by Rachel White
It was a child's fancy, no doubt told to him by Faida Tlirr or another, older revolutionary, and it was made precisely for Naravi. He always thought in black and white. When Hesse died, Naravi had spent two months claiming that he hadn't been trying to kill anyone, just damage the garrison a little. Even now, he probably half-believed it.
"If you say so." Rallis pushed him gently in the direction of the motherhouse. "Go home. This isn't up for debate. I don't want you attending this meeting. Tomorrow, we can discuss things more thoroughly, but for now you need to return to the motherhouse."
"Rallis—"
"This isn't up for debate."
"Do you want them to win?" Naravi demanded. "Is that what this is?" His lip rose. "I should have known. You spend all that time with that Jevve officer. I expect you do want Jev to rule Adesa. You know they won't accept you either, don't you? You're still half-Adesi, even if you're a faithless traitor."
Though the words stung, Rallis held in his reaction through force of will and practice. "I told you to go home."
"They're going to destroy us! They're going to kill everyone. Hesse—"
"Why do you think Hesse never asked you to fight with him?" Rallis cut in. "I can tell you why. He didn't want you to. Nur's heart, he was fighting because he wanted you to be safe, Naravi. He wanted to ensure that you were safe. That's why he didn't ask you to fight with him last year."
The blow struck home. He heard Naravi's ragged intake of breath. "You don't know anything."
"Is this how you repay him? Do you think he would want you here, now, with Jevite legionnaires ready to descend at any moment? Do you think he would want you shot at this damned meeting? Do you think he'd want you arrested? Executed? He died to keep you safe—are you going to throw away his death because of Faida Tlirr whispering in your ears? Is that how you would honor him?"
Naravi was trembling. "He was trying to protect Adesa," he whispered.
"No. He was trying to protect you." Or trying to be a hero or trying to sow chaos—Hesse's motivations had been as powerful and volatile as the tide. Often Hesse himself hadn't seemed to know what he was thinking.
"But—"
"If you want to honor him, use your mind. You're not stupid, Naravi. It's dangerous here. Go home."
It was cruel to bring up Hesse. He could see Naravi's resolve crumbling as he spiraled into memories of his brother. It would take days to pull him back out. But it had worked too: when Rallis indicated the empty street behind them, Naravi obediently began to turn.
"I said go home. Do you understand? Go. Home."
"Faida's in there," said Naravi. "I promised him I would do this with him. I won't—I won't leave without him. If Jevites are going to attack…"
Rallis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll get him. Go home, Naravi. It's not safe."
He waited for more protests, but Naravi turned and started down the street, heading east. Hopefully he was actually returning to the motherhouse, but Rallis didn't care where he went so long as it was away from the meeting. When the street was clear and empty, he slipped from the alcove himself.
The immediate temptation was to return home as well, but he had promised Naravi he would get Faida out first, and if he broke that promise, the last of Naravi's trust would vanish like the mist. There was no help for it: Rallis went to the door and knocked, not at all sure what he was getting himself into.
To his surprise, a small window on the door slid open. A pair of eyes peered suspiciously out at him. "What do you want?" a woman's voice asked.
"I'm here for the meeting," Rallis said in a low voice, stepping back to keep his face mostly in shadow. "I was sent by another member." He intended to avoid naming himself or Naravi if he could help it. The likelihood that Naravi had already been recognized was very high, but in case he hadn't been, Rallis wouldn't draw attention to him.
The eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"He told me not to say."
"What does he want?"
"I'm supposed to pass a message on to Faida Tlirr. I'll speak to him on the street if you don't want to let me in."
The eyes raked over his face. If they recognized him, they would probably permit him entry on the basis of being Naravi's cousin—unless they were afraid his loyalties lay with Jev. But someone was also bound to tell the legionnaires he had been there.
"How do I know you're not with Jev?" the woman asked.
"You don't," Rallis told her, "but if I am with Jev, locking this door won't help. I know there's a rebellion meeting inside. I could call the legion down on your heads and a little iron and wood wouldn't keep the legionnaires out. But I'm not with Jev. I just want to speak to Faida Tlirr."
