Facing the Gray

by Carol Beth Anderson

  They reached the street in front of the council building. Odors filled the air, ranging from pleasant (food carts) to objectionable (thousands of sweaty bodies).

  A street vendor caught Tavi’s attention. “Relin’s sword for you?” he asked, holding up a very un-sword-like skewer with grilled meat and vegetables on it.

  The whole cart smelled delicious. Pala caught Tavi gazing longingly at it and ushered her away. “Who knows what’s in that?” the midwife chided.

  They made their way toward the council building, pushing through thick crowds. The marble steps in front of the building were teeming with people, but Tavi soon reached the platform at the top, using her small size to squeeze in between revelers. Everyone else followed in her wake, until they were inside the building’s large, crowded lobby.

  Savalans were proud of their council building, but most of them didn’t visit it often. So on Liberation Day, they squeezed inside to ooh and aah over architectural details and art, none of which had changed since their visits the year before. The large, bas-relief carving of Relin the Fierce, in a hallway leading to the stairs at the back of the building, was especially popular.

  Evitt quietly pointed out the planters where the bombs were hidden. He had explained that Ash planned to go around to each planter, removing dead leaves as if he were on the maintenance staff. While doing this, he would light the long-burning fuses.

  Tavi couldn’t believe the Grays’ plan could be so stupid and simplistic. Certainly Ash would look strange kneeling at one planter after another. Now that she saw the lobby, however, she realized there were too many people around for one odd man to stand out.

  Once they’d completed their walk-through, they found a corner where they could all stand together. As casually as possible, they surrounded Evitt. He ducked down, activated his magic, and disappeared. “I’m headed to the first one,” he said.

  Tavi followed him and stood next to the first planter on the right side of the room. When it moved a bit, she knelt next to it as if admiring the artwork painted on it. “Be careful,” she whispered, just as some soil spilled out the back of the planter. The hand that had displaced it was invisible, and it looked like the soil was jumping to the floor of its own volition.

  “Most of it’s buried,” she heard Evitt murmur back. “I’m digging it out.”

  No one seemed to be watching, but Tavi still felt as if a bright light was shining on her. Her upper lip began to sweat beneath her mask. After a couple of minutes, Evitt asked, “All clear?”

  Tavi looked around, checking to see if they’d attracted any attention. “All clear,” she confirmed.

  A canvas bag, the type thousands of people across Savala used at local markets, appeared in the shadows between the pot, the wall, and Tavi’s kneeling figure. She picked it up, stood, and returned to her friends.

  Next, Sall repeated the process. After about a quarter hour, each of the six Golds, including Pala, held a bag with a bomb. They tried to chat as casually as before, but Tavi could tell they all felt as uncomfortable as she did. They’d chosen to put all the bombs in separate bags, so multiple bombs wouldn’t jostle each other and create a spark, lighting any errant black powder on the devices. Despite their precautions, it was eerie carrying a weapon that could kill.

  The Golds surrounded Evitt again, and he reappeared. All of them but Tavi walked outside. She stayed in the lobby and activated the magic in her ears.

  “Can you hear me?” she murmured.

  “Loud and clear,” Tullen said.

  Tavi would watch for Ash’s arrival from the inside, and Tullen would stand outside, keeping an eye on the door. One of them was bound to see Ash enter. The other Golds would spread out without venturing too far away.

  Tavi played the part of a fascinated citizen, admiring the lobby’s art and features as others were doing. After half an hour of this, a loud clanging interrupted her boredom. She looked to her right where a man was enthusiastically striking a bell hanging from a long hook on the wall.

  When he was done, the crowd quieted. “The chamber gallery will now open in advance of today’s meeting,” the bell-ringer called in a rich baritone. Many members of the crowd walked down the hallway on the left side of the lobby toward the stairs, passing the carving of Relin the Fierce. The spectators included several children who would probably be disappointed once they realized how boring such meetings were.

  Tavi updated Tullen on what had happened. “The lobby isn’t as crowded now,” she whispered. But even as she spoke, more people entered. Soon, people again pressed into Tavi on all sides. Countless people jostled the bag hung over her shoulder, making her jump each time.

