by T. A. White
“Play along,” Tate whispered. “We’re being watched. And, lady, I have to say your attempt at slouching is not going to convince a blind man.”
Umi’s shoulders stiffened, and she started to glance around. Tate punched her in the arm before Umi could give them away. Her ploy worked because Umi grabbed her arm and gasped. Guess she had never had anyone play punch her before.
Tempest set Tate’s drink down hard in front of her, half the liquid splashing out. He glowered down at her, shooting daggers with his eyes. Tate grinned up at him and licked her hand where the liquid had splashed.
“Aw, so sweet of you to get my favorite,” Tate simpered up at him. “What about the food? Oh, never mind,” she said before he could answer. She reached up and grabbed his arm dragging him down into the seat beside her.
“I’m claiming this one,” she told Umi.
“Wh-”
Umi looked befuddled and Tempest looked like someone had just socked him in the jaw. Tate bit her lip and giggled. Keeping these guys off balance was more entertaining than she had thought it would be.
“No, no, Bronty,” she cooed at Umi. “I gave you a chance to pick and you didn’t say anything. Or is it you want both? Naughty, naughty.”
Kadien looked like he was catching on. He sat himself next to Umi and draped his arm over her shoulders. Unlike the other two he had the posture of a normal person down pat. A slight grin tugging at his lips, he surveyed their surroundings with bored nonchalance. Just a couple of roughs out for a good time.
Knowing that he was onto her game and willing to play along, for now at least, Tate turned her focus on trying to clue in the other two.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Tate clambered into Tempest’s lap and threw her arms around his shoulder. She let her fingers play with the hair at the back of his neck while she made calf eyes at him. Tempest was having none of it and stared at her like she was a bug he had found in his soup.
Umi had unconsciously relaxed back into Kadien. That was two down, now one to go.
Tate smiled sweetly at Tempest. Running her fingers up his neck, she gently grasped the upper tip of his ear between her fingers and then pinched. Every muscle in his body locked up, though his face remained neutral. It was like sitting on rock. She had to give it to him though if she hadn’t felt how rigidly he held himself she would have never known she was hurting him.
“If you continue to act suspiciously and get us all in trouble, I am going to rip your ear right off your head,” Tate whispered through clenched teeth. She shot another smile over at the other two.
“Perhaps if you would tell people your plan before you started acting on it, they would be quicker to do what you wanted.”
“Aw, my little snugglekins is upset.” Tate rubbed her nose against his. She was slightly surprised when he didn’t try to bite it off.
She jerked at a sharp pinch to her backside. Bastard.
“If you don’t get off of me, I’ll make you pay when we get out of here,” Tempest hissed.
Touchy, touchy.
Reluctantly, she climbed off his lap and settled back into her chair. The cute talk made up for his earlier nastiness. Now that the group was acting more like normal city folk rather than nobility slumming, Tate could relax a little bit.
She took a cautious sip of the beer. Mmm, it wasn’t half bad. Too bad most of it was soaking into the table. She chanced a glance around over the rim of her mug. Most of the other patrons in the half pub, had dismissed the small group after Tate’s performance. There was one, however, who remained fixated on them. He was also the one she’d been most worried about. Menace seemed to radiate from him and her instincts were saying danger. He sat with his back against the wall and his face in shadow.
“Your friend will be here?” Tate asked.
“Yes,” Kadien replied.
“I hope it’s sooner rather than later.”
“Are you not confident in your acting, little thief?” Tempest said tweaking a lock of Tate’s hair. He’d obviously taken pointers from Ryu. He smirked at her look of disgust, which she quickly smothered.
“It’s not my acting that’s the problem, my insolent friend. If I were alone, I could slip through this place unnoticed and be out with what you want before your enemies even knew I was here. Instead we’re risking all of our lives, because three idiots who cannot even act relaxed long enough to get this job done. Forgive me if I am a little on edge.”
“He is here,” Kadien said, putting an end to the hostility that was brewing between them.
Tate turned with a large smile to greet the man approaching them. He was not what she was expecting. She’d been expecting a ruffian, a man capable of taking care of himself. Perhaps she’d even been half anticipating a shifty man, one whose penchant for snooping showed through nervous twitches and sly sideways glances. The man who sat himself at their table was none of these. He wore fine silks and his weapons openly. Gold glittered on his fingers and a jewel winked from his throat. This was a powerful man, for only a powerful man or a fool would walk through the night market so finely dressed. And he did not carry himself like a fool.
Tate had a sinking feeling that things had just taken a turn for the worst. She chanced a glance at Umi and Kadien, hoping this was the friend they had arranged to meet. Both sat rigidly in their chairs, backs straight and faces frozen. Kadien’s knuckles were white where they clutched the tankard. Not a good sign that.
“You’re friend is not coming, M’lady.”
That answered that then.
“You won’t find your trinket in the Yellow or the Red Circle,” the man said before taking a sip of his wine. “But you knew that before you came.”
Tate froze. No, they hadn’t. Unless they’d lied. Which would mean, she’d been played.
