Seven Dreams

by English, Charlotte E.

  ‘Go,’ Teyo said a few moments later, apparently on signal from Iyamar.

  They proceeded in this fashion through several winding corridors and down two long flights of stairs. After entry, the next challenge was to discover where the keys might be hidden, but Teyo had waved away this question. In the heart of the Warren, as it was sometimes known, there was a room — the “Heart” — devoted to the use of the Yllandu leader and his or her closest associates. Anything of particular value would be stored there. Getting in was no small task, of course, but Teyo had sought help there too. The extent of his knowledge and his connections surprised Serena a little, and she began to wonder just how deeply involved in the organisation Teyo had been.

  Their path wound down and down, and still no one was to be seen. This seemed far too much to hope for, even if Teyo’s allies were extensive indeed, and Serena’s misgivings grew.

  She stopped. ‘Tey...’ she began.

  ‘I know,’ he said grimly. ‘This is too much.’

  They had spread out somewhat on the way down. Bron had insisted on taking the lead, citing “combat training” as his reasons, and Egg had taken up a position at the rear. Serena waved them back.

  ‘Something’s amiss,’ she said. ‘Teyo’s good, but even he couldn’t get us a free ride right into the heart of the Warren.’

  ‘Haven’t seen hide nor hair of anyone, ahead or behind,’ said Egg. ‘It’s not right.’

  Bron shrugged. ‘So maybe it’s a trap. It’s too late to worry about that. We must be close to the Heart by now?’

  He directed the question at Teyo, who nodded. ‘Almost on top of it. But there’s a big job on tonight, that’s why we picked the timing. It might just be that.’ He sounded doubtful, but Bron was already nodding enthusiastically.

  ‘Then we go on,’ said Bron decisively. ‘Whatever’s waiting up ahead, we can deal with it.’

  Serena frowned. Her instincts told her to withdraw, but was that option still open to them? And, much as she hated to admit it, perhaps Bron was right. If most of the Yllandu were out, and Teyo’s friends had decoyed the rest, a quiet walk is exactly what they’d get. They should at least try to secure the keys; time was running short, and they didn’t have the leisure to be indecisive.

  ‘All right,’ she said curtly, gratified to note that her team waited for her approval before they moved. They proceeded down one last, shadowy flight of stairs and around a long, winding, echoing corridor, its walls featureless. A pronounced chill hung in the air.

  ‘Here,’ Teyo said then, and stopped before a nondescript door. It was identical to the others that lined the walls, and she could see no possible way for Teyo to identify it as special.

  He took out a key. Not a Seven Dreams key, but a normal door key. To Serena’s astonishment, he inserted it into the lock.

  It was no ordinary lock, of course. It bore some of the same security features as the LHB’s offices, but the technology was a little different. The key Teyo held looked ordinary, but when he turned it, lights flashed and a buzzing noise sounded, brief and sharp.

  ‘You have a key?’ Serena hissed.

  Teyo nodded. His face was impassive, but she detected a hint of pain, and shame, lurking in his eyes. ‘Don’t ask,’ he said softly.

  Serena very badly wanted to ask; she began to suspect it might be her duty to do so, in fact. How could Teyo possibly have a key to the Heart of the Warren? A valid, functioning key? His involvement with the organisation had ended years ago... hadn’t it?

  Now was not the time. An instant’s lurking suspicion entered her heart, only to be immediately dismissed. Teyo’s loyalty was above question; she couldn’t seriously doubt him, not for more than a moment. Whatever his explanation might be, she trusted that it would be sound.

  He paused before the door, head slightly tilted as though listening. Serena heard nothing, but she detected a brisk movement at the floor as Iyamar-the-meerel whisked underneath.

  A moment later, the door swung open. Teyo stepped back, astonished and alarmed, but there was no time to retreat. A woman stood in the doorway, beaming.

  ‘Come in!’ she said, with a grand sweep of her arm. ‘We’ve been expecting you!’

  A curse from Egg split the air, and Serena whirled. Egg had resumed guarding their rear, to no particular avail; behind her had appeared a quartet of grim-looking men, two of whom had seized her by the arms. Egg twisted and struggled furiously in their grip, but uselessly.

