by C. Gockel
Ardghal’s quiet voice cut through the silence. “And yet, Niamh, she chooses to go. Can we prevent her?”
Aria stared at Ardghal. He was one of the older ones, gaunt and strong and silent. The question was odd.
“What do you mean, can you prevent me? I imagine even now any one of you could physically prevent me. You’re all much stronger than I am. But that’s not the question, is it?”
Niamh nodded for Ardghal to answer. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant.
“We have choices, but we cannot interfere with you. Not the way you can with us, I imagine. If you choose to go on the mission, we can tell you the risks, and attempt to change your mind, but we cannot prevent you from going. Not physically. I doubt it would be possible to lie to you directly, and it would be difficult to deliberately deceive you. That is a right that we do not often have, and rarely use.” Ardghal glanced at Cillian, who nodded agreement.
Aria felt her understanding slipping, then caught at a thread. The Fae had something in common with Petro then. She pondered the thought, not quite sure she understood, and tucked it away for later. Something to discuss with Owen.
“Right then. You have not changed my mind. I choose to go. I appreciate your desire to protect me.” She smiled, trying to seem properly grateful. “But I believe I ought to go.”
Cillian and Niamh locked eyes across the circle, and Cillian nodded minutely.
Niamh turned her gaze on Aria. “We have more to discuss among ourselves. You should rest. Eat. We will leave at 8:00.”
The dismissal was clear.
Aria trudged toward the other end of the platform, making her way toward the lanterns scattered about. She was unsure what to do. The books were intriguing, and she was sure there was some message Dandra meant for her. There was also all the material Owen had obtained from the H Street facility. Her eyes burned with exhaustion, and she knew she should rest. Instead, she looked for a face she recognized.
She saw Bartok first, and meandered over to where he was lying on a bedroll, legs stretched out and arms crossed behind his head. A notebook lay open next to him, pages filled with cramped writing.
He blinked up at her. “You’re back. Was it as bad as you expected?”
She dropped to sit beside him and leaned forward to put her face in her hands, hair falling forward. Her voice was muffled as she answered. “Nothing bad happened. I think. But it was confusing.” She sighed heavily. “Everything is confusing.”
Bartok sat up and patted her shoulder once. She could feel his awkward sympathy. They didn’t know each other well enough for it not to be awkward, but she obviously needed some comfort.
She sighed again. “Is Gabriel looking at the hard drives yet?”
“I don’t think so. He’s touchy. You might want to leave him alone right now.” Bartok frowned more deeply at her.
“It’s not my fault. Is it?” She tried to keep her eyes on his, but felt her gaze slipping back to the floor. Isn’t it? You meant to help, and yet you made it worse. Possibly. Maybe. How can you know? Delusions of heroism. Trying to earn love, as if Owen needed your help, out of everyone here.
Bartok put one finger under her chin and lifted her face, waiting until she met his eyes again. “No,” he said firmly. “It isn’t your fault. You meant to help. And you did. It was brave, and I’m sure Owen appreciated it. Jonah certainly does.” He withdrew his hand but kept his eyes on hers. His voice softened. “He’s married, you know. His wife is out at the safe haven with their two children. They’re five and eight. You helped make sure they didn’t lose their daddy.”
Aria’s face crumpled and she buried her face in her hands again. “And sacrificed Owen to do it! How can we know what is right?”
It’s not Bartok’s fault. Don’t take it out on him.
“Do you know where Forestgate Imperial Security Facility is?” She sniffled as she looked up again.
“No. Gabriel would. Why?”
“That’s where Owen is. Probably.”
Bartok’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I’ll go with you if you want to see Gabriel. If you think it’s important.”
“I’ll tell him what we’re doing. But I don’t think any humans should go. Except me.” She hunched her shoulders. The thought terrified her, but she didn’t want to admit it.
“What are you doing?” Bartok asked.
