Shadows and Light (15 page)

The small meat market set up in the plaza in front of Daeva’s headquarters was crawling with people. Some of them were trying to escape the city but more of them Rafael recognized as members of Daeva’s band, and their expressions were eager and excited. Deciding the best way in was the simplest, Rafael descended from the rooftops close to the door. Jill, Daeva’s secretary, was milling there, trying to organize things and generally being ignored, but she recognized Rafael the moment she saw him.

“Did you do this?” she called out as he came closer.

“What, exactly?”

“This, this!” Jill gestured frantically at the hundreds of people, wincing at the sudden loud crack of tumbling stone and the screams that accompanied it. “We weren’t ready! You should have waited before starting the rebellion!”

If he’d been in a slightly different mood, Rafael would have laughed at that statement. As it was, he couldn’t muster enough sarcasm to bother. “I need to see Daeva.”

“Well, he needs to see you!” she snapped, her plain features haggard with worry. “He’s upstairs but—”

That was all Rafael needed to hear. He pushed past Jill, ignoring her shriek of outrage, and made his way up the stairs. Strange, how suddenly quiet it was here. Apparently Daeva’s reputation was enough that even the mob outside didn’t quite feel right barging into his space. He made his way down the narrow hall and to the single door at the end of it. It was shut but not locked, and Rafael didn’t bother to knock as he entered.

Daeva was there, sitting at his desk, as calm as ever. Mina sat across from him, her arms tied down to her chair. Her eyes were open and she was staring silently at her kidnapper, swaying slightly. Daeva looked up as Rafael entered.

“The prodigal one returns.”

“Mina,” Rafael called, ignoring Daeva for the moment. The girl didn’t respond to him. “Mina!”

“She can’t hear you,” Daeva replied calmly, shuffling the papers in front of him before lifting one up and showing it to her. It showed a picture of a water lily drawn in charcoal, its roots dripping down the page. Mina let out a low hum as she saw it and her brow creased a little. She continued to stare straight forward.

“I knew you would come back,” Daeva continued, seemingly ignoring the girl. “When I learned your fate, at first I thought he must have killed you, but my sources told me otherwise. The more I learned, the more intrigued I became. I realized that you were changing the game, Rafael, not just moving the pieces around. I want to play chess and you want to play marbles, but I won’t allow your transient loyalties to ruin my plan this late in the game.”

“What have you done to her?” Rafael asked, moving slowly to Mina’s side.

“I’ve captivated her,” Daeva said. “She’s thinking wet, clinging thoughts right now. I could make her picture butterflies and open fields, but I think I’d rather she see this.” He held up another piece of paper. This one was a drawing all in red ink, sharp slashes that didn’t seem to delineate anything to Rafael, but Mina moaned and a moment later began to cry.

“Stop it!” Rafael knelt down beside her and reached out to turn her head, to cut her free, to do anything, but Daeva’s voice stopped him cold.

“Touch her and you’ll destroy her mind.”

“What magic is this?” Rafael muttered desperately.

“Not magic. Hypnosis,” Daeva corrected. “Very specialized hypnosis, aided by a few choice hallucinogens. I’m the only one who can release her safely from her trance, and only while not under duress, I might add. Any interruption in her focus will produce very messy results.”

Rafael stared at Mina, helplessly watching the tears roll down her cheeks. “You said you would leave them alone.”

“That was before I thought you really might betray the cause.”

“It was never my cause!” Rafael shouted. “All I wanted was to kill High Ones, not sign on to your self-serving revolution!”

“Then you’re a fool for letting me use you.” Daeva smiled unpleasantly. “And you were planning on killing me, weren’t you? I would have gone after you, had our positions been reversed. As it is, I have you now, and I’ll keep you, won’t I? Otherwise I’ll have to do some cruel things to this poor young girl’s mind.” He held up another piece of paper, this one all black except for one bright red spot in the center of it, and when Mina saw it she began to scream, her eyes widening with horror.

“Change it!”

“Not yet, I think,” Daeva replied. Mina began to pull at her bonds, writhing frantically. Her wrists were being rubbed bloody on the rope he had used to tie her down.

“Fucking change it!” Rafael yelled, less of a demand than a plea as he reached for her hands to hold them down, keep her from damaging herself further.

