by Gwynn White
A boy standing on the ledge angled a spear at his eye. “A diamond. So which Avanov are you?”
Admitting who he was would probably get him killed, so he said, “I’m Prince Meka.”
Laughter ripped through the boys. It sounded so vicious, he braced himself for an attack.
Nineteen
More Bad News
What a time for Grigor to lie!
Meka swung his rifle up and took aim at String. Shale pointed his rifle at Dip.
“Drop that bottle and step away from my brother,” Meka commanded String.
String stared defiantly at him. His blasted broken bottle didn’t move away from Grigor’s back.
Grigor’s head shot up. “Meka? Is that you?” Hope and longing rang in his voice.
It belied how terrible Grigor looked. Drenched in muck, his clothes hung limply on him as if they were a size too big for him. His face was as gaunt as an old man’s. Or someone ravaged by illness.
Heat flushed through Meka. He clenched his fists to stop them shaking with rage. He may have had a rough time over the past few months, but, clearly, life had been even tougher for Grigor. Someone had to pay for that.
Shale whispered, “Winds! He doesn’t look good. We need to get him back to the Hive before he falls over.”
Meka whispered back, “Keep Dip under control.” When Shale nodded, he spoke loudly to Grigor, “Claiming to be me wasn’t your best lie, Grigs.”
“Thank the Dragon.” Grigor sagged visibly. “Where are you?”
Keeping his rifle trained on String, Meka pushed his way through the line of boys so Grigor could see him.
“Hey,” Dip groused. “What do you think you’re doing? And since when do you command my boys? You may be an Avanov, but that counts for squat here.”
“It counts for everything when Prince Meka’s brother’s life is on the line,” Shale growled.
“You know what we said about Grigor,” Dip shot back. “Nothing changes because he’s Meka’s brother. He’s a lying dog, and he deserves to die for it.”
Shale moved behind Dip. “Don’t push this. You won’t win.”
Trusting Shale to defuse the situation, Meka called down to String, “I said get away from him. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“What happens if I don’t?” String demanded.
“This.” Grigor’s elbow rammed into String’s mouth.
String catapulted back and bashed into the wall. The bottle flew out of his hand and shattered on the tunnel floor.
“That should shut you up,” Grigor said, but there was no malice in his voice. He smiled up at Meka. “You have no idea how pleased I am to see your ugly face.”
Meka lowered his rifle and laughed. “Enough to try and impersonate me. Get up here so I can hug you.”
Grigor laughed with him. “Hug me? Since when did you get so touchy-feely?”
When they’d been children locked in the cage, Grigor had often tried to hug him. He had always resisted. That had always led to a fight, which saw them both isolated and lonely. Now, he couldn’t think of one good reason why he’d been so stupid. “I don’t need any lessons with bees to convince me of how important you are to me.”
“Those bees. Don’t remind me.” Grigor started to climb the ladder.
Knowing Meka was allergic to bees, Father had once taken him and Grigor to a beehive in the forest. The bees had swarmed, and it was only thanks to Grigor and a conveniently placed stream that he hadn’t been stung.
“Give me some credit,” Father objected. “No bee on the planet would ever have harmed you on my watch.”
Still, it makes a good story, Meka replied. I’ll be sure to tell it to your grandbabies. Meka frowned. Joking with Father implied happier, more peaceful times that seemed inappropriate given how Grigor lumbered up the stepladder. He looks terrible. What happened?
“You don’t look so peachy, either. You boys can compare notes once you’ve taken care of all your responsibilities.”
Meka remembered Shale and Dip. He shot around to find them. He was alone on the wall. Engrossed in his reunion with Grigor, he hadn’t even been aware of them leaving.
Is Shale okay?
“He has a rifle.”
That left String.
Sporting nothing worse than a split lip, the lad sat on his butt in the tunnel. He looked glum.
Meka called to him. “You got off lightly. If my brother had wanted to, he could have broken every tooth in your head with his elbow.”