The eyes looked more suspicious than ever, but the woman said, "Fine. Wait," and closed the little window. After a few moments, the door swung open.
"This way."
He followed her into a darkened house that smelled of water decay and old smoke. The rafters above them hung with cobwebs and a thick layer of dust covered every flat surface. The woman was holding a small lamp in one hand, a Jevite gun strapped to her hip. When she noticed him eyeing it, she barked a laugh.
"Took it off a Jevve officer," she said, patting it fondly, "after I used it to blow his brains out."
At her expectant look, he made himself grin, but the very idea was repulsive. The anonymous Jevite officer transformed in his mind's eye into Lieutenant Taarq, gentle and kind, executed in cold blood because of a stupid antagonism that wasn't even really about him.
"This way."
She led him to the back of the house, a dirty little room that might once have been a sunroom, judging by the shattered glass walls surrounding them. There didn't appear to be anywhere else to go, but she knelt on the ground and carefully slid a run to the side, revealing a trap door. When she pulled it open, light and noise poured out from a hidden cellar.
"One moment."
She climbed down. Down below, fifteen or twenty people were gathered: all Adesi, mostly men, mostly, from what Rallis could see, branch family members of distant Houses, as he recognized none of them personally except for Hivaar Myn, who was standing on a makeshift platform and speaking to the assembled crowd. Though they had never met personally, Rallis knew of him. The eldest son of House Myn, he had disappointed his sisters by abandoning his House duties to involve himself in the rebellion, becoming something of a leader due to his natural charisma and eloquence. But Myn was impulsive and cruel, despising Adesi he deemed as not brave enough nearly as much as he despised the Jevites. His tactics encouraged violence with little regard for who got hurt. In some ways, he reminded Rallis of Hesse, and Hesse had been following one of Myn's plans when he was killed, but at least Hesse had usually possessed a kind heart. Myn—cruel every moment of every day—was a dangerous, volatile figurehead, and one of the reasons the rebellion was cracking so much.
Rallis was glad he hadn't gone down with her. Myn wouldn't like his half-Jevite face any more than Faida Tlirr did. The last thing Rallis needed was to make more enemies.
"Where's Faida?" the woman asked.
"He and Jaarell went upstairs," said an unfamiliar voice.
"I didn't see them in the house."
"They might be in the back."
"Figures."
Rallis moved back as she reappeared through the trap door. "You want to wait for them to come back or go find them?"
There was no time. "I'll go look for him."
"Fine. Let's go."
"You don't have to go with me," he told her, but she rolled her eyes.
"And let you go free? Not likely. Get someone else to guard the door!" she called down. "I'm going to keep an eye on this one."
Without waiting for an answer, she led him through the broken sunroom to the back garden. There, two figures were huddled, whispering intimately. They didn't notice Rallis and the woman approach or the light from the woman's lamp but jumped apart when she cleared her throat. One of them was Faida; the other was a young man of ni
neteen or twenty, probably a member of some distant House branch. Head Tlirr would be furious to know Faida was cavorting with such a lowborn partner in a dirty back garden.
"Faida." She nodded at Rallis. "He's looking for you."
"What do you want?" Faida demanded, staring at Rallis with a mixture of anger and confusion. "Where's Naravi?"
"You scared the life out of me," said the other young man to the woman, laughing, "Nur's heart, warn a fellow, why don't you?"
"Get out of here, Jaarell." The woman jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the house. "Go make yourself useful and guard the door."
Jaarell bowed, glanced curiously at Rallis, and disappeared inside.
"I asked you where Naravi was," said Faida regally to Rallis.
"He's not here. We need to leave. Head Tlirr is looking for you."
"Why? What does she want?"
"She heard about your adventures," Rallis told him, "and wants to have a talk with you about marriage. Let's go."
"Marriage?" Faida looked alarmed. "What do you mean, she heard about me? What did she hear?"