“No touching,” Daeva reminded him. “And I will change the image, once I have your assurance that when the High Ones come here, which I’ve no doubt they will, you will fight for me. I particularly want you to make sure Myrtea is taken care of. I have no desire to see her again while her head is still attached to her body. Kill her, and I’ll release the girl.”

“Agreed.” Rafael had been planning on it anyway. He simply had a more pressing reason to do it now.

“Good.” Daeva raised another sheet, this one cream colored with splotches of yellow and green. Mina quieted, relaxing back into the chair, but her complexion was turning sickly.

“What have you done now?” Rafael asked.

“Many subjects interpret this image as illness,” Daeva said. “It will keep her docile, none of that distressing screaming and crying, and it will keep you from getting any ideas as well. If she retains this image for too long, her body will start to fail.”

Rafael stared at Daeva, sitting so smug and calm in his chair. Daeva thought he knew what to expect when the High Ones came, he thought he had the advantage of numbers…but Rafael knew, with utter certainty, that no matter what happened tonight, Daeva would die. Rafael also knew right then that he wouldn’t be the one to kill him, and it helped him to relax some.

“Comforting thought?” Daeva inquired in polite tones as Rafael sat down on the low table just behind Mina.

“Quite.” He didn’t bother to explain and Daeva didn’t waste more breath asking.

“Would you care to tell me how you escaped from the Upper City?”

“You’ve seen the fire, haven’t you?” Rafael asked sarcastically.

“Yes, quite the explosion. And at full noon, too. You know, you probably killed more High Ones in that single moment than in all your years of hunting them for me.” Daeva sounded pleased.

“I know.”

“Is that how your master perished?”

Rafael shook his head. “I have no idea where Xian is now,” he said truthfully. “The sun or the fire could have taken him.” Hadn’t, hadn’t, hadn’t, his mind repeated anxiously. “He and Myrtea seem rather intent on destroying each other, from what little I saw.”

“Ah yes, the flip side of love and hate,” Daeva sighed. “How well we both know it. Given the strength of our own passions, how much worse must it be for them, who have had centuries to feel for one another? The sensations must be…” Daeva closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “…absolutely excruciating.”

Rafael said nothing, just kept his eyes on Mina, watching sweat break out on her brow and neck, and her chest hitch alarmingly. After a moment of silence, Daeva went back to his paperwork.

Jill periodically came to relay news to her leader, her anxiousness having absolutely no effect on Daeva. Nearly one-quarter of the upper city had fallen apart, and two-thirds of the dividing wall was also gone. No bodies of High Ones had been retrieved yet, but several had been seen bursting into flames. Daeva tutted regretfully at the waste but otherwise remained silent. Rafael listened and watched Mina, and silently prayed that Xian would arrive before he was driven to kill Myrtea, and in doing so leave Mina alone. If Daeva didn’t kill her, a High One would.

The shadows came, darkening the room, slowly darkening the city. Every minute was another chance for Xian to arrive, but every minute turned into another false hope. When the sun set entirely, Rafael felt his heart drop out of his chest with it. Xian wasn’t here. It had been more than enough time for him to have recovered, and he could move in the dangerous dusk, but he wasn’t here. Either he was dead, or captured or… It didn’t matter. Rafael refocused his thoughts with a wrenching effort. Mina. He had to think of Mina. Rafael had an hour to get her free or Feysal would come here and he would die.

Pounding footsteps thudded up the stairs and raced down the hall. “Daeva!” Jill shrieked, throwing the door open. “They’re coming! The High Ones are coming, and some of them are… They’re glowing!”

“Glowing?” Daeva frowned. “In what sense?”

“In the sense that they’re lighting up the sky like fucking fireflies, that’s what!”

Daeva turned toward Rafael suspiciously. “What sort of magic is that?”

“I’ve no idea,” Rafael replied. “Magic has never been my interest. I assume it’s something bad for you.”

“Get the archers ready,” Daeva said to Jill. “Fire arrows. That element seems to be particularly troublesome for High Ones this day. And if some of them are glowing, it simply makes them better targets in the night.” Jill fled and Daeva changed his focus.

“You”—he pointed at Rafael—”go down and find Myrtea.”

