Dust: A Bloods Book

by Andra Leigh

  As if sensing her thoughts Jinx said, “The, er, owner of the house isn’t in. Should be home by evening at the latest, according to Casamir.”

  “So what do we do ‘til then?”

  “Sleep.”

  Eliscity liked the sound of that. She had lost count of how many hours – or was it days now? – they’d been awake.

  “And her?” She jerked her head at the squirming Reigness.

  Jinx shrugged. “The med-rooms lock, we can keep her in one of them.”

  “I’ll keep guard,” Casamir growled.

  “If she’s any trouble, show her your wings,” Eliscity teased.

  Acanthea’s eyes widened with fresh fear, her squirming turning into thrashing.

  Casamir gave her a toothy smile. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll show her my tail.”

  Locking Acanthea in one of the med-rooms and leaving Casamir on guard duty, Eliscity trudged off to the bathhouse to scrub the sweat and dirt from her pores before falling into a dreamless sleep.

  ●

  It was mid-morning when she awoke. She’d only slept for a few hours. Unable to drift back to sleep she eventually gave up and got dressed. Making her way out of the room, she stopped at the med-room where Casamir lounged against the closed door.

  “Any problems?”

  Casamir gave a bored shrug. “She’ll start up with the screaming every now and then. Nothing interesting though.”

  She shook her head. “Why can’t they yell about the latest gossip in situations like this?”

  “Maybe a joke or two,” Casamir rasped.

  Leaving him, she traipsed downstairs. The Triplets were stacking away the store of food collected from the Falling Inn. She wondered how Miq and Maiva were faring after their livelihood had been rampaged by them and what had seemed like several units of guards. She felt terrible. They were the last people who deserved to become caught up in the destruction. She only hoped the coin they had left them would cover the damage they had caused.

  Neith and Raiden were over at the wooden targets, competing at blade-throwing. Neith was winning. She gave them a smile in greeting and settled onto a large pile of cushions. Opening the book she had brought down with her and flipping past the pages of untidy scrawl she had already read, she found her place and continued to learn about the life of Icah Wrethic.

  I have abandoned my teachings to follow my theories.

  How could I not?

  The war is bloody and merciless, as I imagine any war would be and I’ve been both the luckiest and most ill-fated of warriors. I’ve befriended the enemy and found enemies in my friends. We did not choose these sides for their morals and I can no longer ignore that.

  Sometimes Jane and Warren will speak like there’s no war. They laugh and plan their future with whimsy and certainty. It’s beautiful, magic is beautiful. I want so badly for them to get that future they imagine, it’s something worth fighting for and it’s threatened by that fighting.

  Maybe we should all just run to the mountains and start again, until we all find the next thing to die over, that is. That’s the ‘optimism of humans’ though, isn’t it? We never see the potential for goodness. I can’t help but keep thinking that if the humans win this war, if the Bloods fall, then one day the war will be against our own kind. We can’t live in harmony with anyone, not even ourselves. We are always going to be searching for the next reason to draw blood. We will never care whose blood it is.

  It wasn’t long before she had finished the journal of Icah Wrethic.

  Aside from the odd hard to decipher paragraph or illegible word, it was an easy read. There was no definitive conclusion to his story. His entries stopped pages before the end of the small journal. Had he lost it? Had he died? Something stirred in the back of her mind and while she didn’t remember learning it in class before the Clinic, she knew Icah Wrethic had not been declared dead during the War. Though that didn’t necessarily mean it was the truth. Clearly there had been much the Realm hadn’t known about the War warrior.

  He had befriended the Bloods. She was sure of it. It gave her an odd sense of hope. It was silly but she felt like if a man who had lived four centuries ago could see the good in the Bloods then perhaps people may one day see the good in her.

  A few hours later Raiden took over guard duty and she accepted a sparring challenge from Casamir. While he didn’t fight to his full ability, he didn’t go easy on her either. And after experiencing the genuine strength of a real enemy she appreciated it. The less prone to being kicked in the stomach she became, the better. Casamir offered a different style to go up against. It wouldn’t do for her to only practice with Jinx. After all, the guard at the Falling Inn had fought nothing like Jinx. If she had reacted only as he had taught her, rather than also drawing on Casamir’s advice, the fight may not have gone in her favour.