  Teyo swore. ‘Denaya—’

  ‘Is loyal to the Yllandu,’ said the woman with another smile. ‘Reluctantly, perhaps, but she knows which side her bread is buttered.’

  Denaya, presumably, was the woman who had admitted them. Serena watched with pain as Teyo’s face crumpled, and his shoulders dropped. He sighed and stepped into the Heart, and Serena had no choice but to follow.

  The room beyond was a surprise. Compared to the featureless corridor outside, its decoration was positively sumptuous. Expensive rugs covered the floor, tapestries hung from the walls, and a full complement of furniture built from silvery glostrel and bronze silner wood was arrayed around the room. But the chamber bore no formality whatsoever. The chairs were well-stuffed and comfortable, and there wasn’t a hint of stateliness about the place.

  ‘Have a seat, do,’ said their self-appointed hostess. Her words were friendly, but an edge of steel in her voice advised against arguing with her. Serena, Fabian, Bron and Egg sat, the latter with some less-than-gentle assistance from her captors. Teyo didn’t so much sit as fold into a chair, as limp as a ragdoll.

  There was no sign of Iyamar, which gave Serena a moment’s hope.

  ‘And the other one?’ said their hostess, and accepted a small, dark, furry shape from one of her henchmen. She held the tiny creature up to her face, eyes narrowed. ‘I suggest you change back,’ she said, patting Iyamar ungently upon the head. ‘It would be so easy to squash you by accident, and wouldn’t that be a shame?’ She set the meerel down upon the floor, and a moment later Iyamar-as-human appeared, glowering.

  ‘Have a seat,’ said the woman pleasantly, and after a moment’s futile glaring and pouting, Iya obeyed.

  Something about the woman was familiar. There was a distinctive curve to her lips when she spoke, and she had a way of holding her head slightly to one side that jogged Serena’s memory. Her hair was curly and blonde, rather than white, and her posture and demeanour were different, but Serena felt certain of who she was talking to.

  Before she could speak, Fabian shot to his feet. He had maintained a stony silence up until now, or perhaps he had merely been absorbed in his own reflections. His sudden energy startled Serena, and she stared at him in mingled dismay and alarm.

  He stared intently at their captor, studying her face with feverish eagerness. His excitement grew, together with his disgust, and in another instant he spat upon the floor.

  ‘Valore Trebel,’ he announced in tones of withering contempt. ‘It’s you, isn’t it? I have a sketch. I know that it’s you.’ He advanced on the woman he’d called Valore, ignoring her henchmen completely. ‘I hoped we’d be seeing you. Second-in-command down here, aren’t you? You’ve done well for yourself since you killed my father.’

  Valore, if it was she, had taken an involuntary step back as Fabian advanced upon her, but she took no more. She straightened her shoulders and laughed into Fabian’s face. ‘What, me? Many of us are murdering bastards, it’s true, but I am not one of them. Killing is so messy. I do not think I am this person you seek.’

  ‘Fabe,’ said Serena warningly. ‘That’s not— that’s Halavere Morann.’

  Fabian blinked. ‘So it is,’ he said after a moment. ‘Then they are one and the same.’

  ‘They are, as it happens,’ said Halavere, with a slight bow and a mischievous smile. She waved away her henchmen with a cool smile which irritated Serena and incensed Fabian.

  ‘You may not have killed him directly,’ he spat, ‘but you were responsible. He killed himsel
f after you took everything he had! You and your friend.’

  Halavere’s head tilted. ‘Which friend?’

  ‘Bironn Astre.’

  Teyo stirred. He caught Serena’s eye and shook his head, his eyes wide. Yes, she thought. I’d love to stop him, but it’s too late. She had seen Fabian like this once or twice before, and when he worked himself into this state he was unstoppable.

  Halavere’s smile broadened. ‘Bironn, Bironn,’ she repeated. ‘Poor sap. He really wasn’t up to much, was he? But I still can’t recall...’

  ‘Thomaso Carterett,’ bellowed Fabian. ‘A respectable landowner! A good man, with a wife and children — you cheated him out of every penny he owned—’ He was working himself into a frenzy of rage, but he was brought up short as Halavere — or Valore — began to laugh, heartily and helplessly.

  ‘You poor, foolish boy,’ she said at last, when her unseemly mirth had ceased. ‘Thomaso Carterett, a respectable landowner? A merry tale!’

