by Jordan Rivet
“That’s my father,” Dara said. She couldn’t look at her friend, remembering Vine’s eyes when Dara had waved a weapon in her face. She took a shuddering breath. “All I wanted was not to be like him. And that’s what I’ve become. Another power-hungry Wielder who doesn’t care about the consequences to the rest of the world as long as I triumph.” She laughed hollowly. “It didn’t take long.”
Vine didn’t answer. She must realize Dara was right. She must see the parallels.
“He was always working to improve his Fire Lanterns,” Dara said. “I admired him so much as a child. Even though I couldn’t Work, I wanted to be as dedicated as he was. And now . . .”
“Dara, you’re not him.” Vine took her hand and squeezed it tight. “But you are like him. You have his dedication, his talent, and yes, some of his weaknesses. But you know where to draw the line. And you have put your life in danger countless times to protect the people you love. You won’t turn into him as long as you continue to draw those lines. Besides, you have people to hold you accountable. He has your mother urging him on. Forgive me, but I believe she’s as ambitious as he is and with a cruel streak in the mix. If there’s one thing you don’t have in you, it’s cruelty.”
Tears filled Dara’s eyes as Vine spoke, hot as ember, but she didn’t let them fall. Her parents had left her a heavy legacy. She wanted to overcome it, she really did. But she also needed to overcome them and take away the power they had seized in Vertigon. To do that, she had to step a little closer to that line.
“Wyla wants me to call Siv here,” Dara said. “She wants me to use him to become more powerful.”
“Are you going to do it?” Vine’s question was soft, almost lost in another roar of thunder.
“No.”
She may lose her arm for it. She may lose her freedom for it. But Vine was right. There was a line, and she couldn’t cross it. She would not use the man she loved to turn herself into a weapon.
“You have to leave the manor,” Dara said. “Find Rid, and get out of Pendark. I’ll try to find a way to break with Wyla, but you need to be out of the way.”
“We can do that,” Vine said. “I’ve been making friends here for a reason, after all.”
“Good.”
“Shall we take Rumy?”
“If you can.” His Fire would be useful when she confronted Wyla, but she didn’t want to get him killed either.
“Very well.” Vine stood and made to return to her bed. “We should get some sleep. There will be time to run in the morning.”
Dara shook her head. “Wyla will anticipate this. You should go before she has time to act.”
“As you wish.” Vine went to their wardrobe and pulled out a pair of saddlebags, already fully packed. Of course she’d be prepared. She was Vine Silltine. Within seconds, Vine was dressed in traveling clothes, complete with a cloak and a sturdy pair of boots. She gave Dara a tight hug, her soft hair falling over Dara’s hands as they embraced. “The Air Sensors will direct you to me if you have any trouble finding us. The channels are open once more.”
As Vine skipped to the door, Dara called out to her.
“Will you tell me what you heard? About who can preserve the Watermight?”
Vine looked at her serenely. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Dara sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s best if you wait until I’m out of Wyla’s clutches.”
“A wise decision. Take care of yourself, Dara.”
Dara felt terribly lonely when Vine left. They had been looking out for each other for a long time. Vine would pull Dara back from the brink when no one else could. But Dara was the only who could solve this problem. And she couldn’t let anyone else get swept up in the storm.
At last, Dara lay down for a night of fitful sleep, interrupted by the howling wind. She clutched the pendant Siv had given her as she drifted off, hoping it would help her remember why she couldn’t become like her father.
But before she could tell Wyla she would never comply with her demands or put Siv at risk for the sake of the power, Siv came to see them himself.
31.
The Bargain
SIV and Latch knocked on the iron gate of Wyla’s manor house first thing in the morning. In the end, they’d decided bringing the fight straight to Wyla would be easier than convincing her to meet them somewhere. The uniformed doorman tried to usher them into the courtyard, but they insisted on waiting outside the stone walls. They weren’t going to walk into the cullmoran’s nest if they could help it. Siv knew exactly what that was like.
