Salvation: Saving Setora Book Seven

by Dark, Raven

  That Sheriff wouldn’t let me near him.

  The notion cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

  Someone was always there to distract me, to talk about anything other than Sheriff’s condition. Meditating with Hawk usually gave me peace, calming and helping me focus. But it did nothing for the restlessness and anxiety that ate at me now. I had to wonder how Hawk stayed so calm.

  Pale grey light was starting to chase away the darkness from the sky by the time Doc finally came out of the infirmary cave again. I guessed it was about five in the morning. Despite the drop in temperature that made the air pleasantly cool, Doc wiped sweat from his tired face.

  Sitting across from me by the cookfire in his meditative position, Hawk lifted his head, and the two of them exchanged a meaningful look.

  “Can I see him, Doc?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “Not just yet, dear. He’s resting now. Can you call the guys, Hawk? We need to talk. Setora can listen in, too.”

  I swallowed hard at the solemn way he’d said that.

  Hawk stood, gently taking me with him. “Come on, Kitten. Club meeting.” He whistled, the sound carrying over the camp. He waved to the men. “Bear, you stay with Sheriff for now.”

  Bear headed into the infirmary.

  While it felt good to be included in the meeting, understanding made my stomach tighten with the knowledge as to why I was allowed to be part of it. The situation was serious enough that Doc felt I needed to know everything he told the men.

  “The rest of you, we’ll talk in here.” Hawk took my hand and strode toward the cavern across from the infirmary. Pretty Boy, Steel, and Doc followed, while those of Hawk’s guardsmen who weren’t on watch waited by the fire with Blade and Grim.

  It was unsettling to hear Hawk taking charge like this. He was the Under General, and while I’d always known what the role meant, I’d never been prepared to face a situation where Sheriff wasn’t the one giving the orders. It hurt to realize he couldn’t, sending a myriad of unwanted conclusions and implications swirling through my mind.

  The General’s condition was temporary. Somehow, Doc would find a way to reverse it. He had to. He just had to. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let my mind go to that dark place we would be in if he didn’t.

  Hawk seated himself on a log near the back of the cavern, pulling me onto his lap. Everyone else gathered around. “So, what’s the prognosis, Doc?”

  Doc sighed and grabbed an empty food crate, set it between Hawk and Pretty Boy, and straddled it.

  “Okay, so, I’ve already told Sheriff everything I’m going to tell all of you. He’s stable, but exhausted. The fever went down, I’ve started him on the antibiotics, but for now, rest is what he needs. So I gave him something to help him sleep.”

  “You managed to drug Sheriff without him taking your head off?” Pretty Boy teased.

  Doc gave a tired smile. “You know him. I told him he needed to sleep, and he fought me tooth and nail on it, but I stuck him in the arm with a needle. He was out before he knew what I’d done.”

  My jaw dropped, and I fought a nervous smile. Sheriff would give Doc an earful when he came to. But I also knew Sheriff well enough to know Doc didn’t have a choice. Instead of staying in bed and recuperating, the General would have been running around and barking orders—or doing so as best he could without his sight—insisting we be on the move. He would have probably demanded we find Julian’s men and get them to lead us to him as soon as Sheriff found out about Tahmi. Sheriff would never have admitted it, but he wasn’t in a condition to fight Julian, or his men, and he wouldn’t have been even if he could see.

  Steel snorted. “He’s gonna be pissed at you when he wakes up, Doc.”

  “Yeah, well. He needs to rest, and he wouldn’t have cooperated unless I knocked him out.”

  “Then we should wait and have this meeting when he’s awake,” Pretty Boy growled.

  “He’ll be out for at least a few hours. Besides, he wanted me to tell you to have the meeting now, without him.”

  The men exchanged a look full of meaning I didn’t understand.

  Why would Sheriff want a club meeting without him?

  Doc ran his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair as he went on. “So, first of all. It took some digging, but I finally figured out what Damien’s asswipe doctor did. Based on what Setora’s told me about those drops, I pinned it down to three agents that affect a person’s sight and which are administered with a dropper. I won’t bore you with the medical details, but I had to run tests to figure out which one was used that would cause the most damage to the eyes.”

