Facing the Gray

by Carol Beth Anderson

  A few seconds later, Sall looked away, releasing his gift. “He mostly feels frustrated and helpless,” he told Narre. “But I’m not sensing any animosity toward us. I think he’s telling the truth.” Narre nodded, and Sall took a step toward Ash. “What do you think Konner will do when he realizes his plans have failed?”

  Ash didn’t hesitate in answering. “He’ll figure out another way to take Cormina for the Grays. It won’t take long. He probably already had some sort of backup plan.”

  Sall nodded. “That’s what we thought too. So the rest of the Golds are going to look for him at the festival. They’ll do whatever they can to capture him.”

  “They’ll capture him?” Ash’s mask covered the smirk on his lips, but the tone of his voice conveyed his dubiousness.

  Narre stepped forward to join Sall. “Yes. Just like we did with you.”

  “Considering that Konner has black powder weapons and his own personal crew of corrupt safety officers, I’m guessing he’ll evade a group of small-town kids. But let’s say your friends manage to bring him here. What’s next?”

  Narre said, “We’ll tell him to give up his plans of taking over Cormina. He’ll have to bring the Grays under the authority of non-gray councillors and Savani shepherds. The council and shepherds will make sure that all the Grays, including both of you, keep your magic secret. In return, we’ll agree not to tell anyone what you’ve all been doing and planning.”

  Ash felt laughter demanding to escape his chest, but he refused the urge. “And if he says no?”

  “We’ll hold onto him until we can find trustworthy safety officers who will take him into custody,” Sall said. “With Evitt on our side, and now the two of you, we have plenty of evidence against him.”

  “But we hope it doesn’t come to that,” Narre said. “If you’re prosecuted, the truth of gray magic will get out. We can’t let that happen, so we’d all prefer for Konner to agree to our terms.”

  Ash turned to look at Wrey. For every ounce of skepticism he felt, he saw equal quantities of fear in her eyes. The Golds’ strategy was doomed; couldn’t they see that?

  He couldn’t keep up his fake politeness any longer. Ash turned back to the young man and woman in front of him. “How long did it take you to come up with this so-called plan? A whole day?”

  Narre’s eyes widened, and she exchanged a glance with Sall.

  Ash laughed. “I wasn’t far off the mark, was I? Konner, the most strategic person I’ve ever met, has been scheming for years. And your little group thought you could take him down with a plan that’s got more holes than a sponge?”

  “We didn’t even know what Konner was doing until Evitt came to us last night!” Narre protested.

  “Can you suggest a better plan?” Sall asked Ash.

  Ash looked at Wrey, but her head was bowed again. He turned back to Sall and Narre, all his amusement gone. “No,” he said. “I can’t. I have no idea what Konner has planned, but whatever it is, I doubt we can stop him now.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “We beg of him, ‘Sir, come not near.’

  We seek to dodge his fateful call.

  My friends, why do we waste our fear

  On Death, a stranger to us all?”

  -From Relin the Fierce, Author Unknown

  The Golds, minus Sall and Narre, walked back toward the Liberation Day celebration. They’d left the bombs hidden beneath some thick shrubs next to the dress shop. Tullen felt far more confident now that they weren’t walking around with the things, though he wouldn’t feel truly comfortable until they’d found a safe way to dispose of them.

  “Is everyone clear on their roles?” Pala asked.

  They each answered in the affirmative. Tullen nudged Tavi and whispered, “Plan ahead, or you’ll fall on your behind.” It was Pala’s favorite phrase, and true to form, she’d drilled them on their plan half a dozen times before leaving the midwife house. Tavi’s eyes crinkled, and quiet laughter escaped from behind her mask.

  Once they reached the throngs in front of the council building, Tavi and Jenevy broke away. They would walk through the crowd, watching for anything suspicious. Most of all, they’d be looking for Konner Burrell. Tullen continued toward the building’s marble steps, along with Pala, Reba, and Evitt.