He had been up all night arranging the pieces of his plan as if they were mijen tiles. Latch had helped, and he was far less surly than usual. He must have been awfully bored since arriving in Pendark. He even smiled when it was time to leave headquarters to head to Wyla’s.
Siv had warned Kres, Fiz, and Gull there was going to be trouble over breakfast. Rid was nowhere to be found. Siv urged the others to stay safely away from Wyla’s district that day.
“I don’t like my two insurance policies walking off together,” Kres said.
“We’ll be safe as gutter turtles in a burrow,” Siv said. “Besides, if we pull this off, I’ll have to leave the team anyway.”
“Team? Come now. We’re family.” Kres stood and began strapping weapons around his person.
Siv gaped at him. “What are you—?”
“We have your back,” Fiz said as he followed Kres’s lead. “Whatever trouble you’re in, I reckon we can get you out.”
Siv didn’t want to get anyone else involved in his fight. He turned to Gull. “Can you talk some sense into them?”
But the swordswoman was testing out the sharpness of her saber, her battle stare already in place. “That ever worked before?”
Latch gave a dry chuckle. “We probably shouldn’t turn up with too much armed backup. She might think we’re not there to talk.”
“That’s true,” Siv said. “Look, I appreciate this, but my plan requires a bit of diplomacy.”
“Well, aren’t you fancy?” Gull said.
Fiz thumped Siv on the shoulder hard enough to hurt. “He’s a regular little diplomat, our Slugger.”
“I’m serious,” Siv said. “She can’t think we’re attacking.”
“Very well, lad,” Kres said. “There’s a decent stilt tavern in the Jewel District. We’ll be close if you need us.”
“Thank you,” Siv said. “I promise to repay you if I ever get my position back.”
“What is your position exactly?” Gull asked. “All the hints are getting boring.”
“Kres can tell you all about it,” Siv said. Kres raised an eyebrow, then a glass. Siv knew he would enjoy telling that particular tale.
“And what’s Latch got to do with it?” Fiz asked.
“That’s an even better story,” Siv said. “But we’ll have to keep that one under wraps for a bit longer.”
“A shame.” Kres sighed. “That one’s my favorite.”
They all left headquarters together. Kres, Fiz, and Gull settled themselves within shouting distance of Wyla’s manor while Siv and Latch proceeded to her gates. Siv hoped he wouldn’t have to call on the pen fighters, but it was nice to know they were nearby.
It was still early when Siv and Latch reached Wyla’s place. The morning felt fresh, clean. The sun cast a sharp light over the canal running alongside the manor. The muggy scents of the city had been washed away by the torrential rains of the night before. The canals grew more pungent than ever as the temperature rose.
Despite the early hour, sweat trailed down Siv’s face as he waited for the doorman to fetch the lady of the manor. He feared Wyla wouldn’t let Dara join the conversation, but when the gates opened at last, Dara followed the Waterworker out of the manor. She looked tense and suspicious. And surprised. If anything, Dara looked more taken aback than Wyla to find Siv at their gates. Good. They needed her to be surprised.
The two women stopped in the stone gateway where th
ey could easily retreat behind the walls if necessary.
“Good morning, Lady Wyla.” Siv offered a courtly bow.
“You must be the young man I’ve heard so much about.”
Wyla was shorter than he’d expected and old enough to have entirely white hair. Her lined face was animated, and she looked at him as if he were a curious sea creature that had washed up on the beach.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Siv gestured to his companion with a flourish. “This is my friend Latch Brach.”
Wyla’s eyes widened. Latch stood back a few feet, arms hanging loose at his sides. He’d better be ready for this.
“Brach,” Wyla said at last. “This is interesting.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Siv said. “I see you know the Brach family.”
“By reputation only.” Wyla gave Latch a hungry look. Siv was relieved the fellow didn’t take off running in the other direction. That was what he would do if Wyla looked at him like that.
“He is the son of Commander Brach, the leader of the Soolen army attempting to conquer Trure.”
“They had succeeded, the last I heard,” Wyla said.