“I think I’ll wait for her here,” Rafael said with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

Daeva’s eyes narrowed. “Do I need to remind you that I can kill this child at any time?”

“If I leave, you might indeed kill her at any time. Then my motivation to help you would be gone. If you want me to fight for you, I have to be assured of her continued existence. For that I need to be here until Myrtea is spotted.”

Daeva looked uncomfortable for the first time, even worried. “If she gets into this room, it will be too late for all of us.”

The sounds of battle began now, shouts of expectation turning to fear and pain. The clash of weapons rang into the night, rising above the dissonant cries, and the glow of fire began to spread.

“Go and find her.”

“No.”

“Go and find her or I put the girl in such agony that she will scream her mind to pieces before she dies!” Daeva threatened, his eyes wild now.

“No.” It wasn’t Rafael who spoke now. Both men turned toward the door and the dark-robed nightmare that stood there. It was Xian, and Rafael wanted to go to him immediately, but there was nothing he could do now except hope that his master could get them out of the twisted coil Daeva had bound them in.

“I thought you had to be dead,” Daeva muttered. “Your lovers would not dare leave you alive to torment them.”

“You are a clever man, very well informed,” Xian said softly, stepping farther into the room and shutting the door then bolting it. “You think like a High One with centuries of practice at looking ahead. Yet you’re not quite perfect, Daeva. You’re hindered by your own emotional limitations.” He moved to the long, thin glass window that looked out over the courtyard and unlatched the frame, then swung it open. The screams of strife rose more clearly to their ears. “If you can’t picture doing something yourself, you have a hard time imagining anyone else doing it. You know obsession but not willing sacrifice.”

“Is that what this is?” Daeva asked, his voice harsh and anxious. “Your apprentice sacrificing this girl, sacrificing himself, so you could kill me?”

“Not even close.” Xian moved away from the window. “This is about teaching you a lesson. Expanding your horizons, so to speak. Giving you a chance to become that which you never imagined you could be. A willing sacrifice.”

“You cannot force me to go down there,” Daeva blustered. “Not with the girl like this! Soon she will die if I don’t free her.”

“I have no intention of forcing you to do anything,” Xian said. “I have no need.”

A note rang out in the courtyard, a clear, pure tone that somehow lifted above the killing and penetrated the small room. Daeva froze.

“Your mistress is calling you,” Xian told him, his voice low. “You should go to her.”

No
… Daeva’s lips shaped the word but his mouth wouldn’t speak it. The tone sounded again and his eyes turned unwillingly toward the door.

“Not that way,” Xian murmured. “The door is locked, it will take too long. She wants you now.”

The fear was still there in Daeva’s eyes, but now not even his lips seemed able to move. He took one slow, shambling step toward the window.

“Yes,” Xian praised him. “Exactly. That’s the way. You have to go now, Daeva. Myrtea is calling you.” The tone came a third time, and whatever had been activated inside Daeva at the sound was now wholly in control of his body, if not his mind. He moved out from behind his desk, went around Mina and Rafael and stood in front of the window. The opening was shorter than he, and slender, but Daeva’s ascetic frame could squeeze through, and after another moment he did so, stepping into the aperture and standing there for a moment, wavering. Then he jumped, falling forward into space and down two stories to the crowded plaza below. He didn’t scream. He didn’t make a sound.

Chapter Twelve

“Xian—no, we need him to—” Rafael finally found his voice, too late to do any good.

“No, we don’t,” Xian assured him, stepping over to Mina and kneeling beside her. Her skin had gone gray, her eyes had rolled back into her skull and she was trembling unstoppably. “If we were to try and bring her out with hypnosis, yes, but we aren’t. There is a simple spell that can break this, with enough power behind it.” Taking up his athame, he sliced a thin line over the back of his hand. “Give me the quill from his desk.”

Rafael handed the plume over and watched raptly as his master dipped the pointed nib into his blood, then raised it to Mina’s face. He drew dark lines beneath her eyes and across her temples, a thin one down the length of her nose and over her lips, and after another dip he drew a circle on her forehead, thick and heavy. “Get out the blood.”

Erran’s blood. Rafael hated to touch it, but he withdrew the vial from where it was secured. Xian handed him the quill. “Put one drop on the end of this, then put it away. Carefully, pet.”