“We’re going to try to rescue Owen. It could be a total disaster. But we’re going to try anyway.” She scowled furiously at her clasped hands. “I don’t want to, exactly, but I need to. To be able to live with myself.” She felt tears welling and brushed at them furiously. “I’m not brave like this, Bartok!”
He put both hands on her shoulders and leaned down to meet her eyes. “None of us are. We do what we need to do. That’s all.”
She sighed. “They told me to rest. I probably should.” She forced a smile. “I bet you were a good pediatrician.”
Pleasure flashed across his face. “I enjoyed it. I hope I can do it again someday.”
“I’d better go see Gabriel.” She didn’t want to face him.
Bartok pushed himself to his feet and helped her up. “You got it.” He led her away from the group toward an alcove near the entrance to one of the tunnels. An electric lantern shed some light, but she didn’t see him. “Gabriel?”
“Yes.” The answer was a little hoarse. Aria realized he was sitting with his back against the wall closest to them, his boots barely visible.
“Aria wants to talk to you.”
“What does she want?”
She heard papers rustling and stepped forward, despite the unfriendly tone of his voice. She gave Bartok a smile she hoped was reassuring.
“Do you want me to stay?” His question was for both of them.
“If you want.” Gabriel’s frown could be heard, even though she couldn’t see it yet. Aria shrugged, and Bartok followed her closer.
She dropped to sit across from Gabriel, not looking at his face yet. Bartok knelt beside her.
“I wanted to tell you that we’re going to try to rescue Owen. Cillian and Niall and I went to see Petro. He gave us some information that might help.”
“Who’s Petro?” Gabriel set the papers aside.
Aria took a deep breath. “I’m not really sure. Someone, something, they’re very frightened of.” She didn’t know how much she should say. It seemed that the more she knew, the more complicated and tangled things became, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to draw Gabriel into the confusion too. “Something old and powerful.”
Gabriel leaned forward and rubbed his hands hard over his face. His shoulders were tense, and she felt a sudden rush of sympathy for him. He was tired, under the pressure of leadership, and grieving, and she knew she was part of the cause.
“I think it will work out. I think we’ll get him.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt.
Gabriel looked up. “Do you know Colonel Grenidor?”
“I met him. He’s the one who arrested me after Owen took my tracker out. Niall said he leads the experimental program.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It will be fine. If it goes well, he’ll have Owen for less than 24 hours. Owen will be hurt, but he will be fine.
Gabriel’s eyes shifted away. “Yes.”
“Do you know him?”
“Yes.” Gabriel did not meet her eyes. He hunched forward a little, frowning, then said, “I’ll ask for volunteers if you have a plan to retrieve him.”
Aria swallowed. “I don’t think anyone should go except Cillian and me. I think it’s going to be dangerous. I wouldn’t ask it of anyone.”
Gabriel met her eyes for a long moment. “I would.”
Am I wrong? Would more people be better? But there is more to risk that way. With only Cillian and me, I think it could work. If not, then only we two die with Owen. I think that is best.
She reached out to put one hand on his arm and he twitched in surprise. “I think it is best if it is only
Cillian and me.” She chewed her lip and continued quietly, “The other Fae will provide cover. That way if we fail, which seems likely, you won’t have sacrificed any of your fighters. You need to keep going. It’s important.”
Gabriel held her eyes for a moment longer, then nodded once. “Understood. Where is he?”
“Forestgate Imperial Security Facility.”
Gabriel blinked. “I think we have the plans for that one. Would you check?” he asked Bartok.
Bartok nodded and stood.
“You have the plans?” Aria asked incredulously.
Gabriel frowned, doubt in his eyes. “Jonah worked at the Department of General Services before he was identified as noncompliant. He copied or stole many of the plans for various facilities before he went underground. It was amazing work; it was gutsy and also very useful. We stole most of our equipment and weapons in early missions that relied on those plans. I think Forestgate might be among the facilities we have plans for, but I’m not positive.”