  “Can you hear me?” Tavi’s murmur reached Tullen’s ears, which were warm with magic.

  “Loud and clear . . . or rather, quiet and clear,” Tullen replied.

  With difficulty, he and his companions made their way up the congested steps of the council building. On the platform, he waved at Reba and Evitt. “Good luck,” he said, though he doubted they could hear him over the noise of the crowd. They both headed to the railing around the platform. Reba would use her gray magic to look for Konner. The long, felt feathers on the top of her mask shadowed her eyes, making the gray glow less noticeable. Next to her, Evitt would be ready to literally disappear into the crowd and catch Konner if Reba spotted him.

  Tullen followed Pala, who was moving swiftly toward the council building’s doors. She knew what Konner looked like, thanks to a reconnaissance trip to the bank, and she was determined to find him if she could. Pala pushed through the throngs on the platform with no shame, even when she bumped into a child and received a murderous glare from the boy’s mother. Tullen gave the family an apologetic smile, remembering too late that his mask hid the expression.

  They both entered the lobby and walked through the space multiple times, looking for Konner. When this proved fruitless, they walked down the right-hand hallway that led to the rear of the building. They stopped in front of a closed door labeled “CHAMBER.”

  The burly safety officer standing there glared at them, lifted his hands from his sides, and stretched his fingers. Bright, golden magic filled his hands. Tullen didn’t know what the man’s magic did, and he didn’t really want to find out.

  “This door will remain closed until the council session ends.” The officer’s voice was so rough, it sounded like he’d been swallowing glass.

  “Pardon us,” Tullen said. They turned around and returned to the lobby.

  “Maybe they’ll let us into the gallery upstairs,” Pala said.

  Tullen shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.” They walked around to the opposite hallway and continued past the carving of Relin, all the way to the stairs at the end. Another safety officer waited there. He was as serious as the first, but his face was young, with wide eyes and smooth cheeks. He wasn’t the least bit intimidating.

  Tullen pushed his mask onto the top of his head and gave the officer his most disarming smile. “We missed the beginning of the session. Can we go up now? We’ll be quiet.”

  “No, sir. Not while they’re in session.”

  Next to Tullen, Pala squared her shoulders and her jaw. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  The safety officer’s eyes widened. “I—no, ma’am, I’m terribly sorry—”

  “Of course you don’t,” Pala said. “I’m a midwife, and I’m quite sure I caught you as you emerged from your mother. It must have been twenty years ago?”

  “Nineteen,” the young man mumbled.

  “Oh yes, nineteen. I remember you well.” Pala lifted an eyebrow, and though her gaze didn’t leave the young man’s face, he crossed his arms and took a small step back, as if he feared she really did remember what he’d looked like, naked and screaming, nearly two decades earlier.

  “Thank you for—for helping my mother,” the man stammered. “But I can’t let you—you understand, right?”

  Pala’s voice grew shrill. “No, I don’t understand! You gave me quite a scare when you were born; I had to slap your little rump at least three times to get you to breathe. The least you could do is let me tiptoe up and watch the rest of the session!”

  “Well, I suppose . . . if you’ll excuse me . . .” The safety officer blinked hard, and when his eyes opened, they were full of light. “If you’ll turn around, please. I’ll just be looking to see if there�
��s anything metal on you. Knives and such.”

  Pala gave him a withering look before lifting her arms and performing a slow pirouette.

  “Very well, ma’am, but please keep it quiet, if you could. Please. Ma’am.”

  Pala’s impatient expression disappeared in an instant, replaced with a wide smile. “You were a good boy then, and you’re a good boy now,” she said, patting his cheek before walking past him.

  Tullen tried to follow, but the safety officer moved into his path. “Sorry, sir, just the midwife,” he said.

  Tullen wanted to argue, but then he remembered he wouldn’t pass the young man’s magical inspection. He had a sheathed knife inside his waistband, just in case. So he smiled and said, “I understand, it’s your job. Thanks for letting her go up. She was really looking forward to that.”