The man’s eyes locked on Tate’s. They were as piercing as a hawk’s and studied her as if she was a mouse. His head tilted to the side, his golden hair brushing his shoulders. Tate sat still for his perusal. There were undercurrents to this exchange that she didn’t quite understand. Not yet, anyways.
“My dear, I was sad you turned down my invitation earlier today,” the man said to Tate.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t remember receiving an invitation from so esteemed a man as yourself.”
Tempest shifted uneasily next to Tate. She willed him to keep still and for once be silent.
“Perhaps this will jog your memory.”
The man lifted a hand. Tate would have snorted at the absurdity of the gesture if she hadn’t suddenly found herself surrounded by the three men who’d tried to kidnap her that morning. The man sitting in the shadows rose to his feet and sauntered into the light. Tate knew who it was even before she could make out his face. Unlike the others, Blade didn’t gloat down at Tate but instead regarded her with a calm amusement that was unnerving.
“Outcast.” Tempest’s voice was ripe with loathing as he glared at Blade. Tate really wanted to hit him. The man had almost zero sense
“Ah, that invitation.” Tate’s comment shifted the increasingly hostile attention off of Tempest and onto herself. Once she had everybody’s attention she didn’t quite know what to do with it. She preferred the way they’d been sizing Tempest up. “I’m sorry, sir. I often find that unless one is quite clear about the wording the recipient can sometimes misconstrue the intended message.”
“Jost told me you had a way with words.” The man swirled his wine around in his cup and watched the four with a slight smile on his face. No doubt he was enjoying the discomfiture his presence caused.
“Did he now?” Tate asked tightly.
“Indeed.” For all his finery, the man was a predator. Plain and simple. He addressed his next remarks to the person Tate had once dubbed Leader. She wouldn’t be calling him that anymore. Not with this man sitting in front of her. “Thom, was my message vague at all?”
“No, M’lord. I delivered it clear as day. Told her you wanted to meet and that she was to c
ome with us.”
The man raised an eyebrow at Tate inviting her to say her piece. What series of words would get them out of this mess? In all honesty, Tate didn’t see them getting out of here unscathed.
“No names were mentioned, I had no idea who had sent the invitation. You can’t blame me for being careful.”
“Everyone knows Lucius’s men,” Dewdrop protested.
Tate had no idea who Lucius was, or why he had taken such an interest in her. There were a lot of things she didn’t know and it was becoming tiresome. If she made it out of this situation alive, she promised herself that she would study the customs and habits of this city until she knew them better than she knew herself.
“And yet, I didn’t.” Tate couldn’t help the bite of sarcasm that crept into her voice. “I’m new to this city and haven’t had the time to learn who belonged to whom.”
The finely dressed man watched the two of them quarrel, his lips slightly quirked. Tate’s companions sat stock still beside her, letting her direct the conversation. Although they were present, Tate might as well have been on her own for all the help they offered.
She tallied the odds of them fighting their way out of here. Tate had two decent blade dancers by her side. The men confronting them had Blade, whom Tate knew to be extremely deadly. The misspoken man was more of a brawler than anything. He’d be slow to react, and the two pickpockets were barely more than children. The greatest unknown was the man sitting across from her. He moved with a lethal kind of grace and watched the proceedings as one would a game. He was dangerous and something told her Blade wasn’t the sort to follow a fool.
It wasn’t quite even odds, but if it came down to it, Tate felt certain they could fight their way out as long as there weren’t extra men waiting in the wings.
“Seeing as you held up your end of the bargain,” he said to Umi, “I will allow you access to the Black Night until the sun rises.”
He set a black disk with a crescent moon carved into it on the table. Umi picked it up, her hands shaking slightly. Neither she nor Kadien looked at Tate. Tempest looked confused even when Umi and Kadien stood. When they made it clear they planned to leave Tate there, he looked like someone had just slapped him across the face.
Poor guy. He acted as if he was the one betrayed and not Tate. It was obvious he believed all the crap he’d spouted earlier about nobility and honor. To have those values trampled by those he held in high regard must hurt. Tate felt a small portion of pity for him. Not much. He was, after all, part of the group who’d led her into this trap.
Tate searched for that same feeling of betrayal and found nothing. Just a weary resignation. She wasn’t surprised. Not really. Something had bugged her about this setup from the beginning, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her.
“Let us go, Maiko,” Umi sounded tired when Tempest didn’t move from his seat. “We have much to accomplish this night.”
“But, milady, we can’t do this. It’s wrong. I have as little respect for the thief as you, but she helped us in good faith. We cannot hand her over like this.” Tempest was earnest as he pled Tate’s case. She wondered idly if he’d succeed.
The sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh sang through the air. Tempest’s face turned sharply to the side from the force of Umi’s slap. Guess not.
“She’s a much better actress than I gave her credit for,” Tate said softly. Indeed, Tate hadn’t thought Umi capable of such violence after her gentle lady routine. Those tiny details were right as always. Should have paid more attention.
“There are more important matters at stake than some thief’s life,” Umi said.
“I’d have to disagree. I find my life to be of utmost importance,” Tate said, crossing her arms. Her disagreement fell on deaf ears as the two ignored her and continued with their own conversation.