  The day wore on and Jinx remained asleep. After a particularly long absence of yelling from Acanthea, they peered in on her and found she too had finally dozed off, sitting on the floor, head lolling onto the bed.

  Rather than continue to sit around in the Playground and wait for them to wake up and for Cyan to return home, she sat on the Manor’s roof to wait.

  She was winding through the Manor’s hallways, heading back to the underground, when she ran into Cyan. He must have only just arrived home, his fur travel coat and leather bag still on his arm.

  “Wonderful to see you’re safe, Eliscity,” he said cheerily. “I heard you and Jinx went to replenish the stores. If I’d known before you left, I would have warned that there has been a bit of a ruckus in the cities lately. But I assume everything went smoothly, since here you are. Good thing too, the Gentle Reigness has disappeared, you see. Did you hear while out there? All the people have been getting together to debate whether she was kidnapped like the Lord Reigner is saying or if she really ran away. I’ll tell you now, if she has been kidnapped I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re ready to return her by now.”

  “Return her!” she said, mainly to herself. “Why didn’t I think of that? Where the Bloods were you two days ago?”

  Cyan’s eyes narrowed. “Why am I suddenly concerned?” he asked warily.

  “Because you’re rather intuitive,” she said. “And you’re familiar with Jinx.”

  She filled him in on their last two days. Their easy journey into Trelyes, the guards at the Falling Inn, ‘kidnapping’ the Reigness. Lastly she told him about the reason Acanthea claimed to have run away.

  “Wyon Eddwist,” Cyan said in response.

  She frowned. “Sorry?”

  “The boy,” he explained.

  “One of yours?”

  “No, as far as I’m aware I never met the boy.”

  “Then how?”

  “His mother came to me a few weeks back during the Season’s Sect.”

  “Acanthea’s maid.”

  “Yes.”

  “Acanthea says the Reigner killed her.”

  “Ah.” Cyan’s lips pulled into a tight frown. “Yes, I left the woman rather desperate, I fear. To believe in something terrible is one thing, but to have that fear confirmed is something entirely different.”

  “Is it possible for you to find out if the boy was taken for the Clinic?”

  Cyan shook his head slowly. “The boy was taken over ten years ago.”

  Ten years… Acanthea had made it sound recent.

  “She was searching for ten years and she only just got offered proof on her theories?” she frowned. “How many of those years did it take to find those theories?”

  Cyan gave a small shrug. “She never gave up,” he offered as an answer.

  “Reckon my Ma’s out there doing the same search?” she whispered at her feet.

  She didn’t need to look up to see the compassion cloud his eyes. She heard it in the next words he said.

  “The Clinic has methods of disappearing people without raising suspicion.”

  “Then how did the Reigness’ maid become suspicious?” />
  “It would seem Wyon Eddwist was the fourth or fifth member of the family to disappear. One every generation on his father’s side.”

  She didn’t have to ask what that meant. The Reigner and the Clinic had found a family with a Bloods lineage.

  “If I’m the one from my generation to be taken,” her voice was barely audible, “what happens now that they don’t have me? I had – have – sisters.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m not part of the taking process. And I know each case is handled differently.” Cyan hesitated. “I also know Fae lineage is rare these days.”

  Eliscity pushed the frightening thought out of her mind. Thinking of the welfare of her sisters would only panic her. She didn’t want to imagine the Clinic having them. And she couldn’t begin to find out if they were still at her childhood home as, despite all her regressions, she still didn’t know where it was.

  “We should go see if the lovely Reigness is awake.”

  Jinx was up and talking with Casamir, who had resumed his guard position, by the time she and Cyan made it to the med-room holding Acanthea.

  As they approached, the first hint of guilt crept into Jinx’s smile.

  Cyan stopped in front of him. “Of all the girls in Trelyes you could have brought home to meet the family, you had to choose the one with the terrible father.”

  Casamir laughed in his growling tone.

  The green med-room door shuddered as fists pounded on the other side. “Let me out of here! You can’t keep me here!”