The woman snorted. "Idiot. Next time think a little more before you fuck in a garden, otherwise you'll—Fuck!"
She went down holding her side. Rallis's heart slammed into his throat as he dropped to the dirt, dragging Faida with him as he fell. The movement was instinctual. Though his rational mind didn't know what had happened, his body had immediately recognized the sound. It was the same sound he had heard so often six months ago, the last sound his aunt and Hesse had heard. The high, thin whine of a Jevite pulse. The sound of death.
From the house came the noise of footsteps and shouting in Jevite. Rallis could see dark shapes rushing past the broken sunroom windows. The legion was there. They must have arrived at the house while everyone was downstairs. The attack had come out of nowhere with no warning, and the rebels, caught by surprise, would be overwhelmed in moments. It would be Nur's own grace if any of them survived the night—and even if they did, all they had to look forward to was execution.
Beside him, Faida was panting with fear. "What's happening?" he hissed.
"Be silent," Rallis snapped. "They'll hear us."
"What do we do?"
"Be quiet and let me think."
He looked toward the house again, which glowed with the light of lamps and the eerie shimmer of the pulses. It was chaos inside: he heard furniture crashing, glass shattering, the occasional raw scream. The legionnaires were distracted for now, but any moment, they might burst into the garden and see Rallis and Faida.
Rallis slid backward on his stomach, seeking the deep shadows near the edge of the garden. Near the center, the rebel woman was still lying; she had rolled herself onto her back and was staring up at the sky, mouthing voiceless words. Light from her fallen lamp illuminated the spreading dark stain on her shirt. One hand rested on her gun, as though she had reached for it but didn't have the strength to draw it from its holster.
"What do we do?" said Faida again, fear making his voice shrill.
"This way."
On hands and knees, Rallis crept toward the far corner of the garden. Though there was no gate in sight, the wall was low and rocky, with a flat top. Easy enough to scale. He reached it and pulled himself up, balancing to reach down to Faida.
More crashing from inside the house made Faida jump and turn around. He stared at the house as though captivated. "Faida!" Rallis snapped, but he didn't move. "Faida, take my hand."
The door to the garden burst open. Across the garden, the silhouettes of legionnaires poured into the open air. "There are two over there!" one legionnaire cried, spotting Rallis and Faida. Four legionnaires charged toward them.
"Faida, grab my hand or I'm leaving you!" Rallis snarled, and finally Faida broke free of his spell. He seized Rallis's hand in his own sweat-damp ones and let Rallis pull him up to the top of the wall.
"This way." Rallis didn't wait for him to agree, shoving him over the side and dropping down after him. The fall jarred his knees and rattled his teeth but there was no time to waste. Even as he landed, he could hear the legionnaires climbing the other side.
He seized Faida's jacket and pulled him toward the street. "Run. Run!"
"I am!" Faida gasped, stumbling along after him.
On the street, Rallis ran east, heading for familiar territory—not the motherhouse, he didn't dare go near the motherhouse until he was sure he was free of the legionnaires, but neighborhoods that he knew—
And found himself slamming bodily into someone else. He fell to the dirt, as did the stranger. Faida, just behind him, tripped and tumbled down after him with a thin cry.
There was no time to worry about the pain. Rallis scrabbled to his feet, yanking Faida upright as well, ready to—what? Fight off the legionnaire he had run into? Plead for mercy? He didn't know.
But it didn't matter, for he hadn't hit a legionnaire. The shocked, hopeless face of Ivven Gyl stared up at him from his spot on the ground.
Fear turned Rallis's guts to ice. Even if he escaped that night, it was an absolute certainty that Ivven would turn him into the legion if he were caught, and it was just as certain that he would be caught. He was slow and loudmouthed, and obviously drunk, even now. A Jevite legionnaire could catch him sleepwalking.
"Rallis?" said Ivven slowly.
He took a step back, but no shadows could hide his face. "Ivven—"
"Run!" Faida cried, tugging at his sleeve. "Don't we need to run?"
"Rallis, what are you doing here?"