  Pretty Boy leaned forward on his knees, his brow furrowed with concern. “How long does it last?”

  “It’s not that simple. Two of the agents have effects that only last a day or so, but that’s in repeated doses. They last long enough to scare the shit out of the victim, but that’s all. The third agent is a little more complicated, and it’s much harder to reverse its effects.”

  “But there is a way to do that, isn’t there?” Hawk asked.

  “Yes, there is—”

  “Then do it, for fucks sake!” Steel snapped.

  “Steel,” Hawk drawled, then looked at Doc to go on.

  “I can’t.” Doc bowed his head for a moment, then met everyone’s eyes. “Here’s the thing. That doctor used cortimine.”

  I looked at Hawk, unfamiliar with the name. Hawk’s chest expanded, and he put his head back.

  “You know what that is, I take it,” Doc said.

  Hawk held me more firmly against him. “Yes. It’s designed specifically for torture. Vision can be restored, but only if the antidote to the cortimine is delivered soon enough.”

  “It’s been outlawed by the Reach because of its psychological effects.” Doc shook his head in disgust. “Look. If the effects of cortimine are reversed within the first twenty minutes or so, a person’s sight is restored to normal. But it’s been well over that since it was applied.”

  It had been hours. My stomach sank.

  “Wait a minute.” Pretty Boy’s eyes flashed. “Are you saying there’s no way to—”

  “Take it easy, Pretty Boy.” Doc glanced a him. “There are options.”

  Pretty Boy scoffed and shot to his feet, pacing the cave like an angry cat.

  Everyone fell silent. It was a deep, oppressive silence, like a dark cloud that settled over all of us. With Doc’s words reverberating in my head—Sheriff would see again!—I looked around at the men, wishing I could say something, anything to break this awful silence. It seemed no one else knew what to say either. Hawk held me tight, and I could hear the calming rhythm of his breathing.

  I had the terrible feeling that his calmness took effort; it was too modulated, as if he was consciously making himself breathe in and out.

  Shock radiated from everyone until it seemed to permeate the air itself.

  Hawk cleared his throat, and when he spoke, I thought his voice sounded a little hoarse.

  “Before we start discussing those options…” He looked at Doc. “How long before Sheriff will be well enough to hold church? There’s something I’ve been thinking about that I’d like to suggest to him.”

  Doc’s lips pulled into a wince so brief I might have thought I’d imagined it. “Before Sheriff passed out, he said he wanted you to lead the meetings, Hawk. For now, at least. What was the suggestion?”

  I glanced up at Hawk when I felt him tense. His expression gave away nothing of his emotions, but I knew he had to be feeling the same thing I was. To say that it was strange for Hawk to conduct a meeting, for there to be one without Sheriff, was an understatement. Something darker, something I couldn’t explain, filled his eyes, then his expression cleared, his mask of stoicism once more sliding into place.

  Hawk drew an audible breath. He gently lifted me off his lap, and Steel patted the log beside him. As Hawk spoke, I sat beside Steel who put his arm around my shoulders, a heavy, reassuring presence that ground
ed me.

  “Well, on the way here, I was thinking about what our next step should be,” Hawk said. “At Delta, I sent out a letter to my tai dan, hoping that Master Leif would have some ideas about what to do about Julian. He hasn’t responded.” Hawk scowled, seeming to mull over this before continuing.

  “Now that we know Julian is a real person—and that he has men out there looking for Setora…” He paused. “I think we should pay him a visit. That’s what I was going to suggest to Sheriff.”

  My gaze shot to Hawk’s. A visit to his master. My heart sped up. I glanced at the others, noticing the surprise on Steel and Pretty Boy’s faces. They both looked like they were about to say something, but Hawk spoke up first.

  “Doc, let’s go over these options you mentioned, and we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

  The calm and logic in Hawk’s voice wrapped itself around me. It made me feel focused and safe, hopeful.