  “This is silly,” she breathed to Tullen. “I can’t even see over all these people’s heads.”

  His voice reached her ears. “Want to switch places?”

  “Sure.”

  Tavi passed Tullen as she exited. She found a place on the platform at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing at its edge. She tried to adopt the pose of a carefree Savalan woman. Or, more accurately, a carefree Savalan bird. Every so often, one of the Golds came to stand next to her, and she updated them on her lack of progress.

  At last, Tullen’s voice came into Tavi’s ear. “Ash just walked into the lobby from the hallway. He’s at a planter on the left side of the lobby.”

  Tavi smiled behind her mask. “We’re coming.” She caught the eyes of Jenevy, who stood near the stairs. Jenevy knew what all the Gray House residents looked like and would keep an eye out for them in the lobby. Together, the bluebird and the cardinal entered the building.

  Tavi and Jenevy wove through the crowds and found Tullen. He gave Jenevy the bomb bag he carried, then approached the planter. Ash was kneeling next to it, and beside him was a bucket containing a few dead leaves. His hand was buried in the pot, and he craned his neck, trying to see behind the thick shrub.

  Tavi watched Tullen kneel and lift his mask. She kept her ears tuned to his voice.

  “Looking for something?” Tullen asked Ash.

  Ash’s head popped up. “No, I—” he began. Then his eyes widened. “Tullen?” Ash’s gaze shifted to the side, and Tavi followed it to a thin, young woman standing nearby.

  Next to Tavi, Jenevy murmured, “It’s Wrey!”

  Tavi drew in a sharp breath. Wrey. Despite all Jenevy’s words about Wrey’s kindness, when Tavi looked at her, she saw only the woman who’d put Misty to sleep. The woman who’d made it possible for a monster to take Misty’s life. And likely Wrey would do the same now; she’d put them all to sleep, and they’d wake up as captives of the Grays. Or not wake at all.

  But Jenevy didn’t appear at all concerned. Her face broke into a wide smile as she approached Wrey. “It’s so good to see you!” Jenevy gushed. “It’s Jenevy—in case you can’t tell with this ridiculous mask I’m wearing. I’ve expected to hear from you the last couple of months, but you never sent a note. I hope that means you’re feeling better.”

  Tavi didn’t know why Wrey didn’t put Jenevy to sleep, then do the same to Tullen. Perhaps she didn’t want to attract attention. Tavi wanted to keep her eye on the thin woman with a gray sight gift, but she forced herself to turn her attention back to the planter.

  Tullen had replaced his mask. “I’ll explain this situation to you,” he said. “You can dig through every bit of dirt in this pot, and you won’t find your weapon. We’ve retrieved it, along with all the others.”

  There was a split-second blur of motion, and Tavi gasped to see Ash’s hand on Tullen’s throat. “You’re going return the weapons to me,” Ash said. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you try to stop me, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  Tullen’s face was pink, and his response came out as a strained whisper. “Look at the girl in the cardinal mask,” he said, one hand gesturing in Tavi’s direction. “It’s Tavi. And if you hurt me, I can’t guarantee your safety either.”

  Ash looked up, his eyes wide. He pulled his hand away from
Tullen’s throat. Tullen coughed several times and cleared his throat. “You’re coming with us.”

  “What if I don’t?” Ash asked.

  Tullen’s voice was angry. “Listen, despite what you just pulled, we’ll do our best not to harm you. I doubt you’ll get such a promise from Konner when he finds out you lost his bombs. Come with us, and you’ll be safe. You won’t be king, but that’s not going to happen, anyway.”

  Ash stared at Tullen for several seconds, then let out a long sigh. He looked up at Wrey again. “That’s Wrey,” he said. “She’s working with me against Konner. Will you treat her well?”

  “Of course,” Tullen said.

  The two men approached Wrey and Jenevy. Ash began explaining the situation to Wrey, but he got out only a couple of sentences before Wrey begged to come along. Tullen, Ash, Wrey, and Jenevy walked across the lobby. Tavi directed a withering glare at Ash and Wrey as they passed, but they both avoided her gaze. A minute later, she followed them out.

