The Healing Wars: Book II: Blue Fire Page 20

  “What will happen to the others if the Undying wake up before they do?” They’d be helpless.

  She shrugged. “Whatever Vinnot’s ghouls decide.”

  Not good. He’d lock up Sorg and the other enchanters again. Force Tussen and Enzie and the others…

  Enzie!

  She was still hiding in the room with Jovan, Bahari, Halima, and Winvik. They had to have been listening to the fight. They must have heard Vyand, known that I was gone. No way Jovan wouldn’t do something after that. Enzie might even be able to heal Tussen and get the rest on their feet before the Undying ever woke up.

  Please, Saint Saea, let them save the others.

  Vyand cocked her head and watched me with questioning eyes. “You’re hopeful again,” she said. “What did you just figure out?”

  “You really think I’m stupid enough to tell you?”

  “Not at all.” She grinned and leaned back. “But you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity.”

  “Lucky for me, I’m not a cat.”

  The carriage kept turning corners, tacking across the growing mob. Eventually we rolled into a stable with more soldiers than horses. Too many guards for one stable. Maybe the riot was getting worse.

  Vyand climbed out first and ducked under the cover of a bright green awning, vanishing into the stable with a few quick strides. Her men dragged me out like a sack of coffee, standing in the courtyard with me hanging between them. After a minute Vyand came out of the stall area and waved us over.

  Horses nickered, lifting their heads and staring as I was carried by. The stable looked well kept, but it didn’t look fancy enough to house the Duke’s horses.

  We reached the rear and a young soldier opened a stall door. We went inside and Vyand drew a dark blue hood from a box on the wall.

  “Before you ask, this”—she dangled the hood—“is so you don’t see anything.”

  See what? A stable with too many soldiers?

  She pulled the hood over my head, but not before I saw the young solider pull on a wall sconce and heard the rear of the stall click open. Dank air blew out past me from the dark. Probably a secret way into—and out of—the palace. I could imagine the Duke sneaking off in the middle of the night, maybe even meeting Vinnot at the foundry to check up on his experiments and weapons.

  Vyand tightened the hood around my neck, as if seeing the light flicker below me could give me enough clues to help me trace my way back should I escape. That she thought I might cheered me up a little.

  Her men carried me into the passageway. It sounded like hard stone under their booted feet, then quiet splashing, as if walking through puddles. They walked for a long time, and though I tried to keep track of turns, it was impossible without having my feet on the ground. Eventually we stopped and metal jangled. A scratch and a snick, like a lock in a door, then we were moving again.

  Splashes on stone turned to thumps on stone, then padded steps that likely meant soft carpet, then stone again. We followed stairs up and down. Doors opened and closed, and still no one said a word. We had to be in the palace by now. It smelled clean, not at all like the dank plant smell from the passage. I wondered if they were walking me in circles to confuse me.

  A soft knock, then murmured voices.

  “Sir, I have the Shifter,” Vyand said, and my hood was yanked off.

  “About time,” a man muttered.

  I blinked in the light of a plain, round room with a few benches and a small writing table. A room you passed through or waited in, not a place you spent any time in. Unless you were a soldier. A half dozen men in chain armor stood along the walls, watching me and everything that moved.

  Vyand’s satisfied smirk vanished. “She was exceedingly difficult to capture.”

  “So you kept telling me,” said the man in front of me. Mid-fifties. Thinning black hair, combed straight back. Gray-blue eyes. Fine clothes. An ocean-blue pynvium circlet with a sapphire stone circled his head.

  The Duke.

  Anger burned me. This was the man who’d hurt us, who’d killed so many, stolen so much? His body was too thin to bear armor, his shoulders not broad enough for a sword. His cheeks were drawn, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. No wonder he’d had to steal everything he had. He couldn’t possibly win it in a fair fight.

  I lifted my chin. “You’re a murdering thief who’s ruined lives and destroyed cities, and you should hang yourself on your own gallows while people cheer.”

  Vyand shot me an amused look. She’d probably root for me when I tried to escape this time.

  The Duke glared, his eyes narrowing. “No doubts that it’s her?” he said to Vyand. I bristled. This was my enemy and he wouldn’t even acknowledge me.

  “None, sir. As you can see, she’s…unmistakable…once you get to know her.”

  “Fine. Leave her.” He indicated a wooden bench by the wall. “Your fee is on the table there.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  The soldiers took me from Vyand and propped me up on the bench. “How can you work for him?” I asked them. “He burned an entire city to the ground just so he could steal the throne.”

  They ignored me, but the Duke’s face reddened. Good.

  “Which of your brothers was supposed to rule? Did it matter, or did killing them both just make you feel safer?”

  “Get those ropes off her,” he said, words clipped. “I’m not wasting good men to cart her around and listen to her nonsense.”

  Vyand raised an eyebrow. “That’s not advis—”

  “Do it.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  One of her soldiers cut the ropes holding my feet and arms. He left the one around my wrists. Vyand stepped forward and pulled the cloths off my hands, then looked at me and winked.