“They ran into a complication.” Siv could still hardly believe his own people had marched on the nation that had once been their closest ally. His relatives were imprisoned. Selivia was exiled. His grandfather was dead. No word of Sora or his mother had reached him in months. He would finally be able to help them now. If this worked.
Wyla raised an eyebrow. “A complication.”
“My friend Latch here can tell you all about it. It’s one of the many things he has to offer.”
“Offer?” Wyla’s voice sharpened like a knife. She shot another appraising look at Latch.
“Yes. But first, I want you to free Dara from her bargain.”
“What?”
The exclamation came from Dara, not Wyla. Siv hurried on before she could put an end to the entire proceeding.
“I want you to remove the bond on her arm and let her leave Pendark. You’ll relinquish all debts and claims to her services and grant her unconditional freedom this very day.”
Wyla chuckled. “Oh, you must have something very valuable indeed if you expect me to agree to that.”
“I offer you Latch,” Siv said. “He will replace Dara in your service.”
Dara stared at him as if he’d gone as mad as a povvercat in the rain. Fear and fury crossed her face in equal measures.
“I’d offer myself,” Siv said, “but I think you’ll find Latch is more useful than me.”
“More useful than my very talented apprentice and the King of Vertigon? He must be special indeed.”
Siv choked. From the bulge of Dara’s eyes, he knew that she hadn’t realized Wyla knew his true identity either. Did the whole damn city know who he was?
“Yes,” he said, recovering his voice with only a small hitch. “More useful than both of us.” He nodded to Latch, who hadn’t moved during the exchange. “Allow my friend to demonstrate. I think you’ll find his talents are worth bargaining for.”
Wyla gave a curt nod and turned to Latch. Judging by her reaction, Siv suspected Wyla knew a lot about the Brach family, perhaps more than Latch himself realized. She probably wouldn’t even be surprised by what she was about to see. Or at least the first part.
Latch advanced a step and halted, staring at the lintel above Wyla and Dara’s heads. He didn’t move his hands or give any indication that he was doing anything. Wyla leaned forward. Siv held his breath. He didn’t dare look at Dara.
Latch’s limbs began to tremble. Sweat broke out on his forehead. Then a trail of silvery Watermight rose from the nearby canal and snaked through the air toward the wall. It touched the stone gateway and melted into it as if it were the surface of a pond.
A loud crack split the air, and a large stone broke away from the top of the gateway. A shiny glimmer revealed a layer of ice where the stone was once attached to the wall. It drifted through the air and landed neatly at Wyla’s feet.
“What—?” Dara began.
But Latch wasn’t done. Two more stones lifted away from the wall and sailed high into the air. An instant later, they plummeted to the ground and smashed on either side of Wyla, scattering ice like broken glass. She didn’t even flinch.
“More,” she whispered.
Another stream of Watermight spurted from the canal. Siv had spent most of the night acquiring a supply of the substance for this demonstration. He’d searched out street urchins and gutter dealers, anyone who was holding onto a bit of Watermight while they waited for prices to go up. It had cost him every last coin he had saved from the Steel Pentagon.
The stones on either side of the gateway began to explode, one after another. Shards of rock flew through the air. Latch was sweating freely. He looked happier than he had the whole time Siv had known him. Who knew the Soolens could be as gleefully violent as the Pendarkans themselves?
Wyla certainly enjoyed the show. A film of silver-white covered her eyes, and she quivered with glee as Latch demonstrated his skills. Siv prayed she wouldn’t strike too soon. They couldn’t let her bind Latch in one of her bargain spells before they could get power into Dara’s hands. Just a few more minutes.
The largest stone yet exploded in a shower of dust, leaving a gaping hole in Wyla’s wall. Siv raised a hand.
“Now that you’ve seen what my friend can do,” Siv said, “I’d like to trade his knowledge of the secret Soolen Waterworkers in exchange for Dara’s freedom.”
Wyla smiled, the expression grandmotherly. Siv wouldn’t have been surprised to see her take out a pair of knitting needles.