  Ash walked with his captors, wishing he could convince himself the whole scene was a dream. But it was all too real. Tullen held one of his arms, Jenevy the other. Wrey walked on Jenevy’s other side.

  Outside, as soon as they were swallowed by the crowd on the platform at the top of the stairs, Tullen said, “Stop here. Take your gloves off, Ash. Remember if you try anything, Tavi will go to the authorities for help. She’s listening to us right now.” He turned to Wrey. “It seems like you’re coming willingly, but we’ll turn you in too, if you try anything.”

  Wrey nodded. Ash took his gloves off, handing them to Tullen, who placed them in his pocket.

  “Keep your hands in sight, Ash,” Jenevy said. Ash did, holding his hands in front of him at waist-height.

  “We have a gift for you, to thank you for all you’ve done for us,” Tullen told him with a smirk. Jenevy pulled a bird mask out of her pocket and handed it to Ash. It was hideous, constructed of at least six different colors of felt. “Let me help you with that,” Tullen said, placing the mask over Ash’s face and tying it in back.

  “Wrey can wear my mask,” Jenevy said.

  “Good idea,” Tullen replied. “Once we meet up with the others, you can wear Pala’s. I don’t think the Grays will recognize her.”

  As Jenevy put her own mask on Wrey, Ash looked out over the crowds. To his right, he saw a large group of black-attired Karites. Camalyn is down there. He wished he could get her attention. She could use her gift to convince the Golds to let him go. But he didn’t even know which of the black robes and veils belonged to her. He closed his eyes briefly in frustration.

  Once Wrey was masked, Tullen and Jenevy led their captives down the stairs. They wove through the throngs of people before proceeding east down the street. Once they were past the vendors, the crowds thinned. Not long after that, they reached a ladies’ dress store that was closed for the day. They ventured behind the store and stepped onto a small, covered patio where two benches sat. Likely this was where men waited while their wives shopped.

  “I’d like you each to sit on a bench,” Jenevy said. “Remember, no magic.”

  Ash let Wrey sit on one before taking up residence on the other. He kept his hands in view.

  Tullen and Jenevy stood in front of the benches, keeping a close eye on their quarry. They seemed to be waiting for something. Ash didn’t mind waiting. It gave him time to think.

  What went wrong? He’d been so careful. Had Tavi or Tullen been listening when Wrey mentioned Liberation Day? Ash wondered if Wrey had said the day out loud on purpose; she seemed far too eager to go with these people. Even so, Ash was nearly certain no one had spoken aloud about the bombs, at least not at the Gray House or Konner’s house. Those were the two locations Tavi and Tullen were most likely to monitor with their hearing gifts.

  Even before Evitt had encountered Tavi in Konner’s garden, Ash had suspected she and Tullen might be listening to the Grays’ conversations. He’d spoken with Konner, stoking the glimmer of natural paranoia the banker had, telling him that any number of hearing-blessed citizens might be listening in on their conversations. They’d done the rest of their planning on paper or at remote locations that Tavi and Tullen couldn’t have known about. So how had the Golds caught him?

  Movement caught Ash’s eye. Tavi rounded the corner and joined them without a word. Soon after, others approached. They were all masked, but it was easy to discern who they were, now that he knew who to look for. There was Narre, accompanied by a young man, probably Sall. Reba came next. The older woman must be Pala. And another masked young man accompanied them. When the youth got closer, Ash barely restrained himself from gasping aloud.

  Evitt.

  All at once, it all made sense. Evitt had been furious the night before when Ash had refused to change his plans. And Evitt had seen where every bomb had been placed.

  Evitt turned on me. Ash wasn’t surprised by the anger that filled him, but he was caught off-guard by the pain he felt, deeper in his chest. He felt such an affection toward the young man, almost as if Evitt were his younger brother.

  “I trusted you,” Ash said when Evitt was close enough to hear him.

  Evitt turned away.

  Ash looked back at the rest of the group. They’d huddled up, and Tullen was talking to them, doubtless updating them on his big catch. Then Pala gave her mask to Jenevy, and as she put it on, the whole group faced Wrey and Ash.

  “We are the Golds,” Tavi said. “And we’re going to stop the Grays.”

