by Carol A Park
“I’d welcome any theory you had on how she got here, then…”
Azaz shook his head mutely.
Vaughn frowned. “She read the inscription…maybe that had something to do with it.”
Ivana joined the conversation, confirming his guess that she had been listening. “But our friend here just said if I don’t have Banebringer blood, it shouldn’t matter.”
“Were you using aether at the time?”
She shook her head. “The only aether mix I had on me was moonblood, and I wasn’t touching it.”
“Pardon,” Azaz broke in, “but what do you mean, was she using aether?”
“We can mix normal blood with that of a Banebringer, and then that person can use that particular aether.”
Azaz stared at him, his mouth agape.
“You knew that, right?” Vaughn asked. It seemed inconceivable that the gods—or at least whatever this creature was that worked for the gods—wouldn’t know that.
Azaz blinked slowly. “I…can see how that might work, in theory. But why would you do that?”
Vaughn scratched his head. “Why not?”
“You are a teotontl.”
Xiu had called him that, too. In fact, wasn’t that the word in Ivana’s first translation that she had no knowledge of, had said probably wasn’t even Xambrian? “I have no idea what that means. Is that, like, ‘Banebringer’ in your language?”
“Teotontl,” Azaz repeated slowly, and then he hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “‘Little god.’ Why would you contaminate your blood with that of a lesser creature?”
Vaughn burst out laughing. “Little god? Me? You must be joking. I’m despised and cast out—hunted, even. All of us are.”
Azaz said nothing, but the orange in his irises began to bleed into the whites.
“You didn’t know that? How would you not know that? And does that mean at one point my kind were considered…little gods?”
Azaz pressed his lips together. “I am out of place,” he said. “These are not questions that are mine to answer.” And then he turned away again, his face set into stone. Glowing, hot stone.
Vaughn carefully moved back toward Ivana. “Did you hear the rest of that?” he whispered.
“Yes. But in Xambria and Yunqi, they treat their Banebringers differently. I’m almost certain in Yunqi they are, in fact, highly revered.”
He knew that. He did. But it still struck him as insane.
“Highly revered is different than being so…superior that to even mix our blood with someone normal would be abhorrent.”
She cast him a wry look. “Apparently, Banebringers were once the nobles of the world.”
Vaughn pondered this. It seemed so incredible to him. And arrogant. And how had Azaz not known about Banebringers’ current plight? He’d seemed surprised and perhaps even put out by the information.
Azaz had moved farther away from them, making it clear he had no intention of answering any more questions.
Which was too bad. Because Vaughn had a least a hundred more.
Xiu’s rock giant carried them for what seemed liked forever before it slowed again. Vaughn had settled himself down in a nook that seemed safe and fallen asleep, when suddenly, the change in speed roused him. He poked his head back up again.
The terrain had changed. Behind them lay the pockmarked plains. To their right, the beginnings of mountains rose from the horizon. And directly in front of them was a wide river of tumultuous black water.
A few dozen feet past the opposite bank, the land disappeared into a heavy white fog. Vaughn could see shapes in the fog, shifting, growing, shrinking, but he couldn’t make out what any of them were.
Azaz made his way over to where Vaughn and Ivana stood. “We’re here,” he said.
“Where, exactly, is that?”
Azaz gestured. “The final divide.”
“Wait… There really is a river?”
Azaz didn’t respond. “Wait here.” He catapulted over the edge of the giant’s hand.
Vaughn looked over the edge. Azaz was striding toward the edge of the river. The already churning water swirled and eddied, and a moment later, a creature began to emerge from the water.
It looked like an enormous, distorted dog. It stood, dripping on the bank, its head bowed to the shorter Azaz.
Vaughn couldn’t hear any words pass between the two creatures, but after a few minutes, the dog turned and bounded back into the river, disappearing under the surface again.
Azaz returned to the giant. It picked Azaz up and placed him back in its hand.