“Your skills are impressive,” Wyla said. “But Dara can destroy walls too. I think you have something still more valuable to offer me, don’t you?”
Latch hesitated and looked at Siv. Their eyes met, but Siv didn’t say the words himself. This was Latch’s secret to offer. It was up to him to reveal the truth. Please, help me out here.
Latch didn’t speak.
Wyla took a step closer, making Siv and Latch jump. It was amazing how such a sweet-looking old lady could make them so nervous.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” she said. “Your father has brought his secret supply of Watermight to Trure, hasn’t he?”
Dara looked between them, clearly confused.
Latch inclined his head, jaw tense.
“Do you know how to do it?” Wyla said softly. “Can you preserve the Watermight so it can be carried far from the sea?” She almost quivered with anticipation. Oh, this was valuable information indeed, especially since Wyla apparently already suspected the secret resided with the Brach family. She was going to agree to the trade. This had to be the one thing she wanted even more than Dara.
Latch squared his shoulders and nodded. Siv held his breath.
Wyla opened her mouth to say more.
Then Siv felt a tickle of wind at the back of his neck, an unnatural stirring sensation.
And a gigantic wave crashed into them.
Water and power swirled around them like a tornado, shrieking, chaotic. Siv lost all sense of direction. He couldn’t see the others, couldn’t see Dara. A chill colder than a mountain blizzard surrounded him, freezing him in his boots. What was going on? Where had this attack come from?
Suddenly, a razor line cut through the tornado, forcing it to stop spinning. Water and Watermight thundered down, soaking the earth. Siv found himself on his knees. Dara crouched on the ground a few feet away, taking cover in the gateway. Wyla herself remained standing. She looked utterly furious.
“You think you can ambush me in front of my own home?”
“Wait,” Siv said. “This wasn’t our—”
Suddenly, a canal boat sped up to them, moving unnaturally fast. A dozen men piled out—men Siv recognized as Khrillin’s Waterworker thugs. What were they doing here? This wasn’t part of the plan. Wyla had been about to agree to the trade!
Wyla hissed, and water swelled up around her
. She was gathering power, preparing to hurl it back at her attackers. She wasn’t fazed by the surprise attack, but she was outnumbered, and Latch had destroyed a large section of her wall during his demonstration.
Khrillin’s men advanced, hands raised to seize control of the Watermight raging through the air. There were at least a dozen of them. Would it be enough?
Wyla called out a command, and armed guards in poison-green uniforms poured out of the manor courtyard. One grabbed Dara and tried to pull her back inside. Siv called out desperately to Latch. An instant later, the rest of Wyla’s wall exploded.
A concussive wave knocked Siv backward. Dust, rocks, and ice fell around him. Siv flung up a hand to protect his eyes and charged toward Dara. She freed herself from the guard in the confusion and stumbled forward to escape the others, who were already climbing to their feet. Siv wrapped her in his arms before she regained her balance. So much for their big plan. Dara was going to have to break the bond herself.
As his arms closed around her, a second wave of Watermight hit. The rush of water and power knocked them off their feet, but Siv kept his grip.
“What are you doing?” Dara said, struggling against him.
“It’s time to fight, Dara.”
“They won’t win.” She was right. Khrillin’s Waterworkers were already being forced back. Wyla was a hurricane of power and rage. A pile of rocks exploded nearby—Latch doing his part to add to the chaos—but Wyla appeared to be gaining the upper hand quickly. Firelord, she was powerful.
“It doesn’t matter,” Siv said. He refused to let go of Dara, even though she nearly twisted out of his grasp, fury granting her strength. That was good. She was surprised and angry, he held her tight, and the power whirled around them—hopefully the same conditions as last time she’d managed a Work of incredible power. And quite a bit more Watermight raged around them than he had been able to afford thanks to the intervention of Khrillin’s men. Time for the final ingredient.
“Quick,” Siv said. Keeping one arm around Dara, he pulled a Firebulb and all the Everlights and Firesticks he had been able to afford out of his pockets. “Use this to break the bond while she’s busy.”