  Fabian blinked, opened his mouth, and closed it again. ‘What?’ he finally croaked.

  Serena’s breath stopped. Instinctively, she looked at Teyo.

  He gazed back at her, eyes full of sorrow.

  Serena closed her eyes, her hands balling into fists. Her heart knew what was coming. When she looked up, all traces of mirth had faded from Halavere’s face, and her eyes were hard.

  ‘Thomaso Carterett wasn’t a mark,’ she spat. ‘He was a partner. A double-crossing, faithless worm who tried to cheat his friends out of their share of the profits! That card game was a goldmine, and he tried to take the lot.’ She shrugged. ‘He got what he deserved.’

  Fabian tried to hurl himself at her, but he was instantly caught and restrained by two of Halavere’s brawny henchmen. He struggled and kicked, cursing. ‘It’s not true!’ he bellowed. ‘Lies, all lies! He was a good man!’

  ‘Oh, I know it’s hard to hear,’ said Halavere. ‘You should be grateful. He was a friend, once. At least we granted him the dignity of an apparent suicide.’ Her eyebrows went up as Fabian tried again, futilely, to hurl himself upon her. ‘Don’t,’ she said coldly. ‘The deed was not mine. Bironn’s is the hand that did for your noble father.’

  Bironn’s may have been the hand, but Halavere’s had been the mind; Serena felt no doubt on that score. Nor could she seriously doubt Halavere’s story, as desperately as she might wish to. Her anger was too intense, too ferocious, too real. Here was an old story that still rankled.

  Besides, she was not wholly surprised. Thomaso had been a changeable man. At times he had been hearty, congenial and affectionate, and at others cold, secretive and judgemental. He had spoken of “business” arrangements without explaining what they were, even as his children — his beloved son and heir, in particular — had grown to adulthood. And some of the associates he invited to the house... they had left Serena alarmed, Fabian cold and their mother anxious. Thomaso had treated Fabian with clear favour throughout their childhood, and they had been very close, but even he couldn’t explain the mysteries of their father’s behaviour.

  Her heart hurt. For herself, for her mother, but mostly for Fabian. He had idolised their father growing up, and had never truly got over his death. But worst of all, Serena knew that the same thoughts that were passing through her mind were also passing through his; that as desperately as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t, any more than she could.

  He had the look of a man whose world had come crashing down, and who was fighting violently to deny it. Serena found herself on her feet — she didn’t remember standing up. She fought her way to his side, flailing blindly at the men who still restrained him, and wrapped her arms around him.

  ‘Fabe,’ she said against his chest. ‘Fabe. You’ve got to calm down.’

  He didn’t hear her. It didn’t matter. Halavere ignored his cursing, her own anger vanishing beneath her earlier veneer of cool unconcern.

  ‘We’re wasting time,’ she said. ‘I can’t let you have the keys.’ She checked her timepiece, and nodded once. ‘By now, my associates have finished ransacking your rooms. It was obliging of you to leave your bolthole unguarded. I’m sure my colleagues are grateful.’ She flashed a humourless smile at Serena as she spoke.

  She had nothing further to add, apparently, for she swept out of the room without another word, or even a glance for her captive audience.

  With a burst of desperate strength, Fabian tore himself free of his captors and ran after her. Serena stood, frozen in surprise and dismay, for a few agonisingly long seconds; then, shaking herself, she ran to the door.

  There was no sign of Fabian, or Halavere.

  ‘Tey,’ she gasped.

  She heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor behind her, and whirled just in time to see Teyo flooring the second of Halavere’s guards. This was a vision of Teyo she’d never seen before, or even dreamed of. All his mildness was gone. He bristled with fury, and wielded his height and his bulk with unsuspected skill. He left two inert bodies sprawled upon the floor, and turned to Serena.

  ‘I’ll find him,’ he promised.

  In an instant, he was gone, leaving the wreck of their team in shocked silence behind him.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Teyo felt for Fabian, but it was the look on Serena’s face that broke his heart. Fabian thought only of his own pain, but Serena’s eyes had gone straight to her brother; the look in them proclaimed that for every ounce of her own pain, she felt Fabian’s tenfold.