  The Reigness was awake.

  “Shall we put the Gentle Reigness out of her misery, then?” Cyan asked them.

  Eliscity and Casamir exchanged a silent look. They were both enjoying Acanthea’s misery.

  “You sure?” Jinx asked. “If this goes badly she could expose you as a traitor. Not only is that your life, but it’s anyone’s life you’re yet to get out of the Clinic.”

  “Clearly you didn’t believe that would be a problem, or else you wouldn’t have brought her here. Right, Jinx?” Cyan peered at him sharply.

  “She said her maid raised her,” Eliscity said, after she had watched Jinx squirm for long enough. “If I had to guess, I’d say that’s where her alliance is.”

  Cyan nodded his understanding. “Shall we, then?”

  Acanthea started screaming the moment they entered the room. Not because of Jinx or Casamir. And not because of Cyan, who she was yet to even notice. Her eyes had gone straight to Eliscity and hadn’t left.

  “Keep away from me!” she shrieked, a quivering finger pointing straight at Eliscity’s heart. Her curls were a mess, frizzing out from her head. The twisting ivy pattern carved on the bed posts was imprinted on one of her cheeks, suggesting her sleep hadn’t been comfortable. “You – you – you –” she spluttered, “don’t come closer. You hear me! Keep her away from… Mister Vance?”

  “Good afternoon, Gentle Reigness,” Cyan said calmly.

  Acanthea’s eyes were wide, skipping from face to face.

  “Wh-what… I don’t understand.”

  “I know,” Cyan said. He gestured to one of the seats. “Why don’t we sit down? Casamir, perhaps you could rustle up some food for the Gentle Reigness? And we can talk. It’s a long story, Reigness. I would recommend not turning down the food or the seat.”

  Acanthea considered Cyan for several more moments, her eyes flickering over to Eliscity. “Does she have to be here?”

  “Yes,” Cyan said. “The sooner you get used to her, the easier it’ll be for all of us.”

  Slowly, very slowly, Acanthea lowered herself to the bed, sitting on its edge and shooting Eliscity a look that said she was only doing it for the information and was in no way planning on getting used to her.

  Eliscity didn’t mind. Casamir left to get the food and she chose one of the wooden chairs that had been placed against the med-rooms wall for its patient or visitors.

  They let Cyan take point with the long, scary story of the Clinic. Every now and then Jinx would offer a helpful comment while she or Casamir, once he returned, would toss in an unhelpful one. Acanthea shook her head in disbelief, argued it as impossible and told them all they were mad. When she finally started to accept what she was being told she moved onto barraging them with questions. It didn’t escape Eliscity’s notice that she never moved to defend her father. Even if she had been wrong when she had told Cyan that Acanthea’s alliance was with her dead maid, she was quickly realising that the Reigness had no alliance with the Reigner. When Acanthea realised that Eliscity wasn’t the only past patient of the Clinic to be sitting in the room with her, she started sharing the look she had reserved for Eliscity to Jinx and Casamir too. Jinx told her that she had nothing to fear from them. Casamir just grinned.

  Cyan had focused on the Borns and families with lineages in his explanation, giving only a brief outline of Bloodings and the Blooded, since Acanthea’s interest was in Wyon Eddwist and what would have happened to him. Though as their talk moved on from the boy from ten years ago, they showed their insignias, explaining that the left hand was marked for the Born and the right for the Blooded.

  Examining Jinx’s Blooded insignia, Acanthea suddenly swore.

  “Oh Bloods. In the tunnels that one –”

  She pointed a finger at Eliscity.

  “– said somethin– I thought ‘liar’ but – Is he some sort of human Pyre thing?”

  “Honestly, I hope not,” Eliscity said to the Reigness, as she examined Jinx’s pale complexion. As usual it was completely flawless. Not a mark in sight. “The thought of Pyres in human form… I think we can all agree that’s just something that should never happen.”

  “There’s no such thing as a kind Pyre,” Jinx quipped with a grin.

  “In my time at the Clinic I have not encountered the use of Pyre blood,” Cyan told them confidently.