Having been on the receiving end of many of Grigor’s elbow jabs, he knew just how much damage Grigor could inflict if he put some muscle into it. Either Grigor didn’t have that strength anymore, or he had tempered the blow.
String fingered his mouth before muttering, “I guess. But he’s still a traitor.”
Grigor paused on the ladder. “I can see how you would think that,” he said to String. “I wish things were different, but they’re not. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove to you who I really am.”
String shot a bloody glob of spit at Grigor.
Even though it missed, Meka yelled. “Dragon’s tits, String! Don’t make me come down there. I’ll tan your hide if I do.”
“Leave it,” Grigor huffed, short of breath after the short climb. He held up a thin hand. “Some help would be good.”
Meka took his hand and hauled him off the ladder and onto the platform.
Before Grigor’s feet had settled, he said, “Help String up.”
Meka grunted. “He’s young and tough. He can manage.” He lowered Grigor carefully to the ground next to the fire to give him time to catch his breath.
“Please,” Grigor rasped. “I hurt him. We need to put that right.”
How could he refuse? Still, he mumbled, “You’re a far better person than I am.” He called out to String. “You okay to climb?”
Head canted, the boy watched Grigor with a speculative look.
Meka repeated his question.
String glanced his way. “I can climb. What happened to your brother. Is he lying about not being able to stand?”
Meka waited to see if Grigor would reply. When Grigor didn’t, he said, “No lies about this.” But seeing the opportunity String’s interest offered, he added, “He’s been with Lukan, so anything is possible.”
“But—” String still hadn’t moved from his spot in the tunnel. “You’re supposed to be his sons.”
“I can see how that might confuse you.” Meka laughed bitterly. “Don’t believe everything you hear from the palace.” He glanced at Grigor, wondering if he would share what had happened to him.
Grigor didn’t make eye contact. String and Dip’s accusations must have hit him hard.
Despite not knowing exactly what had happened the night the guardsmen swarmed the city, Meka resolved to set the record straight. “In fact, don’t believe a damn thing you hear from there. It will always be lies, designed to hurt someone.” He paused to let the words sink in, and then added, “And in this case, it looks like Grigor was the one who got nailed. Him and Cian both.”
String shifted from foot to foot but made no move to join them. “Did you plan to meet…” He swallowed, then jabbed a finger at Grigor. “Him. Your brother. Is that why you’re in our tunnels?”
“No. Lukan said I was trouble. He sent me away months ago. Hell, he even commanded Count Felix to kill me. I got lucky because I was working with Axel. Felix faked my death but fried my brain instead.”
String’s eyes widened. “He made you one of them crazies?”
“Perfect way of describing it. I managed to escape about an hour before I met you. And to be honest, I’m pretty knackered right now.”
“That makes two of us,” Grigor murmured. He sat next to the fire where Meka had left him.
Meka shot String what he hoped was a conciliatory grin. “Any chance you can get up here so we can move this conversation along to the part where all get to sleep for ten hours?”
String shim
mied up the ladder so fast that just watching him exhausted Meka.
Meka smiled wryly at Grigor. “You up for a walk?”
“Sure.” But when Grigor tried to stand, his legs caved in under him.
Before Meka could lunge for him, String swooped in and snuck under Grigor’s arm to prop him up. Tiny as String was, he wasn’t much help. He ferreted deeper into Grigor’s armpit as if that would give him an additional six inches.
Grigor gasped and his face contorted.
“You’re hurting him.” Meka grabbed a handful of String’s tunic to yank him away Grigor.
Grigor held up his hand. “Chill, Meks. String is fine where he is. I appreciate his help. Now, how about leading us to that bed you were talking about?”
Face burning—why had he been such an idiot to lash out at String?—Meka helped Grigor to the ladder. His hand brushed Grigor’s back. A lattice of seeping wounds covered Grigor’s torso. Meka’s jaw clenched. His brother had been beaten mercilessly. Once at the bottom, as if by silent agreement, he and String took Grigor’s arms to help him along.