  Doc nodded and leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “Well, going to the Yantu seems like a good plan insofar as helping Setora. Option one, we split up. You and your guards take Setora to your master while the rest of us bring Sheriff back to the Grotto. I would have access to my infirmary there. I can call in an eye specialist to have a look at him. Option two, while you and Setora go to your master, the rest of us take Sheriff to the Reach. It’s far, almost a three-week trip, but there are lots of specialists there, and someone in the Reach might have a way to help him.”

  “Or…” Hawk paused and met everyone’s gaze. When the men waited for him to continue, he straightened. “There is a possibility that the Yantu may have a way to help Sheriff.”

  Doc blinked. “You’re joking.”

  Hawk shook his head. “It’s a possibility. As you know, there is a risk in going to see Master Leif, Doc. The Temple of Umbi does not allow outsiders beyond its gates, and they rarely allow themselves to get involved in the affairs of the outside world. Master Leif may refuse to help not only Sheriff, but Setora as well.”

  “You gotta be kidding, Hawk.” Pretty Boy shot to his feet. “Are you telling me your master would turn us away when he knows he may be the only one to help Setora or bring Sheriff’s sight back? I thought the Yantu were all about helping people. What kind of spiritual leaders are these Yantu if they’d turn people away who need their help?”

  “I understand how you feel, Pretty Boy,” Hawk said, “but it is what it is.”

  Pretty Boy huffed, but said nothing, shaking his head.

  “If we go to the Reach, it will pose its own risks.” Doc massaged his forehead. “Not only is it farther away, but there are several territories we can’t risk going through. We’d have to go straight through Zone 7, and it’s run by a captain that makes Damien look like a pussy. And there are a dozen gangs like Saketh’s between here and the Reach.”

  “That’s all we need,” Steel muttered. “We’re not taking Setora near places like that.”

  “And after what you told me about the Reach, I don’t like the sound of that place either,” Pretty Boy growled, his eyes intent on me for some reason. “The Yantu might be a bunch of selfish pricks, but we’re not letting those doctors near her.”

  “You remember what I told you about the Reach, Hawk.” Doc glanced at him with a meaningful look that made me wonder what it was I didn’t know about the Reach.

  “Yes. Agreed. Going there is not an option.” Hawk glanced around at everyone, including me. “If anyone else has other ideas, let’s hear them now.”

  No one spoke.

  Silence descended once again. I ran the options through my head, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

  Did we go to the Temple of Umbi and see Hawk’s master? That notion filled me with an odd mix of excitement and fear.

  Did we go to the Reach? I shuddered at the thought of that, since my only experience with them had been Doctor Olan, and he’d betrayed us.

  Did we go back to the Grotto and let Doc call in a specialist? One who might not be able to help Sheriff or me at all?

  And wherever we chose to go, did we split up or stay together?

  I didn’t know what my men might choose to do, but whichever path we chose, it raised a question. Every time we went on a journey like this, danger managed to find us. What would be waiting for us this time?

  “If all who are the Gift bear the bonds of silence, one must learn to speak.

  If all who would bring salvation are on their knees, one must learn to stand again.”

  -Vol’ilisi Ali’san of Crite,

  First Freedom Fighter under the Banner of Her Eye,

  one year after the End of the New World

  Chapter 2

  Hawk’s Choice

  “Well, Hawk? It’s your call.”

  Doc’s words shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but when he said them, for a moment I just blinked at him as if I hadn’t been sure he was talking to me.

  Except he was.

  Wings of the Maker, everything about this felt so wrong.

  True, it wasn’t as if I was suddenly being patched in as General. This was a temporary setback, nothing more. Sheriff’s blindness could be cured in a couple of weeks, or less, depending on the treatment, especially if we decided to go to the Yantu for help. I had to believe that it was temporary, just as I had to believe Master Leif wouldn’t refuse to help us if we went to him. What’s more, I was only being asked to make decisions now because Sheriff was drugged and out cold. And yet I couldn’t help the unsettled sensation in my gut.