“Now, come. We have a task to accomplish and not a lot of time with which to work.” Umi’s figure was regal as she turned on one foot and walked away. The argument was over, and she trusted the other two to follow. Kadien trailed behind her without a word, but Tempest cast one last look at Tate.
“I am sorry. I will find a way to make it up to you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tate waved his empty words away. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. As for your apology, it was not yours to make. Now get out of here. You’ve rough waters ahead.”
He nodded gravely at Tate. For a moment, it seemed like the events of the past half hour had aged him, made him more mature. The loss of innocence does that to a person and there was nothing that did that better than finding out the people you thought you knew didn’t quite measure up.
She watched the three disappear into the labyrinth of the market before picking up her beer and draining it. She set it back on the table with a thunk and turned her attention back to the man seated before her.
“What can I do for you?”
The man didn’t answer, instead preferring to study Tate. No matter. Tate wanted to study him as well. She hadn’t given him a nickname yet. With all his bright plumage that contrasted nicely with his dark looks, he reminded Tate of a bird. But what kind? A peacock perhaps? Too obvious. A hawk? Too showy. Nothing seemed to fit.
“You seem awfully unsurprised at this turn of events,” the man observed. “Not many would have let them walk away without some vow of retribution after a betrayal like that.”
“Betrayal?” Tate asked surprised. She chuckled. “That wasn’t betrayal. Betrayal comes after you’ve formed a bond of trust with someone. It’s when they take that trust and shit on it. That’s betrayal. I’ve known them all of one day. They owe me nothing just like I owe them nothing.” Tate tossed Kadien’s purse onto the table. She’d lifted it right after he’d sat down. What could she say? It was habit.
“You can’t tell me you feel nothing after being lured down ‘ere,” the former leader said. “If someone had done that to me, I’d’a cut out their tongue and fed it to ‘em.”
“Oh, I’m hardly calm, or else, I wouldn’t have stolen a good chunk of their money. However, I don’t blame them for it. That would give them more credit then they deserved, and I won’t waste any of my precious time on plotting revenge. Besides they’ve only done what they needed to survive, and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.” Tate hooked one arm over the chair back and made herself comfortable. She was ready to do business. “I hardly think you orchestrated this brilliant plan to get me down here to discuss how not betrayed I feel. What do you want?”
The man rubbed his fingers together as he tilted his head. He straightened in his chair and slapped the table as he came to some kind of decision. “You kept me waiting, however unintentionally, so I think it only fair to do the same to you.”
He nodded to someone behind her. There was a whisper of sound. Then a shooting pain in her head as she slumped forward unconscious.
Chapter Eight
Tate sailed through the heavens with only the stars as her companions. They flew by in brilliant streaks of light as the ship vibrated underneath her. She watched it all in wonder.
“Tate! The team is assembled and waiting for the briefing.”
A young man strode down the corridor towards her. His face was serious, but his eyes were shining with anticipation. The crispness of his uniform matched the short haircut. He was young, barely more than a boy, but like her had already been through several battles. However, this next battlefield would be different than any they’d fought on before.
She looked back out at the stars. A planet with three moons was just coming into view. So this was to be their home for the next little while.
“I’ll be there in a moment.”
Then as dreams do, the scene shifted and Tate was in the midst of battle. A mortar exploded on her right, the percussion of it throwing her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of her. Gasping and with her ears still ringing from the blast, she rolled onto her stomach and looked around. Dirt and shrapnel flew as
another mortar impacted nearby. She curled into a ball, her arms covering her head and neck as sharp rocks and dirt pelted her.
Noise sounded like it had been filtered through a cotton ball. Her first attempt to rise resulted in sprawling ungracefully on the ground. She snarled at herself. ‘Get up! Get up! You’re not dead yet!’ On quivering legs she managed a drunken beeline for an outcropping of boulders fifty yards in front of her.
Small arms fire from a similar outcropping of rocks 100 yards away pitted the rock she was sought shelter behind.
She hit the dirt again, cursing. “God damn, mother fucking pieces of shit and their God damn weapons.”
Miracle of miracles her weapon was still clasped tight in her hands. The ground shook from another blast, this one bigger than the last. They were detonating early. She wouldn’t make it in time. She screamed in rage as she aimed her weapon at her enemy and pulled the trigger.
Something heavy dropped close to her and the vibration of it launched Tate out of her dream and onto her feet. Her hands were clenched and ready to do battle as her heart pounded rapidly in time with her breathing. She pressed her hand to her chest as she mentally brought her racing pulse under control.
There was a reason Tate didn’t sleep much. The dreams were brutal.
She winced as her head protested her sudden movement. She gingerly felt around and jerked when she found a particularly tender spot. She couldn’t find an open cut, but the hair around the tender area was matted. When she examined her fingers, they had rust colored flecks on them. They were the same color blood would be when dried.
“That’s one way to end a conversation.”
Tate had been dumped into a small cell carved from the same rock as the rest of the catacombs. From that, she assumed she was still underground and not far from the Night Market. She turned around and jerked back when she found herself face to face with Blade. He watched her through a set of metal bars bolted into the bedrock. She was guessing they’d been added after whoever had built the catacombs had left. The metal looked shiny and new.