"I'm not waiting here!" This was Faida, looking frantically from Rallis to Ivven to the rebellion house. "I won't let them catch me!"
He took off, disappearing down the road. "Rallis," said Ivven, "are you—What are you—"
"Run," Rallis snapped at him, stumbling backwards. "The legion will be out here. They're already here. Don't sit there, run!"
"Rallis, wait!"
But he couldn't wait. Legionnaires were already emerging from the front door, dragging captive Adesi rebels with them, and more legionnaires had appeared from the side street where Rallis and Faida had made their escape. With a sudden burst of new strength, he started down the road, ignoring Ivven's call at his back, the cry interrupted by a heavy thud and a pained moan. He wouldn't look. He couldn't.
Footsteps on the road behind him warned him that legionnaires were pursuing him, and once or twice a Jevite pulse hummed by his ear, but Rallis ran with a speed borne of desperation and managed to lose them in the narrow, winding roads near Merchants' Square. Alone, once he was sure he was safe, he leaned against a wall, gasping for breath.
What now? What next? There was nowhere to go. Ivven Gyl had seen him, so Jev would send legionnaires after him. Returning to the motherhouse would only draw their attention to Naravi and Miana. Rallis would die before he allowed that to happen.
No, he would find somewhere else to go. As for what next…he didn't dare think about it. For the moment, all he could do was find a place to wait out the night.
Chapter Nine
He ended up at the temple to Nur near the motherhouse because it was open and brightly lit and he didn't think Jevite legionnaires would storm it as they had the rebellion headquarters. A priestess found him a seat near the shrine to Nur in the center of the temple and brought him tea and honey. When he asked, she agreed to send a message to Lieutenant Taarq, though Rallis didn't know whether it would reach him before the legionnaires arrived. Then she left him alone, and there he stayed, staring up at the statue of Nur illuminated by the flickering candles. Her formless shape seemed distant and cold. If there was any kindness or mercy to be found in Her heart, Rallis couldn't see it.
Not that it mattered, he supposed. His enemy was Jev, and Jev didn't worship Nur. Was Naravi all right? Had he made it home to the motherhouse? There was a strong chance one of the rebels would turn Naravi in, but at least he hadn't been at the meeting that night. Perhaps that would make a difference.
Rallis might
never know. Once the legion arrived for him, he expected things would progress rapidly. After they put him in the Red Square, there would be some kind of a trial and then probably execution. Perhaps they would torture him first. He had heard Jevites did that, tormenting their captives to make them talk or to make a point or just for fun, and though he didn't know exactly what methods they used, the possibilities were endless. He spent a good portion of the night imagining what might happen, only interrupted by the priestess occasionally checking on him. There was no fear any more, only a dull numbness, an ache in his chest, a pit of emptiness hollowing his stomach and devouring his heart. In the morning, as the dawn sun rose red and cold over the horizon, he went out to the temple's garden pavilion to breathe in the last fresh air he would probably ever feel.
He was only out there perhaps a quarter hour when the noise of the door banging against the far wall interrupted his sanctuary. He swung around, jaw aching and heart battering against his ribs, expecting the legion—
But it was Lieutenant Taarq in the doorway, looking half-mad with fury. When their eyes met, he crossed the pavilion in five strides and seized Rallis. "How much did you see?" he demanded, gripping Rallis's shoulders with bruising force.
Rallis shook himself free. "Some. Enough."
"Enough."
"Enough."
The answer—and Rallis's demeanor—clearly didn't please. Lieutenant Taarq seemed to be just keeping himself from striking Rallis across the face. "Why did you go there?" he asked. His eyes were wild and his mouth was a thin line. "Why did you—what were you thinking? I don't understand what you were thinking."
"What does it matter? It's all the same, now."
"Rallis, please."
"I needed to find my cousin. I wasn't attending the meeting. I'm not a rebel. It was just bad luck I was there when they arrived."
Misery rolled off Lieutenant Taarq, so thick it was like a physical cloud. "They won't believe that." He sounded as though he only half-believed it.
"I know."
