Facing the Gray

by Carol Beth Anderson

  Tullen nodded and pushed his way through the shrubs. “I’ll be right back.”

  His stride gift was still active, but he had to walk slowly to search for the scarf in the moonlight. First, he examined the hedge they’d walked through, hoping it had gotten caught on a branch. It wasn’t there. Next, he took a zigzag path through the area they’d traversed, keeping his eyes on the ground.

  He was losing hope of finding it and was about to signal for Narre to open the shed again, when something on the ground caught his eye. He bent to get a closer look, and the moonlight illuminated the plaid pattern of Narre’s scarf, dark against the snow.

  Tullen crouched to pick it up, and as he rose, he felt an object push hard against his back. A voice reached his ears. “This is a weapon, and if you run, you’ll die so quickly, you won’t even know it happened.”

  Tullen froze, considering whether he should risk running. He recognized Konner Burrell’s voice. The object pressed against his back felt blunt. It didn’t seem to be a knife, but a club wouldn’t cause the quick death Konner had described. Tullen couldn’t imagine what the weapon might be, but he trusted Konner’s resourcefulness. The threat could be a bluff, but he wouldn’t bet his life on it.

  As if he could read Tullen’s mind, Konner said, “You probably don’t believe me, but this weapon uses black powder and is capable of firing a projectile at you faster than even you can run, Tullen.”

  Hearing his name, Tullen stiffened.

  “Sit down,” Konner said. “If you have magic in your feet or ears, release it, then remove your hat, your shoes, and your socks.”

  Tullen obeyed. He flexed his feet and wiggled his toes. How is it that snow feels so much colder on toes than it does on fingers?

  “Whose scarf is this?” Konner asked, throwing the cloth on Tullen’s lap.

  Hearing the question, a small hope entered Tullen. Konner must not have seen Narre. “It’s mine,” he said. “I dropped it.”

  “You already have a scarf.”

  “It’s a cold night, so I borrowed one from a friend.”

  Konner walked around to face his prisoner. When he’d last seen Konner, the man had been on a horse, desperately trying to get to Tavi while she broke up the ground with unstoppable magic.

  Now, Konner sported a lazy smile, a lit cigar tucked into the corner of his mouth. Seeing that nonchalant expression, fury filled Tullen, but he reined it in, examining the man further. Konner held a long object. Tullen couldn’t discern the details of it in the moonlight, but he instinctively believed it was the weapon Konner had described. His heart beat far faster than seemed healthy, and his breaths seemed determined to keep pace.

  “I don’t believe you,” Konner said, “but we’ll get to the bottom of it. You may stand.” Tullen did. Konner pointed the weapon at Tullen’s chest. “Let’s go inside. First, however, I need to warn you. I’ll be behind you, and if I see any glimmer of magic in your feet, your ears, or anywhere else, I’ll use this weapon on you.”

  Konner walked behind Tullen, pressing the object against his back. Tullen took a deep breath, and as he released it, he shuddered, half from cold and half from fear. He allowed Konner to herd him through the back door.

  They entered into a short hallway, lit by a hanging lantern. Tullen felt an odd gratitude toward his captor for bringing him somewhere warm. Konner came around to stand in front of him again. “We’ll wait right here. You can have a seat. Get as comfortable as you can.”

  “What are we waiting for?” Tullen asked, still standing.

  “We’re waiting for your friend Tavi.” Konner cocked his head. “I know when I told you to sit, it sounded like a request. It wasn’t.”

  Konner now had the weapon pointed at Tullen’s head. Tullen sat and examined the object. It was a squat metal tube, shorter than his forearm, strapped near the end of a long piece of wood. With effort, Tullen moved his eyes from the weapon to Konner’s face. “If you’re waiting for Tavi to come, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” he said.

  Konner laughed, a low rumble. “The lovebirds are squabbling?” Tullen didn’t respond. “You wouldn’t have come to the city without her,” Konner said. “And considering you were there in her hour of need, I’m betting she’ll return the favor.” With another laugh, he added, “Of course, when you came for her, I don’t think she needed you at all. She was doing quite well on her own. Remarkable girl, isn’t she?”

