“I am not asha—”
“I saw the scars on your back. I know you suffered great brutality. But that is not all, is it?” She touched his face. “I want to help. I want to understand, and do what I can to show you that—”
Blind with unreasoning anger, Daniel walked out of the apartment. He strode back to the Center and went to his room, where he washed his face and stared at himself in the mirror.
Again and again you test yourself, to prove...what? she had said. That nothing can make you surrender even a little of yourself to another?
She saw into him so easily, Daniel thought. There had been a few lovers since his escape from Erebus, brief affairs with human women that had never lasted. His desires had always been under rigid control. Twice, Isis had punched through those barriers, and the second time hadn’t been a seduction. He’d begun it.
Daniel glanced at the clock. It was late afternoon, and he needed somewhere to go...away from Isis and her soft, sympathetic reassurances, the murmured promises of a woman who was still Opiri. He made certain that he was presentable and walked out into the reception area. Nobody took any notice of him as he left the building and crossed the plaza. He turned immediately for the first human neighborhood Isis had shown him, Bes’s ward. He thought of the people protesting at the depository, wondering if he might find them and speak to them.
Keeping his eyes and ears open, Daniel moved casually past the idle Lawkeepers at the border of the neighborhood. Men and women were coming home from their daytime employment, some dusty from the fields or stained with grease from maintenance work, others in trim clothes suitable to office jobs. Daniel leaned against the wall of an apartment block and watched without paying any particular attention, blending in as best he could.
He loitered as the workers entered their buildings, some greeting children who had been anticipating their return. They behaved like anyone glad to be home after a long day’s work, without sullenness or resentment. But after night fell, Daniel noted some of the men and a few women leaving their apartments and moving in one direction, singly or in pairs. He followed one man along several well-lit streets to a building set apart from the others, the double doors flung open and the sound of music emanating from inside.
Soon after, Daniel smelled the unmistakable scent of alcohol. He recognized the place as a tavern, and when he cautiously entered he found the men and women engaged in loud conversation, drinking and even dancing to the rhythm of a guitar and drum.
The closest Daniel had been to such a place had been the mess in Delos, but alcohol was served only on special occasions. Here it seemed to flow freely enough and, again, nobody seemed to notice Daniel entering the large room. Communal tables were scattered all over the tavern, and the smell of cooking permeated the air, making Daniel remember that he hadn’t eaten in some time.
But he didn’t have any of the local scrip to exchange for food or drink, so all he could do was slip quietly into an unoccupied corner and continue to listen. The people were as varied as they would be in any crowd of humans; only a handful, he noticed, wore Bes’s emblem of a sheaf of wheat sewn on their sleeves or the shoulder of their shirts or jackets.
For the most part, conversation was of the kind one might hear in any gathering: good-natured complaints about work, gossip about fellow humans, jokes and the occasional burst of song.
But at least one group was different. Daniel focused on their speech, blocking out the rest.
The complaints of these men and women were not so good-natured, and their faces were grave and discontented. They muttered rather than speaking loudly, and bent over their drinks as if they held secret messages to be guarded from prying eyes.
“The bloody Games,” said a thin man with a trace of a beard. “They should be done away with.”
“Won’t happen anytime soon,” an older woman said. “As long as so many human citizens take them seriously...”
“And as long as it serves their purpose.”
“Keep the humans distracted, so they don’t realize how much better the Opiri have it in the towers.”
“There’s no proof,” the older woman said. “We can’t know—”
“The human servants who work for the bloodsuckers say they live in luxury,” a big man said.
“Hugh, you know the human servants like to boast to make themselves feel better about working for the Opiri.”
“You’ve seen them parading around the plazas and walking on the causeway at night, dressed like royalty,” the man they had called Hugh said. “Where did they get the clothes and the jewelry? They’ve been keeping what was left at the fall of Tartaros just for themselves.” He swung his bearded head to glare at each of his companions in turn. “I say that we’re lucky to get half the resources the bloodsuckers do, even if we’re the ones keeping them alive.”
“The Nine favor them,” the thin man said. “And as they go, so goes the Council. We’ll never be anything but peons to them.”
“Hush,” the woman said. “That’s enough. It’s too—”
She broke off just as one of the other men at the table noticed Daniel’s clandestine observation and stared straight into his eyes. Daniel looked away, but his lack of food, drink or company was a dead giveaway. He rose and started for the door.
Hugh blocked his exit.
“Who are you?” the man asked in a deep voice. “You aren’t from around here. What do you want?”
“Company,” Daniel said. “I’m new in Tanis, and I’m still getting used to the neighborhood.”
“Oh?” a young woman asked, her short hair dyed bright red and her sleeveless shirt deliberately torn to look worn and ragged. She looped her arm over the big man’s shoulders. “I don’t recognize him, Hugh. Don’t they usually have welcoming ceremonies for newcomers?”
They, Daniel thought. Other humans? Bes, perhaps?
“I asked them not to bother,” Daniel said. “In any case, I was just leaving. I didn’t realize this was a private party.”