“We will cross,” Azaz said. “As Xiuheuhtli anticipated, Thaxchatichan will gladly receive you.”
Vaughn breathed out. “Great. Progress.” He flashed a smile at Ivana, but she didn’t return it.
True to Azaz’s word, the stone giant waded slowly into the river. At the center of the river, the water rose to the giant’s waist, and Vaughn was afraid that even this giant would be swallowed. But from there, it pushed on, and the water remained level.
Vaughn couldn’t help staring down into the depths of the water. Something black and spiny crested the surface and then disappeared again. “Is there something in the water?”
Azaz looked amused. “There are many somethings in the water. Please don’t fall in. You are not meant to be in this land—to traverse this test or any other. You would fail.”
Vaughn glanced at Ivana, and she shrugged.
It didn’t take the giant long to cross the raging river, though the current was so strong that even the giant had to push against it. Vaughn couldn’t imagine anyone less than a rock giant traversing it.
The rock giant reached the other side and stood at the edge of the fog. There, it lowered its hand for the three of them to climb out.
Azaz pointed toward the fog. “You are beyond the dangers of the abyss now, and the fog will not hurt you as long as you keep moving forward.” He paused. “I will offer you one word of advice: Stay alert. Once you step through, you are not beyond all danger.” He bowed. “A xchotli of Thaxchatichan will meet you on the other side. There, you will be on your own to accomplish your goals. Good luck.”
Not beyond danger? On their own? Good luck? That sounded ominous. “Will Thaxchatichan not help us?” he asked. “I am one of her Banebringers, after all.”
Azaz didn’t answer. He merely climbed back into the giant’s hand, which turned and splashed back into the river, crossed, and disappeared into the distance.
Vaughn glanced back into the depths of the black river. Then looked ahead into the fog and shivered. “Well.” He held out his hand to Ivana. “Shall we?”
Ivana took Vaughn’s hand; she had no desire to be lost in this ominous fog. They stepped into it and immediately sight and sound were lost to her. She could feel the press of Vaughn’s hand, for which she was grateful, but otherwise, the deceptively bright fog felt oppressively dark. She could see nothing beneath her feet, nothing to either side, and she heard nothing other than the hollow thud of her own footsteps and the beating of her heart.
They walked on.
She wasn’t sure how they would know they weren’t just walking in circles, but Azaz had seemed sincere enough in his duty to deliver them to their next guide, so she tried not to think about it and kept moving forward, as he’d suggested.
Mist clung to her hair, and her shirt dampened. Dark shapes swirled around her, and after a time, she was certain she heard whispers.
Vaughn’s grip tightened, and she put her other hand on his arm, just to be on the safe side.
They didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure if he could have heard her if she tried.
The whispers grew louder, as if an initial dozen had been joined by a hundred more whisperers. She felt, somehow, that they were whispering about her, but the words were unintelligible.
Ivana.
She almost stopped, but remembering Azaz’s words, she pressed her lips together and kept walking.
Monste
r… the darkness hissed. Monster.
A thousand more joined the chorus. Monster. Monster. Monster.
Her heart started beating harder and faster. She willed her eyes forward, though the shapes now seemed to take human form around her. She would not live this nightmare.
Vaughn faltered, tugging her back.
The shapes loomed in closer.
“Keep going,” she hissed, yanking him forward.
He started walking again, but his hand trembled under her grasp.
She wondered what the darkness was whispering to him.
The face of her father appeared in the air in front of her. She started, and then closed her eyes. She didn’t need to see in this place anyway.
So they continued until their steps began to falter from exhaustion. Neither of them had slept much since the night they’d entered the portal—and though Ivana had no sense of how much time had passed, they had hardly been idle.
Perhaps Azaz had been wrong. Perhaps they would wander in this fog forever.
The fog lifted.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Helpless No More
“Driskell.”
“Damn demonspawn caused all this ruckus. They ought to round ’em all up and drown them in the ocean.”