  Tullen considered the question. Yes, Tavi was remarkable. She had strength, beauty, intelligence, and humor, all in quantities he didn’t think she recognized. But he didn’t think that was what Konner meant. He considered telling the man that Tavi’s gifts were gone. Maybe he’d stop pursuing the all-blessed girl if he realized she had none of the magical power he coveted. Then again, if Konner knew the truth and Tavi did come, he might decide she wasn’t worth keeping alive. Tavi’s dormant magic had to remain secret.

  Watching the smug man in front of him, Tullen’s mind filled with questions, but he knew Konner would refuse to answer them. He was better off keeping his ears alert and mouth shut.

  He didn’t have to wait long. After puffing for a few minutes on his cigar, Konner held it up with one hand, keeping the weapon pointed at Tullen with the other. “I prefer pipes,” he said. “Cigars are dreadful things, really. The smoke is thick, and it stinks. Pipe tobacco has a refinement a cigar will never attain.”

  Konner paused, as if waiting for Tullen to ask a question. After a moment of silence, he continued, “There’s a reason I’ve changed my habits in such a regretful manner. See this miniature cannon?” He waved the weapon. “That’s what it is, you know. It’s called a hand cannon. Inside is black powder and a pellet of iron. If you’ll pardon me a moment, I should really refresh this.” He pulled a small, metal bottle from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and tapped powder onto a tiny hole at the top of the body of the cannon. Placing the bottle back in his pocket, he continued his tutorial. “As you can see, there’s a smidge of powder at this hole here. If I bring the lit end of my cigar all the way to that hole, it will ignite the powder within, forcing that innocent iron pellet out the front of the weapon at such a high speed, you won’t even see it.

  “You’ll feel it though, if you live long enough to know what you’re feeling at all. So my cigar is in essence part of this weapon. I just have to bring it down, like so—” And Konner brought the glowing end of his cigar down toward the top of the hand cannon, keeping the weapon steady and pointed at Tullen’s chest the whole time. Tullen stopped breathing.

  When it was an inch from the hole, Konner laughed and pulled the cigar away, placing it back in his mouth. “I’m not ready to do that yet; you can relax. Well, as much as it’s possible to relax when you’ve just been caught at the home of a stranger who has the most effective handheld weapon that’s been available for centuries.”

  Tullen forced himself to breathe again. He had to keep his mind clear. Could he grasp the weapon, pull it away, and attack Konner? He would need perfect technique and precise timing. Konner was a skilled fighter, and Tullen’s only real advantage was the element of surprise.

  Tullen watched for an opportunity. He knew Konner was waiting too, waiting for Tavi to show up.

  Tullen silently begged her to stay home.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Then Relin wept on bended knees,

  And Sava heard his wordless cries.

  Wild magic struck his enemies

  And blinded ev’ry soldier’s eyes.

  -From Relin the Fierce, Author Unknown

  Tavi sat in her bedroom at her small desk, reading by the light of a candle. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn’t sleep while she waited for Narre and Tullen to return. She was alone, Jenevy having gone down to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

  Tavi was rereading a paragraph for the third time when shrill, panicked voices from downstairs reached her ears. She dropped the book, blew out the candle, and rushed out of the room and down the stairs, foll
owed closely by Sall.

  They found Jenevy and Narre in the small coatroom off the back door of the midwife house. Narre was crying, incomprehensible words stumbling out of her mouth in between sobs and panicked breaths. Jenevy stood next to her, begging to know what had happened.

  Sall’s head began to glow, and he positioned himself in front of Narre, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I know you’re scared.” His voice was low and soft. “Take a few deep breaths, and you’ll be able to talk. Take your time.”

  “We don’t . . . have . . . time!” Those words, at least, were understandable.

  Pala came in the room. “What in the world is going on? We have one new mother who’s just gotten her baby to sleep and another woman in labor. Why is it so loud in here?” Narre turned, and the lantern light fell on her face. Seeing it, Pala’s expression took on a gentler cast. “My dear girl, what’s happened?”

  Narre drew in two long breaths. She was still crying, but her breathing regulated enough for her to talk. “Konner took Tullen,” she said.