They sat in silence for so long that Gabriel pulled the papers toward him again. “This is some of the material Owen retrieved from the H Street facility. I imagine the hard drives have more, but Jonah is still getting a computer set up. It’s complicated. They’re trying to find power to tap into that won’t be obvious. Converters. We have a couple old laptops but nothing that’s designed to work with the mil spec removable hard drives.”
“You can do it, though, right?”
“Jonah can do pretty much anything with a computer. It’s just taking a while to get everything set up. Then longer to read it, if everything is encrypted.” Gabriel peeled off the top few pages and handed them to her. “This is on the brainwashing and such. If you want to read it.”
Bartok came jogging back. “No. We don’t have that one.”
Aria let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Now what? How do we plan, then?”
Bartok handed her a book. “I thought you should see this, though.”
“What?” The book was Memories Kept, the book that had started her wondering about the past.
Bartok reached over to open it. “Jenison was going through the books you brought from Dandra’s, trying to find a common theme, and he found your bookmark. Did you draw this?”
She stared down at the slip of paper. The uneven triangle of paper was torn from one of her pages of thesis notes; it was covered with the penciled ends of words. A black symbol had been drawn on it, the tip just barely protruding from the bottom edge of the book pages when the book was closed. “What is it?”
He stared at her. “It’s a cross. The Christian symbol. You don’t remember?”
She blinked. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t think of any details. “Not really. I mean, I remember the word Christian, but I never knew much about them. What does it mean?”
“You didn’t draw it?” Bartok and Gabriel were both staring at her.
“No.” She shook her head.
“There’s more.” Bartok turned the paper over to the back, and Aria recognized the shape of the crumpled paper that had been in Dandra’s hand the evening Aria had first seen Owen.
The note read, “You must execute your escape plan. You have one day before the soldiers come for you. Petro.” The writing was in crisp black ink, a precise all caps print except for the name Petro, which was written with a subdued flourish.
He wrote it on my bookmark, and I put the bookmark in the book when I reshelved it. Dandra didn’t have the book out when we left that night. How did it get in her hand when we were outside?
Silence.
“Huh,” Gabriel said finally.
Aria rubbed her eyes. “This is interesting, but we’re planning a rescue. I don’t have any idea how to do that, so any advice would be welcome.”
Gabriel sighed. “Who’s going?”
“Cillian and me. And I guess some of them to provide cover from the walls. We’ll need guns.”
“Let’s talk with them, then.” He scooped up the papers.
Aria led the way back across the platform. “Resistance fighters don’t have coffee, do they? I’m really, really tired.”
Gabriel chuckled softly. “Sorry, but we don’t have any.”
Aria sighed. “I thought not.” Just one more trivial comfort that didn’t apply to her life anymore.
The Fae looked up coolly as they approached and said nothing as Aria, Gabriel, and Bartok sat down near them.
Gabriel took a deep breath and Aria realized with some surprise that he was nervous. Nervous about the Fae? About the rescue? About everything, she concluded. He didn’t know them well and probably found them unpredictable. I should feel the same way. Maybe I’m just too tired to be nervous.
“Aria tells me you’re planning to try to rescue Owen. Based on the statements of Petro?”
“Yes,” Cillian answered.
“Can you trust him?” Gabriel frowned.
“We believe he did not lie. It is highly likely there is relevant information he is withholding for his own purposes.”
Gabriel sat back. “So, the explanation I got from Aria is that Petro is old, and scary, and dangerous. And yet you believe he’s telling you the truth. Why on earth would you believe that?”
Cillian and Niamh glanced at each other. Niamh answered, her voice quiet. “I am not sure we understand your question. Why would one not trust Petro’s words?”
Bartok and Gabriel stared at them. Finally, Gabriel said, “Huh.” The single syllable betrayed confusion, and Cillian frowned at him.
“Petro’s statement was clear. What is there to doubt?”
Gabriel tilted his head slightly as he stared at them. “You don’t think he might lie to you?”