“Or maybe you just didn’t want to be noticed,” Hugh said, matching Daniel’s soft tone.
The woman smiled at him. “Why don’t you tell us the truth? It’ll make you feel better.”
The “truth” might serve him well this time, Daniel thought. “I wanted to see for myself if Tanis was what it’s supposed to be,” he said.
“You don’t know?” the man said.
“I’ve seen things—”
“What things?” the woman asked, leaning toward him.
“A demonstration,” he said, “at the blood depository.”
Hugh and the woman exchanged glances. “And that made you curious?” she asked. “Maybe you wondered why people were protesting?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell you,” Hugh said, whispering close to Daniel’s ear. “I think you came here to learn something, all right, but it isn’t for yourself. You aren’t welcome here, and if we find out you’re spying for the—” He stopped, grinding his teeth.
“You think I’m watching you for the Opiri?” Daniel asked. “Why would they spy on you?”
“Just shut up and leave,” Hugh said. “Don’t come back, ever.”
Daniel weighed the man’s words. Hugh was certainly disaffected with life in Tanis, and his belief that the Opiri were spying on humans had clearly been sincere.
But was it a plausible fear, or merely paranoia based on habitual dislike of Opiri? Daniel knew that he was going to need to talk to these people again in the near future. He needed to find out exactly what lay behind their discontent. And he’d have to prove, somehow, that he wasn’t what they thought he was.
“I’ll go,” he said, backing out of the tavern. By now, every face was turned toward the door, and Daniel knew he wouldn’t go unrecognized the next time he entered the area.
Hugh
and the woman stood at the door and watched him walk away. He considered going on into Hera’s ward, but he’d certainly stand out there, as well. Instead, he turned back to Isis’s ward, wondering what she had planned for him now...or if she’d simply wash her hands of him once and for all.
He couldn’t let her do that. She was still his best source of information, and she had met Ares. He would simply have to make sure that he didn’t fall under her—
The sound of conflict behind him brought him to a halt just as he reached the ward’s border. Raised voices were backed by the low rumble of an angry mob.
He glanced at the Lawkeepers at their station. They seemed not to hear. Instead of alerting them, he jogged back toward the tavern.
Arrayed in front of the building were perhaps a dozen humans, both men and women, some with fists raised and others with bottles in hand. Standing opposite them were six ordinary Opiri, white haired and pale skinned, their deep purple eyes filled with contempt. They wore finer clothes than the humans, and bore themselves with the common arrogance of their kind.
“The law says we can go where we choose,” one of the male Opiri said. “This tavern is open to all citizens of Tanis.”
Hugh stepped forward, fists working. “You come here to cause trouble, not to drink with us.”
“Your bigotry against us is apparent,” the Opir said.
The humans growled and shifted. The Opir gestured to his comrades and moved toward the tavern door.
“We’ve been curious to taste your human beer,” he said, “and find out if it is the pig swill they say it is.”
Another man in the crowd stepped forward. “You can’t taste anything but blood,” he said. “And you won’t find any here.”
The Opir bared his teeth. “You are ungenerous with your blood, you humans,” he said. “You would starve us.”
“And you would drain us dry,” Hugh said.
The two leaders strode toward each other, the human with a bottle in his hand, the Opir ready to attack. Daniel managed to get between them just in time, anger and contempt kindling in his chest.
“It’s obvious that you did come here to cause trouble,” he said to the Opiri. “I suggest you leave before someone reports your behavior.”
“Reports?” the lead Opir said. “Where are the Lawkeepers? They care nothing for what goes on here.”
“Bes may feel differently,” Daniel said, working to keep his instinctive hatred under control.
“Bes,” the Opir spat. “He betrays his own kind for the sake of humans.”
And he clearly doesn’t frighten these Opiri, god or not, Daniel thought. He faced the Opir with his hands loose at his sides. “If you start a fight,” he said coldly, “nobody will blame these people for defending themselves.”
“And how will they do that?” a female Opir said. “With their blunt teeth and their weak bodies?”
As if to prove her point, the lead Opir slipped around Daniel and struck at Hugh, knocking the bottle out of his hand and scratching his wrist with long fingernails. He grabbed the man’s arm and licked up the welling blood with evident relish.
Daniel moved before any of the other Opiri could react. He spun around and struck the lead Opir hard across the shoulder near his neck, hooked his foot around the other man’s ankle and sent him tumbling to the ground. He downed the second Opir who attacked him, making no attempt to spare him pain, and was engaged with the third when the rest broke away. They snarled and threatened, but in the end they retreated, dragging the two fallen Opiri away with them.
“My God,” someone said behind Daniel.
“What the hell was that?” Hugh said, clasping his injured wrist with his other hand. “How did you move so fast?”
Daniel expelled his breath, letting the anger go with it. “Training,” he said.
“I’ve never seen a human bring a Nightsider down so easily.”