  My sitting where Sheriff should have been, at the proverbial head of the table, making decisions he should have been making, left me feeling incredibly out of place, and, if I was honest, out of my depth. It also brought the ramifications of Sheriff’s condition, the realization of what would happen if it became permanent, too close to the surface.

  I shook the thoughts off. None of us, least of all me, should have been thinking like that. We weren’t there yet. Not by a long shot.

  When Doc looked at me, waiting for me to tell everyone the next step, Setora had stared up at me, her big violet eyes filled with shock and worry, as if hearing Doc’s words sent the implications home with new clarity. I could see it in her eyes, her thoughts were going to the same dark place we all were struggling not to let ourselves fall into.

  A sudden burst of rage with Damien and that doctor of his fueled my blood. For what they’d done to my Brother. My leader, my best friend.

  I shoved the emotion down before it could undermine my focus, walled my mind up in its steel Fortress, and massaged Kitten’s back, hoping to give her my strength. Then I cleared my throat.

  “The next step is obvious. We’ll go to the Temple of Umbi and get Master Leif to help us with Setora, then see about him helping Sheriff with a cure. The Yantu have ways of healing people that most others don’t know about.”

  Pretty Boy opened his mouth as if to speak, but I put up my hand, and he closed it.

  “There is a risk that my master will say no, but I’m going with my gut on this one. I think it’s our best option. And I don’t feel right about us separating. That asshole Tahmi is probably looking for Setora, so we’ll take precautions and watch out for him, but there isn’t time to go after him now. One good thing about going to the Yantu is that Tahmi won’t be able to touch us once we’re at the temple.”

  At the mention of Julian’s captain, Setora tensed until I rubbed her ankle.

  “We leave as soon as Sheriff’s able to travel. By carriage, barring no surprises on the road, we’ll get there in five days,” I added. “But I want to get there as quickly as possible. It won’t be an easy trip.”

  “Good plan.” Steel leaned forward. “I’m guessing there are Dregs, not to mention other nasty surprises between here and that temple.”

  “It’s not just that. There will be obstacles to get through in order to reach the temple. It’s situated to make it difficult for outsiders to find it.”

  “Of course it is,” Pretty Bo
y muttered. “Nothing is ever easy with your people, is it, Hawk?”

  I chose to ignore the accusation in his tone and focused on Doc. “Will Sheriff be well enough to travel once the drugs wear off, with those antibiotics in him?”

  “He should be, yes.”

  “Good. All of you need sleep. We’ll leave at first light.”

  “Wait, Masters.” Setora sat up straighter and looked at everyone, me last. “I hate to ask this, but what if Master Leif says no? What if he won’t help Sheriff?”

  Everyone else’s eyes were on me, waiting.

  I gave a heavy sigh. “I’ll just have to find a way to convince him.”

  We spent about another half hour planning. Mapping out the best route to take to the Temple of Umbi in order to avoid trouble, the best stops to use for camp on the way, and locating the places where we’d need to stop to get supplies. We were running low on the supplies the Angels of Mayhem had given us, since we’d stayed out here a lot longer than intended. Even the solar-powered carriages were low on power; we’d have to stop somewhere close to fuel up. What’s more, every trip we’d been on lately had cost us so much, and with Julian and his men out there, and Sheriff being sick, we couldn’t afford the kinds of major delays we’d dealt with on the way to Delta.

  When we finally left the cave, Pretty Boy and Steel spared a hug for Setora, quietly telling her Sheriff would be all right, that we’d work it out. They patted me on the back, a wordless reassurance of the same, and then disappeared to their own cave.

  I had the two guardsmen at the fire switch shifts with those standing watch over the camp, then walked with Setora toward the cavern I’d chosen for myself, right beside the infirmary where Sheriff slept.

  With my hand on the small of her slender back, I took in her gorgeous profile. The high cliffs near us cast this part of the camp in shadows that danced across her face. Shadows that nonetheless didn’t hide the worry that radiated from her.