“No.” Cillian looked confused by the suggestion.
Gabriel rubbed both hands over his face and sat back. “Fine. When?”
“Tonight at 9:00 at Forestgate Imperial Security Facility. Second basement floor,” Aria said.
“Why then? I thought you would want to heal first.” Gabriel addressed the question to Cillian.
Cillian nodded. “That is the time Petro specified. It is possible that Owen will not survive past that time, or that he would be moved somewhere else or otherwise be inaccessible if we wait.”
“But you don’t know that. And not to put it too bluntly, but none of you are up to much of a fight right now.”
Cillian blinked slowly. “That is immaterial. We cannot wait longer.”
Gabriel said after a long moment, “I will ask for volunteers to provide cover if you wish.”
Niamh frowned slightly, then nodded. “Yes. That would be acceptable. Appreciated.”
Cillian stared at Aria, but spoke to Gabriel. “You should convince Aria that it is unwise for her to go. Perhaps you can be more persuasive or authoritative than we were.”
Gabriel turned to study Aria for a moment. “Why do you think she should not go?”
“She will be a liability. We cannot protect her, not as weak as we are, and I will need all my strength for Owen.”
Gabriel glanced between Aria and Cillian.
“Also, we owe her a blood debt and are obligated to keep her safe until we know it is paid. But we have not the right to prevent her from going if she chooses. Perhaps you can assist.” Cillian’s clipped voice betrayed his irritation.
So much like Owen! When he spoke that way to me, he had reason to, even though I didn’t understand at the time. Maybe I should listen to Cillian now.
Gabriel studied Aria. “And you? What do you say?”
Aria raised her chin. “I think Petro wanted me to go. The information was given to me. Either the rescue will succeed, or it won’t. But it might have better chances if I’m there.”
Gabriel continued looking at her, then smiled faintly. “I think she has the right to decide. If she believes she should go, maybe she should.”
Niamh and Cillian glared at him.
“Do you feel no obligation toward her? She is a
human, as you are, and you are the leader of the human resistance. Does that mean nothing to you?” said Cillian.
Gabriel stiffened. “She is an adult, and neither a coward nor a fool. She makes her own decision.”
Ardghal, who had said nothing thus far, reached forward to put a calming hand on Cillian’s tense arm. He murmured, “Humans are baffling.”
Cillian’s nostrils flared, but he nodded once, sharply. “It is as you say.”
Niamh stared at Aria, her glare turning more thoughtful. “Perhaps, if she survives, we will gain useful information from her. Obviously, humans see things differently than we do. Perhaps we may discover something enlightening.”
Gabriel waited, tension thick in the air, until he said finally, “Will ten be enough to provide cover on the walls?”
“Yes,” said Cillian.
“Then I’ll leave you.” Gabriel rose, and Bartok followed him without a word.
Aria didn’t know what to do, but felt the cool irritation in Cillian’s gaze and decided that she would go sleep after all. You’d think I’d rather stay awake for my last hours, but I’m tired. Maybe the rest will help.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabriel shook her awake. “I found them. They were in the papers Owen brought out.”
“What?” she blinked at him blearily.
“Schematics! Come.” He helped her to her feet and pulled her across the platform again toward the Fae.
“What time is it?”
“7:15. There’s not much time.”
He thrust the papers in front of Cillian. “We found these. Look.”
They spread the papers out and studied them in silence for a moment. “Hm,” Cillian said finally.
“What?” Aria asked.
He glanced up at her. “I do not think you should go.”
“We’ve discussed this already! I’m going.” Aria glared at him.
His mouth tightened, and he said finally, “Then it will be only us. Niamh, Siofra, Conri, and the humans should stay on the walls and cover us. This is likely suicide. Owen would not wish us to sacrifice more on his behalf.” He frowned at the schematics again. “We will enter through the front. Petro said Owen was on the second basement floor. We will use this access stairwell and search the floor from this side.”