“Driskell!”
“Bloodbane can drown right? Take ’em out on a boat. Why has no one thought of that yet?”
“Driskell!”
Driskell’s hand jerked across the page, leaving a jagged line across the notes he was supposed to be taking.
He cleared his throat and looked up, trying in vain to clear the vestiges of the conversation he had just overheard at Tania’s house from his mind. “My lady?”
Nahua was staring at him. The meeting was over, and the room was empty of all but him and Nahua.
He looked down at his notes. And he had recorded barely a page.
His face heated and he spread a hand over the notes, though she had surely already seen his meager offerings.
Nahua sat on the edge of the table. “You’ve been distracted the past couple of days.” She nodded toward his notes. “This isn’t like you. Anything you’d like to share?”
He swallowed. “I’m so sorry, my lady. It won’t happen again.”
She studied him for a moment. “I know it’s been difficult, keeping this all so quiet. Tania’s family must be frothing at the mouth.”
Yes. Yes, that was it. The perfect excuse. Besides, it wasn’t completely a lie. They were. It just wasn’t what was bothering him so much that he couldn’t do his job.
So, he hesitated, then nodded. “I was just thinking about the last conversation they had around the dinner table. Her uncle suggested rounding up all the Banebring—I mean, Gifted—and tossing them in the ocean, so the bloodbane would drown too.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m afraid when they find out what’s happening, they’re going to disown me for being part of it.”
There. That was close enough to the truth.
“You’re just doing your job, Driskell,” Nahua said gently. “If it comes to it, those of us in charge will be the ones to blame. The ones to face the worst consequences.”
He felt sick to his stomach, deceiving Nahua like this. What if he just told her? She…She wouldn’t care, right? She seemed to be rational about the others. Maybe—
“Perhaps remind her uncle that you certainly won’t earn any points toward advancement if you’re proven to be untrustworthy,” Nahua added. “He’ll respond to that, I’d wager.”
He looked up at her, and she winked at him.
His stomach was in a full-out revolt now. Three days ago, he would have given anything to hear those words drop from her mouth. How could he tell her that now, it didn’t matter?
She furrowed her brow and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re taking on a distinct green hue,” she said. “Perhaps you should go home and lie down. Any tasks you have for this afternoon can wait. This has been an understandably stressful time for you—for all of us.”
He nodded mutely. She gave his shoulder a squeeze and left the room.
Driskell slumped down in his chair and buried his head in his arms on the table. He was doomed.
Finally, he roused himself. He’d take Nahua’s advice. Go back to his room, take a nap. Or better yet, maybe he’d go have a nice game of tapolli at Tamal’s.
His head was down all through the hall, down the steps of the civic hall, and out the second gate, deep in thought, so he didn’t see Danton when he ran into him from behind.
“Oh!” Driskell said. “I’m sorry—you’re back?”
Danton turned and blinked at him, as if surprised to find him there as well. “Yeah,” he said. “A few hours ago. Just got done debriefing with Yaotel. It’s…” He shook his head. A shadow passed over his face, but it brightened again. “I was going to grab a pint. Want to join me?”
Driskell hesitated. He could tell Danton. He’d already thought about it, even. Maybe Danton could help him somehow. Give him tips as to how to hide it. It would…just be good to tell someone. “I don’t want to stop you from getting a drink,” he said, “but do you have a few minutes? I have a question for you. A, uh, sort of…confidential question.”
Danton didn’t miss a beat. There were certainly enough confidential events transpiring that such a request wouldn’t seem strange. “Sure thing. I can get a drink later. Want to go back to the civic hall, then?”
“It’s more of a personal question. Maybe…your barracks?”
That did prompt a raise of Danton’s eyebrow. “No problem.”
Danton dragged a chair into his small room, shut the door, and then sat down on his bed.
It was the first time Driskell had been in one of the rooms set aside as private chambers for the Banebringers since any of them had moved into them. Danton’s had two cots and a small table holding a washbasin and a ceramic pitcher—and that was about it.
