Facing the Gray

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “I don’t trust you either.” Ash’s heart pounded. There was a certain thrill in truth-telling. He was standing on a precipice, and his next words might push him over the edge or lift him to greater heights. He took a sip of water, then stated, “You’re power-hungry. That’s not such a bad thing, but I often wonder whether you have any sort of—what did you call it earlier? Moral code.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Ash shrugged. “You may not like the way I think. The feeling is mutual. But we’re working toward the same goal, Konner. A changed land. Every day that passes increases our risk of being discovered. When I saw the enthusiasm of the council today, I realized we’re ready. Or we can be, soon. We’ve been through a lot to get where we are. I don’t want to lose it all because we were too cautious.”

  Ash hoped his words were convincing. They should be: they were true, every one of them. Not the whole truth, but hopefully enough of it to sway the man in front of him.

  Konner pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, peering at Ash for a long moment. “Truth is a tricky thing,” he said, nodding slowly. “But in this case, I think it serves us well.” He picked up his fork and knife and cut another piece of meat. “What day did you have in mind?” He put the meat in his mouth and chewed, barely glancing at Ash.

  This is a test. Ash picked up his roll, tore off a piece, and spread butter on it. “I’ve been considering it,” he said, “but I can’t seem to come up with the perfect day. I think your mind is better suited to such things.” Casual deference. He wasn’t sure it was what Konner was looking for, but it was the best strategy he had.

  Konner swallowed his food, patted his mouth with his napkin, pushed out his chair, and stood. “It’s clear which day is most appropriate,” he said. “Let’s go to my study to discuss this further.”

  Ash stood. He glanced down at his nearly full plate, and his stomach growled in response. He sighed and followed Konner out.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The gifts Sava gives are beautifully diverse.

  I had a student whose touch gift allowed him to stop babies from crying. His mother had sworn he’d be her last child, but after his awakening, she went on to bear six more.

  In Tinawe, I saw a scent-blessed street performer who could tell every location a stranger had visited for the past week.

  I’ve even met a woman who could walk on water with her gifted feet, though she rarely used her incredible gift, due to her debilitating fear of drowning.

  -From Training Sun-Blessed Students by Ellea Kariana

  Evitt crouched between two of the hedges in Konner’s garden, listening. When he heard the front door open, he activated his gray gift, wincing at the searing headache it gave him. He crept to the central path.

  Ash, Konner, and Aldin walked toward him. Konner and Aldin carried closed drawstring bags. Ash opened the gate and held it for the other men, keeping it open long enough for Evitt to sneak out. As Evitt passed, he nodded his thanks, though Ash couldn’t see the gesture.

  The three men got in the waiting carriage and closed the door. As they situated themselves, Evitt placed both feet on the small step that hung below the door and grasped the luggage rails on top of the carriage. I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought.

  Evitt heard Ash say, “I’ve got a headache this morning. Let’s keep the curtains closed.”

  One of the passengers pulled black curtains across the carriage’s windows, and Evitt let out a small sigh of relief. With the curtains closed, he could release his magic if he needed to give it a break.

  From the front of the carriage, the driver called, “Are you ready, Mr. Burrell?”

  “Yes, let’s go.”

  Evitt drew in a sharp breath as the carriage began moving. But his grip on the luggage rack was steady, and his boots didn’t budge. He settled into the vehicle’s rhythm, reflecting on how he’d ended up in such a strange situation.

  Less than half an hour earlier, Ash had found Evitt in the garden. “Konner’s taking Aldin and me somewhere,” Ash had said. “I’d like you to come along as an invisible set of eyes and ears.”

  “Where are we going?” Evitt had asked. “How will I get there?”

  “I don’t know where we’re going. As for how . . .” Ash had explained his ridiculous plan, and Evitt had protested. But there didn’t seem to be a better option, and Ash had convinced him to ride on the outside of the carriage.

  Now here he was, riding through Savala, the air rushing past him as the vehicle moved through the city streets. It wasn’t so bad. If his magic hadn’t been so painful, he might have even enjoyed it.

  The carriage drove west through town. When they’d been traveling for some time, Evitt decided it was time to recharge his gift. If he didn’t have enough magic to keep him invisible once they were at their destination, it could be disastrous. With a sigh of relief, he released his gift and the pain associated with it.

  They turned onto a busier road where two children pointed and shouted at Evitt. The driver, oblivious to the man hanging off the side of his carriage, simply waved at the children with a cheerful “Hello, hello.”

  The carriage departed the city, and the cobblestones gave way to a bumpy dirt road. Evitt’s fingers cramped as he held the luggage rails tighter. Soon they turned onto a road that was little more than a wide path through a forested area. Evitt stifled several grunts as sharp branches scratched and stabbed him. At last the vehicle slowed.

  He activated his magic, and when the carriage stopped, he lowered himself to the ground and stepped out of the way. The carriage door opened, and the three men exited, the bags still in Konner’s and Aldin’s hands. They turned onto a narrow trail without acknowledging the driver as they left him behind.

  Evitt followed. After a quarter hour, the trees ended, and they entered a large clearing. Konner led Ash and Aldin to a shed at the far end of the clearing. Evitt stayed several feet behind, keeping his steps quiet.