  Tavi had known that would be Narre’s message; Tullen’s absence had spoken the truth before Narre could get it out. But when the statement rang in the air, unable to be altered or withdrawn, it felt like a stone hit Tavi’s chest, embedding there and compressing her lungs.

  Konner took Tullen.

  Pala looked just as worried as the rest of them, but she recovered her senses faster. “Let’s go into the dining room,” she said.

  Tavi followed the rest of the group. Her whole body felt oddly numb, making her fear she would lose her footing. But she made it safely and sat with the others.

  “We have to rescue him!” Jenevy said.

  “We will,” Pala replied. “But we must have a plan. Narre, tell us everything that happened.”

  Tavi listened to Narre’s story, but the words sounded like they were traveling through cotton. The discovery of the Grays’ headquarters was just the break they’d needed, but all Tavi could think was That evil man has Tullen. The fact was a bitter root in her mouth, and as she chewed on it, her insides roiled.

  Narre finished her story, and the others began discussing their options. “I feel sick,” Tavi said, pushing back her chair and fleeing the room.

  Rather than going to the bathroom, she ran out the back door into the yard. Her vomit marred the pristine beauty of the snow, and the cold wind cleared her mind, illuminating her actions from the past few months.

  I thought I could protect them by not going with them. How could I have been so stupid? Konnor would have taken me instead if I’d been there.

  Tavi expected someone to come check on her at any second. She had only enough time to act, not to think. She’d left the door open, and she stepped back inside, grabbing the first coat and scarf she found. As she ran around the house and toward the street, she put them on. She wrapped the scarf around her head and face, as she’d been doing every time she left the house. The coat belonged to Sall, and the sleeves were too long, but it was just as well. She didn’t have any gloves.

  It wouldn’t work to take the same streets she and Evitt had taken to Konner’s house. Tavi’s friends would surely come after her. But this part of town was laid out in a grid, and it was easy to shift her route by a couple of blocks without changing the distance to her destination.

  She ran, thankful for the fighting training that had increased her endurance. After starting at a sprint and nearly falling on a patch of ice, she slowed to a safer, more sustainable pace. It didn’t take long to reach the alley behind Konner Burrell’s house.

  Sall, Narre, and Jenevy weren’t in sight, but she guessed at least one of them must be close behind. Just keep moving. She slid the loose fence pickets to the side, stepped past the hedges, and walked straight through the yard to the back door, rolling up her coat sleeves along the way. This was no covert rescue effort. This was an exchange. Herself for Tullen. How could Konner refuse?

  Tavi knocked on the back door and was surprised when Konner himself opened it immediately. “Come in,” he said with a smile. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  Tullen was sitting in the hallway, and Konner had a long, narrow object pointed at him. Before Tavi could say a word, Konner turned to Tullen. “I told you she would come for you.” Tullen’s head bowed. Konner turned to Tavi again. “I couldn’t predict if you would come straight to the door or try to sneak inside. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. You know you’re the one I’m interested in.”

  “Let him go,” Tavi said. “I’ll stay here. Just let him go.”

  Tullen’s torso snapped to attention. “No!”

  “Shut up.” Konner said, but he was smiling. This was a side of Konner Tavi hadn’t seen, full of the confidence of conquest. He was nearly giddy. He stepped away from Tavi and shoved the long thing into Tullen’s chest. Then he looked at Tavi and followed her gaze. “I see you’ve noticed my hand cannon.”

  “What is it?”

  He laughed. “It’s just what it sounds like. It’s a cannon, small enough to hold in my hand. It’s filled with black powder.” He lifted the hand that wasn’t holding the weapon, and for the first time, she noticed his glowing cigar. “If I touch this cigar to the hole at the top,” he said, “a pellet of iron will explode out the front, rearranging Tullen’s chest in the process. Or maybe his head. I haven’t decided yet.”

  Tavi choked out, “I already told you, I’m staying. There’s no need for this.”

  “You did tell me that. But I remember the last time you were a guest of the Grays. You seemed so innocent until you tore apart a good portion of my property with earthquakes. I’m ensuring you try nothing like that today.”

