrontations unless necessary, and the last fight she had had with Gildas hadn’t ended so well.

  Once one of them made the first move, it would be over quickly. Fights like this were close and brutal. Whoever got the blade in the right place first would win. He was stronger and larger than her, so she would need to depend on speed and skill to get in the right spot before he could pin her.

  “So,” Gildas said, circling her. “Teyrnon must be paying you very well, as I see you didn’t take my hint, Sweetblade.” His mouth curled up in a smile, as if enjoying the deliciousness of facing the woman he had exacted his punishment on.

  “I don’t need payment to kill you,” Ivana said. It came out fiercer than she intended.

  Gildas raised an eyebrow. “Ah. I see. What offense did I cause you, then? Did I throw your family out of my estate for some indiscretion? Beat your father?” He smiled wickedly. “Sleep with your mother, perhaps? I always did enjoy a good romp with a pretty serving girl.”

  Hypocrite. Damned hypocrite. “No,” she said. “I’m a ‘whore’ your favored son sired a bastard on. But I doubt you remember.”

  She honestly didn’t expect him to remember. He had probably dealt with so many commoners in like fashion that she could have been a bug he accidentally stepped on.

  But to her surprise, he tilted his head thoughtfully. “That girl? I remember. Airell had a beating that smarted for a week after that. Had to learn the rules of playing tha
t game; bastards aren’t good for the family. Cause political trouble if you don’t deal with them early on. One or two slip through every once in a while, of course, but…” He narrowed his eyes. “So. I killed your father. Stupid man threw himself at me. I suppose now you have a bastard child to insist I pay for? Did you not learn your lesson the first time?”

  Ivana didn’t respond to that. “Gildas, if you die at my blade, you can die in the knowledge that it’s what came of your lesson. Congratulations for creating your own murderer.”

  And she lunged.

  The scene in front of Vaughn changed as Ivana lunged at Gildas. He tensed. The two mingled in a tangle of arms and blades flashing. Blood stained the ground, but he didn’t know whose.

  A moment later, Gildas groaned and stumbled back, doubled over. At first, Vaughn thought she had stabbed him in the stomach, but then he realized she had just kicked him in the groin. Not an allowed maneuver in a duel, but he doubted Ivana cared.

  She also didn’t care about giving her opponent time to recover. She pressed the advantage and was on him before he could even stand.

  It looked as though she would win, but then—

  Gildas simply…struck her. His blow hit so hard that she flew through the air for a couple feet before hitting the ground. Her hand smacked against the hard stone, and her dagger flew out of her hand, skittering across the floor out of her reach.

  It was just like it had been back in Ri Talesin’s manor; he had wondered it then and wondered it again now. How did he have such strength?

  “Filthy whore,” Gildas said, straightening. He advanced on Ivana, brandishing his dagger and ready to end the duel. Vaughn had no doubt she would be dead in seconds if he didn’t act.

  Anger lanced through him. He was exhausted. He might very well kill himself. But he burned blood and reached for the water in his father’s body. He stiffened and slowed.