  “I suppose you gentlemen are wondering what’s in these bags,” Konner said.

  “I’ll take a wild guess that Aldin’s contains black powder,” Ash said.

  Aldin held his bag up to his nose. “Smells like it!”

  Konner smiled. “This will be fun.” He opened the shed and pulled out a wide board. A splintered hole marred it, but most of it was still usable. He laid it in the grass. “We’ll use this as a legless table of sorts.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a roll of twine and two cylindrical metal containers with lids.

  Aldin picked one up. Evitt stood nearby, examining it the best he could. It appeared to be cast iron. “What are these for?” Aldin asked.

  “They’re for our big day,” Konner replied with another grin. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’re going to make a bomb.”

  Evitt’s head jerked, and he almost released his magic. He’d heard of bombs; everyone had. Armies had used them in the wars of old, along with various other weapons. But modern people understood that such items belonged in the past. Evitt felt a sudden urge to flee back to the carriage, but he forced himself to stay and watch.

  Konner got to work. After a few minutes, he held up the metal container, now filled with black powder. Several inches of twine stuck out of a hole in the cap. “This twine is treated so it will burn slowly down its length without going out,” Konner said.

  “Treated?” Ash asked. “How?”

  Konner wagged his finger at Ash. “You must let me have a few secrets.” He went back into the shed and returned carrying a short stool. With a youthful smile, he said, “It’s time to blow something up.”

  Konner, Ash, and Aldin walked to the middle of the clearing, followed by their unseen companion. Evitt’s stomach roiled from the pain of his gift and an underlying sense of dread. He swallowed hard, determined not to break his cover by vomiting.

  Konner set the bomb down and used a match to light the end of the stiff piece of twine. It looked like a wick of sorts, though Evitt doubted that was t
he correct term for it. Once it was lit, Konner placed the stool over the device. “Let’s go.” He walked back to the shed, and the others followed.

  “We’ll exercise extra caution and watch from behind the shed,” Konner said. “We can get out of the way if the results are more impressive than I’m expecting.”

  “How long will it take?” Aldin asked.

  “At least a quarter hour,” Konner replied. “The fuse should burn slowly.”

  Fuse. That’s what it’s called. Evitt considered where he should observe from. His first instinct was to join the men behind the shed until he considered how long they’d have to wait. It would be just his luck to be standing in front of Konner when his gift wore off. The man would probably throw a bomb at him.

  Evitt shook his head at the mental image, walked quietly inside the shed, and released his magic. He took a moment to appreciate the sudden absence of pain. Then he turned toward the shed’s interior, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.

  A small table sat in the corner, some papers on it. Evitt picked up the top one. It was a labeled diagram of a hand cannon, the weapon Ash had described to Evitt. Beneath that was a page covered in rough drawings and neat handwriting. At the top of the page was the heading, “Explosive Device.” The writing belonged to Konner; Evitt recognized it from times he’d snooped around in the man’s study.

  This was exactly the sort of thing Ash had hoped Evitt would discover. But Konner would probably notice if Evitt took the pages. His hands damp with sweat, Evitt examined the rest of the papers on the table. At the bottom he found another page of bomb-making instructions, slightly different than the first. Likely Konner had found the information in two different books. Evitt determined which instructions Konner hadn’t used, folded that page, and slipped it in his pocket. It felt heavy and conspicuous there, and he knew he wouldn’t relax until he handed it over to Ash.

  Evitt looked through the rest of the pages on the desk but found nothing else he thought he could get away with stealing. He positioned himself next to the open doorway, peeking at the bomb in the middle of the clearing.

  After several minutes, Konner said, “It should happen soon. Watch closely, but be careful. Especially you, Ash. I don’t want a one-eyed king.”

  The men were silent for at least five more minutes. With a loud sigh, Aldin asked, “How much longer?”

  “It’s not an exact sci—” Konner began, but he was interrupted by a thunderous BOOM accompanied by an orange fireball.

  Evitt reacted by throwing himself on the floor of the shed, arms over his head. At the same time, Ash shouted a curse. Half a second later, there was a thud on top of the shed roof.

  Evitt activated his mind magic again and exited the small building. Despite the thick, white smoke emanating from the site of the explosion, Konner, Ash, and Aldin rushed toward it. On the way, Ash and Aldin each picked up a piece of splintered wood. But they didn’t notice what Evitt saw when he looked back at the shed: the round top of the stool, sitting on the small building’s pitched roof.

  They drew closer to the center of the clearing, and Evitt had to stop. The other men were coughing due to the smoke, and he barely kept himself from following suit. It smelled terrible, like rotten eggs and urine. Evitt retreated and walked around the area. Dozens of feet away, he found more broken wood and a warped, cast iron canister.

  If black powder could do such damage to a sturdy stool and the bomb’s own metal casing, what would it do to buildings? What would it do to people?

  Back at Konner’s house, Evitt waited in the same place he always met Ash, between rows of hedges in the front garden. He waited for five minutes before Ash arrived.

  “How did everything go?” Ash asked.