They had not gone more than five steps into the quelling darkness when Grigor croaked, “So much to tell you, Meks. Just so effing much. I hardly know where to begin.”
Grigor swearing?
The chill that rippled through Meka had nothing to do with the dank air. He grappled for something to say to comfort Grigor. The last time they’d been together, Grigor been wooing Natalia. That seemed like a safe topic, so he said, “Did you and Natalia ever become an item?”
Grigor slipped out of his and String’s hands and slumped down onto the floor. “Sit. There’s stuff you need to know.”
Meka would have preferred to do this in the Hive, where they had light, but it was Grigor’s call, so he sank down next to his twin.
String brushed Meka’s arm as he sat next to him in the darkness.
A moment of silence ensued, broken only by Grigor’s rasping breaths. Finally, he said, “By now, Natalia has probably ripped her family’s hearts out to give to Lukan because I didn’t let her have mine.”
Meka sucked in a breath.
String gulped audibly.
“I would have given it to her. Honest, I would, to save her family, but Cricket said I had to choose between them and staying alive to help Nicholas.” Grigor’s voice dropped. “Not hard to guess what I chose.”
Meka longed to wrap his arms around Grigor, but not with the injuries on his back. He settled for laying his hand on Grigor’s knee. “Who’s Cricket?”
“She and Tao are friends,” Grigor said cryptically, no doubt for String’s benefit.
A dead person. That made sense. But the knowledge didn’t give him the words to comfort Grigor with.
String shuffled. What the boy was thinking, Meka couldn’t fathom. No matter, it was time to get back to the Hive. He started to stand.
“There’s more, Meks.”
Meka sat back down and laced his fingers with Grigor’s icy ones. “I’m listening.”
“Kestrel’s dead.”
Meka recoiled as if slapped. “What? How?” His shock was hypocritical. He’d never loved her, and she certainly didn’t love him.
“She tried to protect me. Lukan commanded Morass to kill her for it,” Grigor said bluntly.
The air oozed out of Meka.
Still, as hard as he tried, he could not picture a world in which his mother would die for him or Grigor. Much had to have changed at the palace since he’d been gone.
Grigor’s fingers squeezed his tight. “And that’s not all. Natalia knew what was happening. Even with the ice crystal controlling her actions. She tried to fight it, I’m convinced of that, but the programming just took over.”
“Dragon’s bits! That probably means that every ‘crazy’ is the same boat.” Meka grimaced. Having just escaped an ice crystal, the idea of being in command of his facilities but unable to resist its compulsion was even more horrific than hearing his mother had died. The good news was that Lukan’s ice crystals weren’t controlled by Felix’s Hive. Of course, he’d have to persuade Kai Lin to risk helping him. No easy task, but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Maybe we can deactivate them.”
“So you’ve learned all the informa stuff?” Although stated as a question, Grigor’s voice brimmed with pride.
“Not everything,” Meka said. “But I’ve got two friends who are also programmers. We’ll figure it out.”
“Then let’s do it. Help me up, and I can do the rest.”
Meka started to stand. String clutched his arm. “Wait. I still have a question. I—I don’t say that I understand everything, but I got that you were talking about the crazies and your mother. Right?”
“Yes,” Meka said, struggling with patience.
“What I want to know is who beat Prince Grigor? And why?”
Grigor snorted. “No great mystery, String. The Lord of the Rack whipped me on Lukan’s orders. He took exception that I spoke to the High Council the night Axel attacked the city.” A pause. “Axel Avanov. He’s head of the Pathfinder Alliance. I support him.”
“I know him.” String’s voice sounded strangled. “Why did you send in them guardsmen?”
“Simple. Count Felix threatened to kill Meka if I didn’t. I’m sorry for all the pain they caused. I really am. But if I had to choose again, I would protect my brother. Every time.”
Meka held his breath, waiting for String’s reaction. It surely wouldn’t be good.
Grigor’s rasping breath was loud in the lingering silence.