It was sparse. An inn would have been nicer.
“I’m sorry,” Driskell said, settling into the chair and feeling guilty for his small but comfortable room in the government dormitory. “I know this isn’t exactly the lap of luxury, but…”
Danton shrugged. “I’ve slept in a lot worse for a lot longer,” he said. “Besides, it’s only temporary, right?”
That was the idea, anyway. “Right. But I mean, if you need anything… Maybe we could get you all some rugs or something.”
Danton scratched his chin. “Is this what you wanted to talk about? The furnishings in the new Ichtacan headquarters?”
Driskell rubbed his thighs with sweaty hands. “No. I’m stalling. Where’s Vaughn? Aren’t you rooming with him?” He didn’t know Vaughn as well as Danton and didn’t want a surprise visit in the middle of his confession.
The shadow passed over Danton’s face again, and he bit his lip. “He… I don’t know, for sure. He disappeared. I mean, in a less conventional way, for him.”
Driskell was momentarily caught off-guard. Yaotel had briefly explained Vaughn’s side mission to Tanuac in a semi-private meeting—Driskell thought mostly so Tanuac wouldn’t be worried about yet another Banebringer going missing. Yaotel had seemed dismissive of the idea that Vaughn’s plan would work. “He disappeared? You mean, he really went through that doorway or whatever it was?”
Danton spread his hands out to his sides. “Maybe? Who knows? But there was no body, and no bloodbane summoned, so I guess we can hope. Yaotel’s…well, I don’t think he’s pleased. He has some important task for Vaughn, and now we have no idea when he’ll be back.” Danton swallowed. “But anyway. What did you want to ask me, then?”
Now that it had come to it, Driskell didn’t know how to say it. He wrung his hands together, took another deep breath, and then exhaled.
“Driskell,” Danton said. “What in the abyss is wrong?”
“The sky-fire,” Driskell began. “I…I think I…” He rolled up the leg of his trousers; easier to just show him. The scab had shrunk in the couple
of days since the sky-fire, but it was still a visibly silver-ish patch on his knee.
Danton looked at his knee while Driskell’s heart pounded wildly. Why was he so nervous? Danton was a Banebringer. He wasn’t going to reject him or judge him or tell someone else. Right?
“Oh,” Danton said softly. “Well, damn.”
Driskell swallowed. “I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry for bothering you. I-I didn’t know who else to go to.” And he had felt about ready to burst if he didn’t tell someone.
Danton leaned back on his hands and studied Driskell’s face. “Anyone else see?”
Driskell shook his head. “I was alone.”
“So you’re lucky. You don’t have to run or abandon your current life. You just do everything you can do to hide it and hope no one finds out.”
Driskell rubbed his hands on his trousers again. “I-I was planning on proposing to Tania in only a few weeks. I have everything planned. Her entire family already knows. My family knows. She knows it’s coming; she just doesn’t know when. Do I still do it?” He licked his lips. “Do I tell her beforehand, if so? If I don’t, how could she ever forgive me if…” He pressed his lips together, feeling like he was going to vomit.
Danton rose and poured a glass of water, then handed it to Driskell and sat back down. “I hear you. But I don’t have an easy answer for you,” Danton said. “There are people who take it okay. And then there are other people, people you think you know, people you thought cared about you, and they turn on you.” He looked down at his hands.
Danton’s family had betrayed him, Driskell recalled.
“You tell them, you take a chance. Maybe they keep your secret, maybe they even become an ally. Maybe they turn on you. And if they turn on you, your chance at hiding it, at a relatively normal life, is gone. You have to run.”
“But I can’t marry Tania without telling her. I can’t.” It would be wrong.
Danton looked up. “Look, I don’t know your girl, and I’m hardly an expert on that sort of thing. But if that’s the case, you have two options: you take a chance and hope for the best, or you break it off and say nothing.”