  “Fine. Konner nearly caught me, though. When you were assembling the second—”

  “Shh!” Ash interrupted him.

  Evitt sighed. Ever since Tavi had been caught in the garden, Ash had worried she might be listening to their conversations. Evitt was tired of being vague, but he complied.

  “When you were making the second device,” he said, receiving a slight nod of approval from Ash, “I was walking around the area, and my magic wore off. I was out in the open, but Konner wasn’t facing toward me, thank Sava. I ran into some trees and let my magic recharge until it was time to leave.” Evitt took a deep breath, reliving a little of the panic he’d felt when the pain of his magic fled.

  “Did you hear or see anything useful?” Ash asked.

  Evitt smiled and pulled the paper out of his pocket. “This isn’t the version he used today,” he said, keeping his words ambiguous. “I hope he won’t notice I took it.”

  Ash smiled as soon as he began silently reading. “This is in his handwriting,” he said. “This is wonderful! We can use it to . . .” He trailed off, clapping Evitt on the shoulder.

  “Did you see this part?” Evitt wouldn’t say it aloud, but he pointed to a place near the middle of the page, where Konner’s neat handwriting detailed how to assemble a bomb that would cause even greater damage to buildings and people.

  Ash’s eyebrows rose when he read it, but he responded, “I’m sure he was just writing the various possibilities. We wouldn’t actually do this.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’ve done everything I can to be sure. He was just copying something out of a book and didn’t want to miss anything.” Ash gave Evitt a proud smile. “You did well today.”

  “I’m glad I could help.” Evitt smiled to cover the hollowness of the words.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  In sorrow, Relin spoke at last:

  “From simple folk to scholars wise,

  From humble huts to nations vast,

  Our wondrous world is built on lies.”

  -From Relin the Fierce, Author Unknown

  Ash sipped his tea, set the cup down, uncrossed his legs, and crossed them the other direction. The elegant, velvet-upholstered chair on which he sat was remarkably uncomfortable. He grabbed a pillow from the sofa next to him and put it at his back, but that just pushed him too far forward. He gave up and stood.

  “Oh dear, is the tea all gone? I’ll make more.”

  Ash turned toward the door where a servant stood. She looked to be about twenty, and when she’d seen Ash’s smiling face at the front door, she’d been smitten. He’d asked to speak with Councillor Hunt, who was holding a meeting in the ballroom. The servant had been terribly sorry but Councillor Hunt was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, although she would be positively delighted to take a message.

  Ash had widened his smile and asked if he could please wait inside until the meeting was over. The maid had consented with a delirious grin. Since then, she’d found seven reasons to enter the sitting room where Ash waited, an impressive feat since he’d only been there half an hour.

  He gave her another smile and gestured to the silver tea service sitting on a table. “There’s plenty of tea in the pot. You don’t need to make more. It’s quite delicious.”

  Before he finished speaking, she crossed the room and had the pot in hand. “Allow me,” she said, refilling his cup. She handed it to him. “Is there anything else I can do while you wait?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  She gave an old-fashioned curtsey, and Ash wondered if her legs were sore from performing that task so many times since his arrival. He nodded once, and she left the room.

  A few minutes later, voices reached Ash. The words were muffled, but it sounded like they were chanting something, probably the supposed prophecy Camalyn and Konner had written. It’s easy to convince people of a lie, as long as it benefits them, he mused. As the voices continued, he narrowed his eyes. It sounded like a large group. How many followers did she have?

  They soon quieted, but a few minutes later, he heard the chatter of casual conversation coming his direction. Ash walked to the sitting room doorway, which opened into the foyer. The first group of black-robed Karites rounded the corn
er. He saw men, women, and even a few young children. Older children were doubtless at school, being teased by their classmates for their all-black attire.

  The Karites paid him no mind as they walked by. More came into view, and Ash began to count them. He’d reached 237 when the last two people came into sight. Despite her thick veil and formless clothes, Ash immediately recognized Camalyn. Her eyebrows rose when she saw him, but then she looked away, continuing her conversation with her companion, a stout woman wearing the same Karite garb.

  The two women followed the rest of the stragglers to the front door and spoke with them for several minutes, during which Ash had to assure the servant twice that he needed nothing. At last, Camalyn and her companion bid the last few Karites goodbye and approached Ash.

  The servant came up to them, addressing the woman next to Camalyn. “Ma’am, this gentleman said Councillor Hunt was expecting him. He’s been waiting in the sitting room.”

  Ah, the owner of the home. Ash gave the woman a bright smile as she turned to examine him. Unlike her servant, she did not appear impressed.

  Camalyn placed a gloved hand on the woman’s arm. “I hate to impose, but could this gentleman and I converse in your sitting room?”

  “Of course.”

  The servant’s face lit up so brightly that for a moment, Ash thought she had magic shining from her skin. “I would be honored to bring you some refreshments!” she said.

  Ash was in the middle of declining when Camalyn interrupted, “No refreshments will be necessary. We’d like to be left alone until we leave.”

  The servant and homeowner turned and left without another word. Ash lifted a questioning eyebrow to Camalyn. “Magic?” he murmured.