Finally, String shuffled. “I’ve got a brother. Porky. He’s littler than me. I promised Ma I’d look after him. But now he’s one of them crazies. I tried to get Dip to keep him in the gang, but he wouldn’t.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t tell Dip… but I sneak Porky food. Them tins. When Dip’s not watching. If he finds out, he’ll kill me.” String’s clothing rustled as if he’d shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t let Porky die.”
“So you understand why I did it?” Grigor asked.
“’Course.” String’s voice was rough. He touched Meka’s arm. “What does ‘deactivate’ mean?”
“It means we turn off the thing that makes people crazy.”
“You can do that?”
Meka wasn’t going to offer something he couldn’t deliver. “I’m not making promises, String, but I will try. If nothing else, I will make sure your brother has food and a safe place to hide until Axel and Nicholas come back to Cian.” Porky could join the programmers in Felix’s apartment in the Hive.
“And you gotta promise not to tell Dip about them tins.”
“I give you my word.”
“And I add mine to that,” Grigor said.
“Then let’s go.” String jumped up. “An’ I’ll tell Dip to leave Grigor alone.”
Meka grinned, suddenly seeing why Father had wanted him to meet up with the urchins. Very crafty. I’m seriously impressed at how well you manipulated me.
“Glad you approve.” Father sounded pleased. “But String is just one person. Now you have to bring Dip and the rest of his boys onto your side.”
That would be a much harder nut to crack.
Twenty
Denied. Again.
Nicholas cursed. He’d just grazed his shin for the tenth time in about as many minutes. Anna skittered ahead of him, totally at home in the dark, amid the rocks, the ragged floors, and the low ceilings. Whether she’d had chosen to come through unlit tunnels to protect him, or whether it was the actual route to where she was taking him, he didn’t know. And she didn’t slow down long enough for him to find out. Listening didn’t help either. Cocooned in rock, all he heard were their echoing steps.
She called over her shoulder, “We’re coming to a bridge. It’s just wide enough for you to walk with one foot in front of the other.”
Great. In the dark.
“What’s below it?”
“A crevice. Clay and I abseiled down it once.
It’s a hundred-foot drop, so don’t lose your footing.”
The situation was so ludicrous all he could do was laugh.
“What’s so funny about a hundred-foot drop?”
“I’ve escaped an attack on the hillside, only to be killed by you in the mine.”
“Only if you plod across it like a Chenayan.” She gave a blood-thirsty laugh. “Many a guardsman died in the crevices and canyons in this mine.”
“How many of them did you shove?” Crazy as it was, he loved that Anna was a fighter. She reminded him of Mom.
“Didn’t have to. The dark and the mines took care of it for us. There are bodies littered all over the place. Served the bastards right.”
“Charming.”
Abruptly, she stopped walking. He bumbled straight into her. He was about to step back, but her fingers closed around his. Lightning bolted up his arm, through his chest, and down to his core. It pooled deliciously. He blushed, glad she couldn’t see how much her touch affected him.
“I know I sound callous,” she said, huskily. “But we didn’t choose this. We’d have been fools not to use the mines to help us survive.”
“You don’t need to justify anything to me.” He cleared his throat, wondering if he should tell her about Morass. He decided that she needed to know that just because he was the Light-Bearer, it didn’t mean he was perfect. “When I was first captured, Lukan sent a guardsman to watch over me. His name is Morass. I removed his eye. And you know what I did to Oleg. So I get it. Keeping one’s humanity intact when you’re trying to survive isn’t easy.”
“Pulled his eye out?” He could hear a grin in Anna’s voice. “Wow, I’m impressed.”
Her admiration made him shiver. “Don’t be. I’m not proud of it.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s get across this bridge. I’m tired of being in the dark. I hope wherever you’re taking me is somewhere really, really nice.”
“You’ll love it.” She dropped his hand and shuffled forward. Then stopped again. “What was I thinking?” It sounded as if she had slapped her forehead. “I could have used my informa for light.”