  The safety officer nodded.

  Tullen pulled his mask back down and turned toward the lobby. As he walked, he asked in a voice quieter than a whisper, “Pala wasn’t a midwife nineteen years ago, was she?”

  Tavi’s soft laughter entered his ear. “Not even close.”

  Tullen smiled. “I don’t see Konner anywhere. I’ll go check on Evitt and Reba.”

  “I’ll listen to Pala, but I’ll check in with you and the others soon,” Tavi said.

  Tullen fought his way outside and found Evitt and Reba at the top of the steps where he’d left them. “How are things?” he asked.

  Evitt turned. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s something we want you to see.”

  As she’d promised, Pala kept her steps soft on the stairs. At the top, she stopped and listened. Not hearing anything, she peeked into the hallway. Empty. She took a cautious step forward.

  Pala had watched council sessions a few times and knew that the balcony gallery was accessible from hallways on three sides. Pala stood at the corner of two of them, long passages with fancy rugs running down the middle. The walls were stone, and each hallway had two doors that led into the gallery. On either side of each door, a white column protruded from the wall.

  The hallway to her right led to a dead end, so Pala took the one on her left, stopping just before the corner it shared with the third corridor. Pressing her shoulder against the wall, she inched her face closer to the corner until she could see around it.

  Immediately, she pulled her head back. Halfway down the hall, a man knelt, his back to her.

  His back is to you, you ninny. Pala gave her head a quick shake and took a deep breath before peeking again. He was kneeling next to a column and seemed to be fiddling with the bottom of it.

  After a few seconds, there was a muffled sound, a cross between a pop and a crack. The man set a bright white piece of wood to the side—part of the column’s base. Pala frowned. Was he some sort of maintenance worker?

  Without pausing, the man reached into his back pocket, pulling out something smaller than a deck of cards. Seeing the light glinting off it, Pala thought, It looks like a metal matchbox. But why would a maintenance man need a matchbox?

  Oh. Pala’s heart jumped in her chest, banging at a pace that couldn’t be healthy. She squinted, examining the scene more closely. The man shifted, and again light glinted off something metal. But this time it was an object inside the column’s base. An object that looked all too familiar.

  And now that Pala thought about it, the man’s clothing looked nicer than that of a maintenance worker. And the build—yes, the build was right. Hair color, too. It was him. It had to be.

  Pala swallowed a sudden sob. She gave her head another swift shake, insisting to herself that she stay calm. She had to get word to the others. Tavi and Tullen had insisted they could hear her no matter how quietly she spoke, as long as one of them was focusing their gifted ears on her. Please, Sava, let them be listening. She breathed out a few phrases: “Konner is up here. I think he’s planting bombs. Get everyone out of the lobby. I’ll evacuate the gallery.”

  Pala hadn’t been aware of her plan until a split second before she’d said it, but she knew it was the only way. She scurried down the corridor on silent feet and turned to the hallway opposite the one where Konner knelt. She would open the first door there and begin a whispering campaign. It needed to be a silent exodus, to avoid alerting Konner. She didn’t know if that was possible, but she had to try.

  Pala reached the gallery door. She grasped the handle, lowered it, and pulled.

  The door held fast.

  Her forehead wrinkled, and she tried again. No luck. There was a keyhole above the handle, but why would the door be locked with the council in session?

  With dread growing in her chest, Pala rushed to the next door. It, too, was locked.

  “He’s locked them in,” Pala whispered. “I’m trying the other doors, but I think—I think he’s locked them in.” Oh, how she hoped someone was listening.

  She had to keep trying. Pala went back to the connecting hallway. First door: locked. Second door: the same.

  She wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t allow such an indulgence. Kneeling, she tried to look through the keyhole, not sure what good it would do but unable to think of a better plan. She couldn’t see anything through the tiny opening.

  “Can I help you?”

  Pala jumped at the sound, rattling the door handle. She stood and looked straight into the face of Konner Burrell. He appeared calm, unafraid, and so terribly normal.