“It wasn’t as easy as it looked,” Daniel said. He noticed a woman emerge from the tavern with a moistened cloth, which she wrapped around the big man’s wrist. He never looked away from Daniel.
“Why did you interfere?” he asked.
“They attacked you.”
“You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“I doubt it.”
Voices exclaimed and argued. The big man offered his hand.
“I’m Hugh,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t make you angry.”
“Hugh,” Daniel said, taking his hand. “I’m Daniel.”
“And you just got yourself into a hell of a lot of trouble, if the bloodsuckers have their way.”
CHAPTER 8
Daniel looked around at the humans he had just saved. “I should fear the Opiri because I fought back?” Daniel asked, wiping his hands on his pants.
Glances were exchanged, but nobody spoke.
“I’ve met Bes,” he said cautiously. “You’re supposedly his responsibility. He can’t accept what those Opiri did in coming here.”
Hugh frowned at the pavement. “Bes is all right,” he said. “But his effectiveness...” He looked right and left and lowered his voice. “You’re obviously not what we thought you were—”
“Unless this was all part of a setup,” the redheaded woman said.
“—but you’d better get out of here,” Hugh said, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “They’ll claim you started it.”
“I have nothing to hide. Has this happened before?”
“Not like this,” Hugh said.
“But Opiri have harassed you in the past?”
Hugh shrugged, his beard bristling like a boar’s.
“And have you reported this to the Lawkeepers?”
“Didn’t you hear the bloodsucker? They don’t care what goes on here.”
“Then how can they enforce the law?”
The young woman rolled her eyes. “They just won’t enforce it on our behalf.”
“Maybe I should report the incident myself,” Daniel said.
“Don’t be stupid,” Hugh said. “You’re a newcomer, and they aren’t likely to listen to you.” He leaned toward Daniel. “We don’t want or need the attention.”
“You were ready to fight them yourselves.”
Hugh scowled. “It was a mistake. If those Opiri complain, the Council may—”
“Careful, Hugh,” the woman said.
“I don’t think he’ll report us,” Hugh said grimly.
“I’m still trying to understand,” Daniel said. “Why did they come here to harass you?”
“Why shouldn’t they? We’re insects to them.”
“And all the Opiri here feel the same way?”
“Enough of them do.”
But Isis didn’t seem to know it, Daniel thought. Or she pretended not to.
“You don’t like the Games,” he said. “You said they were to keep humans distracted from the advantages Opiri citizens have over humans.”
Hugh folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ground.
“All right,” Daniel said. “I heard nothing here today. I just happened to be near the tavern when the Opiri showed up.”
Gruff gratitude crossed the big man’s face. “It might be a good idea for you to leave Tanis, but somehow I don’t think you’re going to do that.”
“I see no reason to.”
“I hope you’re right. We’ll do what we can to put them off your scent, but that doesn’t mean the Opiri you beat won’t talk.”
“Admit they were defeated by a human?”
“Just take my advice. Lie low for a while. If they bring you in, tell them only what you have to.” He hesitated. “Once this blows over, there are others you might want to meet. I’ll see what I can arrange.” He gripped Daniel’s hand again, slip
ping something long into Daniel’s palm.
It was a knife in a leather sheath. “Weapons are illegal in Tanis, unless they’re carried by Lawkeepers,” Hugh whispered. “Keep it hidden. Good luck.”
Very much aware of the weapon, Daniel tucked it under his shirt and turned toward the border again. He knew he’d done something very dangerous, not only in attacking the Opiri but also by displaying his strength and speed. Along with his training, it made him the equal of almost any full Nightsider.
It was the anger, he thought. It usually manifested itself in wariness and suspicion, as he’d so often shown with Isis, but he’d let it out this time. He could tell himself it was for the people at the tavern, but in his heart he’d been happy to put the Opiri in their places. If they felt so secure in attacking humans in a human neighborhood, they could have done worse than scratch Hugh’s wrist.
He’d guessed that the Opiri wouldn’t be quick to admit they’d lost a fight to a human. They might not even remember his face from among all the other humans. But rumors would spread, and if Hugh was correct, the authorities would see no reason to give the benefit of the doubt to a newcomer.
But one good thing had come out of this. Now he had solid evidence that the “peace” in Tanis was troubled, and—unless this incident had been a freakish exception—that the supposed cooperation between Opiri and humans might only be a patch over a festering wound.
Had Ares discovered the problem? If he had, it seemed even more peculiar that he hadn’t reported back to Avalon.
As for Isis...
Daniel refused to believe she’d been deliberately lying to him about the state of the city. She genuinely believed what she said about Tanis, about the second chance it gave to humans and Opiri alike. If what Daniel had seen in Bes’s domain was commonplace, surely she’d know about it.
Unless she didn’t want to know.
Hugh had suggested that he leave the city. If he did, he’d have a reasonable report to take back to Avalon, and he’d avoid the complications that might come once the incident was discovered. But only half his work would be finished; Ares was still missing. And the idea of abandoning Isis was like a fist to the gut.
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