  A chuckle rose from Ash’s chest, bursting out of the beak of his mask. The girl has a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t she?

  Narre stepped forward. “Ash, I can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you again,” she said. “Do you remember tying my hands to my ankles, so that if I used my gift to break the bonds, I’d break my own bones?”

  Ash did remember, and he wasn’t proud of it.

  “The restraints we’ll use won’t be so cruel,” Narre said. “I’d like you to sit straight up, please. You too, Wrey. You should be close to the back of your bench, without pressing against it.”

  Ash raised his eyebrows but complied. He saw Wrey doing the same.

  “Sall, if you wouldn’t mind assisting?” Narre asked. Sall came forward. “Ash, Sall is going to untuck your shirt,” Narre said. When that task was complete, she continued, “I’m going to put my hand underneath your shirt. I apologize for any discomfort this causes you.”

  Ash knew his eyes betrayed his confusion, but Narre knelt behind his bench without further comment. She must have reached through the gap between the seat and back of the bench, because Ash felt the cool skin of her hand snaking up his shirt. He couldn’t see what she was doing. Whatever it was, it took about half a minute.

  Narre returned to the front of the bench. Her hands glowed with golden magic. “If you try to lean forward,” she said,” you’ll notice your shirt is bonded to the wood of the bench. It’s a magical bond, and the only way for you to break it is to tear the fabric. That’s not as easy as it sounds. If you’ll excuse me, I have a couple more bonds to make, and then we’ll be done.”

  Ash tested her words, leaning forward. Sure enough, he was stuck. Narre unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and reached one hand into each. He saw no reason to fight back when he was surrounded by so many icy stares from people who would defend Narre in an instant. Narre’s palms, covered by the fabric of his sleeves, pressed together. When she moved her hands, his sleeves were bonded together. Neat trick. She repeated the process on the bottom half of his pants.

  Next, Narre approached Wrey. “Tullen seems to think you’re here willingly,” Narre said. “But I’m afraid I still have to treat you with caution.” She put her hands down the neck of Wrey’s dress and bonded the garment to the bench. Next came the sleeves, bonded together just as Ash’s were. Last, Narre gathered Wrey’s skirts in the back, twisting the fabric and bonding it to itself. If Wrey somehow got free of the bench and escaped, she’d walk with the stilted waddl
e of a drunk duck.

  “Why keep us here?” Ash asked. “Why not take us to whatever dungeon you’ve got prepared for us?”

  “No dungeons for you,” Reba replied. “Narre and I tried to convince the others to keep you in the back of a stuffy, enclosed wagon for a few weeks. What did you call it, Narre?”

  “Poetic justice,” Narre said.

  “Poetic justice,” Reba repeated. “But the others convinced us we’re better than that. We’ll take good care of you, whether or not you deserve it. But first we have something else to do.”

  “Sall and I are staying here with you to be sure you don’t try to get away,” Narre said. She looked at the group. “I think the rest of you should get going.”

  Ash watched as Pala, Tavi, Tullen, Reba, Jenevy, and Evitt turned and walked back toward the celebration. He spent a minute or so pulling against the bonds Narre had created, but they held tight. With a sigh, he leaned back against the bench. His eyes traveled to Narre and Sall.

  “What’s their plan now?” he asked.

  Narre laughed. “You really think we’ll tell you?”

  “We’re on the same side now. We all want to stop Konner.” He pointedly yanked at his bonds. “Besides, what am I going to do, go tell someone?”

  Sall folded his arms. “I have a hard time believing you’re suddenly our ally.”

  “I was planning to take Konner down! Didn’t Evitt tell you that?”

  “Of course he did,” Narre replied. “But we know you tried to light those fuses. We don’t trust you.”

  Wrey had been silent, her head bowed, but she straightened her back and neck and spoke. “You should let us help you,” she said. “I agree with you about the bombs; there was no excuse for that. If I could have stopped Ash, I would have. But I trust that he wants to stop Konner.”

  Ash gave Wrey a small nod of gratitude, but she looked away from him. He turned his attention back to Sall and Narre. Sall’s head was lit up, his mind gift giving him a golden halo. He was staring at Ash, who didn’t flinch.