  So he didn’t know her magic was dormant.

  “I’m cooperating with you,” Tavi held her hands in the air. “Let him go.”

  Konner smiled again. “Let’s go sit somewhere more comfortable. Stand up, Tullen. Link your arm with Tavi’s. Keep in mind I’ll have the hand cannon aimed at both your backs.”

  Tavi felt the tension in Tullen’s arm when he linked it with hers. They looked back at Konner, who waved his hand toward the end of the hallway in a grand gesture, as if entertaining royalty. They all walked down the hall, their steps lit by a lantern Konner carried. Every several seconds, Tavi felt the barrel of the weapon nudge her back. Each time, it made her flinch.

  Konner led them into the center of the house to a set of stairs. He took them to a small, interior bedroom with no windows on the second floor. “This will do.” He set the lantern on a desk and gestured to the bed with his weapon. “Have a seat. I’m sorry if it’s awkward, asking you to share a bed. Tullen intimated to me that your affection for each other has cooled already.”

  Tavi’s eyes widened, and she turned to stare at Tullen. He had discussed their relationship with this man? Tullen shook his head, and unanswered questions wrinkled Tavi’s brow.

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Konner said, still enjoying himself in a way Tavi wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “I think I created an awkward moment.” He laughed and sat at the desk chair. When he gestured to the bed again, Tavi and Tullen sat, their arms still linked.

  “You can let go of each other,” Konner said. “Unless you want to keep touching elbows. Whatever works for you.” Tavi pulled her arm away. Konner propped the weapon on his knee, one hand holding it steady. “Time to get down to business. Tavi, I should make the ground rules clear. I’ve already told Tullen if his magic activates, I’ll shoot him. Regretfully, I’ll need to establish the same rule for you. If your magic activates, I’ll shoot Tullen.”

  Tavi’s mouth dropped open, and she was horrified to feel tears in her eyes. “Why don’t you let him go? I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

  “All in good time.” Konner inclined his head toward his prisoners. “Tell me, why are you in Savala?”

  “Life in the small town was dull,” Tullen said. “We were craving the sight of big buildings.”

  Konner’s smile disap
peared. “The sooner I have the truth, the sooner I’ll let you go. Don’t trifle with me. Where’s Reba?”

  “I thought she was with the Grays,” Tavi said. She met Konner’s calculating gaze. He probably didn’t buy her ignorance, and she didn’t really care.

  Konner stood and pressed the hand cannon to Tullen’s chest, holding the lit end of his cigar a few inches above the small hole at the top. “Why are you in Savala?” he asked calmly. He was met with silence, and he moved the cigar closer to the hole.

  “If you use that thing on him, I’ll never cooperate with you.” The strength and steadiness of Tavi’s own voice surprised her. “Then if you manage to keep me here, I’ll fight against you at every turn. Don’t test me on this, Konner Burrell.”

  Konner’s expression didn’t change, but he moved the cigar away from the weapon and took a step back.

  “Let him go,” Tavi said again. “I personally guarantee he’ll return to Oren. And I’ll stay with you and the Grays. Willingly. I won’t promise to help you in your cause, but I swear on my life, I will stay.” She didn’t take her eyes off Konner. She stood, lowered her voice, and spoke three more words: “Let Tullen go.”

  “Tavi, you can’t—” Tullen snapped his mouth closed when Konner swung the hand cannon toward him again.

  As Tavi waited for Konner’s response, she kept her expression calm, but her emotions were churning. She’d meant every word she’d said, and that fact left her befuddled. For half a year, the only feelings she’d experienced at a deep, guttural level had been anger and sorrow. Until now. A fierce protectiveness filled her. It didn’t drown out the anger and sorrow, but it linked arms with them, just as she had done with Tullen. And that protectiveness was joined by something else, something specific to Tullen, though she couldn’t name it.

  Konner peered at Tavi, who remained standing, and in his cold expression, she saw his strategic mind working. He was considering her words, weighing his every option. She knew he might win this war. He might take over the council. He might install a king. But with every bit of strength she possessed, she would prevent him from hurting her friend.