  “That’s actually comforting,” Jinx said, leaning against the door jamb. He hadn’t once sat down, apparently preferring to pace or lean against things while they talked. “War or not, that was one Bloods we could all do without.”

  “Well then, what is he? Or what is he half of, I should say. Is that right?” she asked Cyan.

  “Half unknown, full pain in all our backsides,” Casamir rumbled.

  “We don’t know what Jinx was Blooded with, I’m afraid,” Cyan explained. “He only had one transfusion and, if survived, depending on the individual and the Bloods blood used, that’s rarely enough to make any permanent changes on a physical level, which would be the alterations that could help us identify what he was Blooded with.”

  “We suspect they have more Wolf blood than any other,” Jinx said, “given the amount of Blooded Wolves we’re seeing in comparison to others. But who knows for sure.”

  “But you’re a Clinic doctor, right?” Acanthea frowned at Cyan. “Shouldn’t you know what Bloods blood they have or something?”

  “Doctors are only familiar with the patients they are assigned to and have the blood brought to them by the few doctors that are given the clearance to do so. I’ve never been inside the Clinic’s blood bank. When there, my job is to oversee patients already tended to by other doctors. Then I use what information I receive from those to determine better ways to achieve our objective. That part, I do here. Not at the Clinic. I am one of the few doctors who are allowed to travel between home and the Clinic. As it is I spend more time here than I do there. There are also professors doing the Reigner’s work who have never been to the Clinic and perhaps do not even know it exists. The doctors who remain at the Clinic, remain there for life. They are given a position that rarely offers promotion.”

  “Sounds perfectly designed for the segregation of information,” Acanthea said. She sighed, her face contorting with disgust. “Which sounds exactly like the Reigner.”

  Their party broke up not long after that. Jinx took Acanthea down to the Playground for the last lot of introductions. Casamir went with them, no doubt to stand in front of Lale
ita and growl, as he had done all those weeks ago at Eliscity’s introduction.

  As Cyan stood, Eliscity walked out to the hallway with him.

  “Must be hard,” she said.

  “What must be, my dear?”

  “Rescuing people from a place that you rarely visit. And it’s not exactly close.”

  It had taken her a week to get out of the Cityel, to stumble around the lake’s edge and into Stource. She had been weak, scared and alone. In a carriage with the luxuries of food and drink, she imagined it would be somewhat easier. But it was still not an easy journey.

  “It restricts the amount of patients I can get out.” A heaviness laced through Cyan’s words. “Sometimes I’m not presented with a chance, other times all I can do is give a patient hope for next time, or the time after that...”

  He didn’t say it but she knew he wanted to say ‘or the time after that’ again.

  “Who was the last you got out?” she asked, hoping to remind him of the good he was doing.

  “Her name was Grena.” His eyes clouded over as he added, “She didn’t survive the journey back.”

  “Oh.” This wasn’t going well.

  “Before that it was Faust,” he said. “He was the last of the Triplets. It took me a year and a half to get all three out.”

  “I can’t imagine them apart for that long.” She smiled as she thought of the boisterous Triplets.

  “I don’t think they’ll ever be apart,” Cyan admitted. “No matter the distance, they’re always connected. Take their scar, for example. Have they ever told you how they got it?”

  “No,” she frowned. “You know, I never asked. I guess because all of them have it I got so used to seeing it, so I stopped thinking of it as a scar. How’d they get it?”

  Cyan examined one of their elemental crystals flicking on the corridor wall. “It was after I had gotten Fletcher and Forrest out. Faust was still in the Clinic. It was months before I was scheduled to return to the Clinic and one day Fletcher and Forrest broke out in this identical rash. Right across their face. Eye to lip. Days went by and it turned red and raw. With each day, both boys’ mark remained exactly the same, changing in exactly the same way. I didn’t have an explanation. They didn’t have an explanation but to offer their concern for Faust. After a few weeks the rash started to fade until it left behind the scar they have now. As if their faces had been cut. Months later when I was finally scheduled to return to the Clinic, I discovered Faust had the same new scar. Only his had been caused by a blade. He’d received it in an attack the same day the rash had first appeared on his brothers.”