  Worse, the appalling shock of such a revelation could have been averted, if only Teyo had been braver. He’d known the truth about Thomaso, for he had met the older man once or twice during his later years as Yllandu. He’d never been able to find a way to tell Serena, let alone Fabian. If the vision they’d held of their father’s character comforted them, who was he to tear that away? He had put it off indefinitely, hoping that the truth would never reach them. How foolish that now seemed.

  Well, if he couldn’t be brave before, he could be brave now. He left Serena to the dubious care of Egg, Iyamar and Bron and tore off after Fabian. He and Halavere could be anywhere in the Warren. Teyo began a methodical search room-by-room, his eyes and ears straining for any signs of activity.

  It didn’t take long. As he neared a staircase leading up towards the surface, he heard sounds of a confrontation: shouts, blows, and something falling. Heart pounding, Teyo raced around the corner.

  Fabian had caught up with Halavere, or Valore, as she was halfway up the stairs. Fabe probably hadn’t got anywhere near his quarry; her two guards had intercepted him, and they weren’t holding back. Neither was Fabian. His dark eyes burned with an emotion far beyond mere rage, and he laid about himself with his fists, oblivious to how wholly outmatched he was.

  Teyo couldn’t reach him in time. Fabian took a hard blow to the head, and fell. His skull cracked, harshly and audibly, against a stair, and he lay still.

  ‘Idiot boy,’ muttered Halavere. She continued on her way without a backward glance for Fabian — and therefore, she didn’t notice Teyo. Her guards followed, leaving Fabian alone.

  Teyo ran to Fabian. It didn’t look good. He was slumped with the boneless, helpless posture of a broken doll, and blood poured into his eyes from a dark, violent gash on his head. His eyes were rapidly developing a glazed look.

  ‘Fabe,’ Teyo said urgently, snapping his fingers in front of his friend’s face. ‘Come on, focus.’

  Fabian’s eyes focused briefly, and he tried to sit up. ‘Tey... I...’

  ‘Hey, now. Take it easy.’ Teyo pushed him gently back down. ‘We’re getting you out of here just as soon...’

  He trailed off as Fabian sagged limply back to the ground. All expression faded from his eyes and he stopped trying to speak. In a few seconds, he stopped breathing as well.

  Running feet sounded from the floor below, and an instant later Serena stood beside him, Egg and Iya and Bron not far behind her.

  ‘Serena—’ said Teyo warningly,
but he couldn’t prevent her from pushing past him. She fell to her knees beside her brother and began a desperate attempt to wake him — too late, and far too little.

  At last, she stopped, and sat back on her heels. An awful hush descended.

  ‘Serena?’ Teyo said at last.

  She didn’t look at him. Her eyes were fixed on nothing, her face blank. She was far too quiet for Teyo’s comfort. Bron approached, words of pointless comfort dropping from his lips. Teyo ruthlessly shoved him away before he could so much as touch her.

  ‘Don’t,’ he growled.

  Serena ignored it all. ‘Tey,’ she said slowly. ‘Egg, Iya. I’m going to need you.’ She touched her brother once, lightly, on the forehead, and stood up.

  ‘Anything I can do...’ Teyo said wretchedly. His shock was fading, leaving him vulnerable to a slew of unwelcome emotions. Crippling guilt warred with sick despair, leaving him feeling weak and nauseous. If he’d done something sooner — if he hadn’t uselessly kept secrets — Fabian wouldn’t have died.

  Serena smiled at him, but it was an odd, distant smile without warmth. ‘It isn’t your fault,’ she said, touching his arm.

  How like her to guess at his thoughts, and to take a moment to reassure him, even at such a time. It should have comforted him, but it only deepened his pain: she didn’t deserve this.

  He opened his mouth, but Serena placed a hand over it, silencing him. ‘Hush,’ she said. ‘There’s no time. Get us out of here, Tey?’

  Teyo nodded, and glanced, painfully, down at Fabian’s sprawled corpse. ‘What about—’

  ‘Leave him,’ said Serena, turning her back on her brother. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  Teyo blanched at that. ‘It doesn’t—’

  ‘No,’ Serena interrupted. ‘We’re going to fix this.’

  A feeling of grave foreboding knotted in Teyo’s gut. ‘What are we—’