  “I was hoping to go in there,” Pala said, wondering if the man in front of her could see the blood pulsing in her neck, could hear the breathlessness in her voice.

  “No need to go in.” The edges of Konner’s mouth rose in a tiny smile.

  Pala forced herself to stare in his eyes. He knows I know. She didn’t know how she’d discerned that, but she was sure it was true. A tear slipped out of her eye and down her cheek. “Stop the bombs,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this. Not with all the people here. Please.”

  Konner’s eyebrows rose. “What does a woman like you know of bombs? What’s your profession?”

  “Laundress.” She wasn’t sure why she lied.

  Konner tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, then took a step closer to her.

  Pala turned and ran.

  But Konner was fast, so much faster than he looked. In a second, he grasped her skirt, and a moment later, his boot connected with the back of her knees so hard that she was on the ground, wind knocked out of her, before she could even register pain from the kick.

  She tried to scream, but he was on top of her, his hand on her mouth. How had he gotten there so fast? Pala wriggled, but it was useless. Konner ground his knee into her back, and then his elbow circled around her neck, pressing against it so hard that when his other hand came off her mouth, she still couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry, couldn’t breathe.

  Black smudges teased the edges of her vision, and then darkness rushed in, replacing the rich colors of the rug with the thick nothingness of a shuttered cellar. And what a bargain this darkness drove, for it stole all she was feeling, every bit of pain and hopelessness and fear. And in exchange it left her with nothing at all.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  We do not train children, but future adults. It is an important distinction. As they prove they are ready for it, we must give our students the gift of independence. Sometimes we must give it before they are ready. And before we are.

  -From Training Sun-Blessed Students by Ellea Kariana

  Tavi and Jenevy pushed through the crowd.

  “You’re almost there,” Reba said, her voice loud in Tavi’s ears.

  “Tell me what you see,” Tullen urged.

  “You have a much better view than we do,” Tavi said. “We see hundreds of people in black. It’s the most boring crowd of people I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Can you get closer to Camalyn?” Tullen asked. “Reba says she’s at the very front, near the center.”

  “I’m trying,” Tavi said, “but I still don’t understand why.”

  Several minutes ear
lier, Tavi had checked in with Tullen. It was supposed to be a quick check-in so she could go back to listening for Pala, who’d only been upstairs for a short time. Tullen had informed her that Reba had spotted Camalyn.

  Tavi had spent long, frustrating minutes arguing with him about what to do with this newfound knowledge. She’d finally agreed to approach the Karites, along with Jenevy. But no one seemed to know what to do from there.

  “If you can get close to Camalyn, maybe Konner will be nearby,” Tullen said for what must have been the fifth time.

  “That’s the last place he would be!” Tavi said. “Camalyn’s followers aren’t supposed to know she’s associated with him. Ask Evitt; he’ll agree with me.”

  So many revelers surrounded Tullen that he wasn’t even trying to keep his voice low, and it rang in Tavi’s ears. “Well, what’s it going to hurt for you to at least—”

  A BOOM interrupted Tullen. Tavi thought it was a clap of thunder, but some part of her mind rebelled against that interpretation, for the sky was nearly cloudless. Then she heard screams.

  “Bomb!” Tullen said, his voice panicked. “In the council building! We’re on the steps; we’re getting away!”

  “But we got them! We got all the bombs!” Tavi cried. She didn’t care about people overhearing her. Everyone was in a panic, and she could barely hear herself.

  Jenevy tugged at Tavi’s arm. “What happened?”

  “A bomb in the council building.”

  Jenevy pointed up. “Look!”

  Tavi raised her gaze to the left side of the council building where smoke erupted from a window. No, not a window, there weren’t any up there. It must be a hole in the wall. Even from this distance, she thought she could smell the acrid smoke and taste it on the stagnant air. She looked down, about to say as much to Jenevy. But Jenevy wasn’t there.