  “Dismissed,” the Duke said.

  Vyand dipped her head and left the room. I could swear I heard her snicker as she closed the door.

  The Duke walked over to me, his eyes bright with excitement.

  “So—you’re the Shifter.”

  He clearly didn’t want an answer. “And you’re something a reed rat coughed up.”

  He slapped me. I grinned, my cheek stinging.

  “That didn’t even hurt.”

  “Bold, isn’t she?” said another well-dressed man standing by the window. Older than the Duke, but not by much. Gray hair, same eyes though. A family member? He studied me like I’d seen farmers judge livestock.

  “Too bold,” the Duke agreed. I stuck out my tongue and his hands clenched.

  “Hit me again, I dare you.” Stabbing would be better. More pain to shift. I bet I could reach him before the guards stopped me.

  The well-dressed man put a hand on the Duke’s shoulder. “She’s baiting you.”

  “I know that!”

  “A lot of hope to put on one small girl, even if she is bold.”

  “See that blood on her? Those cuts and tears on her clothes? Vyand’s men did that, but they’re the ones hurting now.”

  Vyand’s men? He must not know about the Undying’s attack on the Underground. Then he hadn’t known where I was! Maybe Aylin and the others could still escape and get to Jeatar’s farm.

  And Tali?

  Maybe I didn’t need to sneak into the Taker camps after all. Just like me, the Duke was a better prize. I might be able to end this war right here. I’d learned a lot about kidnapping folks, and if I could capture the Duke, I could give him to Jeatar and we could force the Taker camps to let everyone go—including Tali.

  “Trust me, there’s not a mark on her anymore.”

  Except my new scars. I’d gladly earn some more if it gave me enough pain to shift into the Duke.

  “The Undying can also heal themselves,” the man said.

  “They can’t do this.” The Duke pulled something out of his pocket. Pynvium.

  Whoomp.

  I glared at him as pain prickled my skin. A lot for such a small rod of pynvium, but it w
as ocean blue, probably pure.

  “That tickled,” I said, scowling. He lifted the rod again. I winced and threw my hands up, putting the rope in front of the flash. It probably wouldn’t do much, but it might weaken the ropes a little.

  Whoomp.

  “Still tickled,” I said.

  The Duke turned red again and put the rod away. “Have you ever seen anything like that, Erken?”

  “No, such immunity is quite remarkable.”

  “No one will dare threaten me anymore.”

  I scoffed. “Don’t count on it.”

  Erken didn’t look convinced, even if he did look impressed with me. “If it works.”

  “It’ll work.” The Duke folded his arms across his chest, his hands still clenched. “Tell Vinnot to get ready. I want a test as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, sir.” One of the aides nodded and vanished through another door.

  If what worked? The device that had hurt Enzie and the others? Couldn’t be—that was destroyed in the foundry fire. Wasn’t it?

  “Nothing you do will matter, you know,” I said. “Everyone hates you. Every day, fewer fear you. You can’t hide what you are for much longer.”

  The Duke smirked. Not the reaction I was poking for. “Now that I have you, I won’t have to hide at all.”

  A woman in a blue and silver uniform approached the Duke. “Sir? Vinnot’s ready.”

  “Excellent. Sergeant, bring the Shifter.”

  The soldier on my left yanked me toward a door on the other side of the room. Only then did I notice the faint vibrations under my feet and the hum in the air.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Not so bold now, is she?” the Duke said. “Careful with her—she’s not replaceable like the others.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” I struggled against the soldier, but it was like wrestling with a tree. He dragged me through the door and into the other room. “Tell me!”

  “You’re happier not knowing,” a man said. It took me a moment to place the face. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been lying on the floor outside the spire room at the Healers’ League.

  “Vinnot,” I said. I glared at the man who’d filled Tali so full of pain she couldn’t move, who’d experimented on Takers. Who’d created the Undying and sent them out to kill.

  “I see my reputation precedes me.” He grinned, then continued making notes on a pad. Behind him was…

  Something.

  Pynvium for sure, but a misshapen mix of it, from pure ocean blue to an almost useless blue-gray, and a strange silvery blue metal I’d never seen before. The whole thing was big, a disk maybe six feet in diameter and a foot thick, resting on some kind of stone pedestal waist high off the floor. A spire grew from the center like wax melted from a candle, made from both the silvery blue metal and pynvium in varying purity. Halfway up the spire was a hole about the size of my arm, perfectly round and smooth. Evenly spaced along the disk were curved channels, about arm size, with thinner bands that curved above them, almost like cuffs. Lots of them.

  It holds us, hurts us….

  I counted. Twelve channels. There’d been six Takers in the foundry. Saints, they were cuffs. I pictured six Takers with their arms in those channels, locked down to that disk. Holding them, hurting them.

  And the Duke called me an abomination? That thing shouldn’t exist. I didn’t even know what it was, but I knew that. It was wrong, same as the glyphed pynvium in Zertanik’s office.

  I sucked in a slow breath. My stomach quivered, same as it had there, even worse than when Onderaan showed me his healing device. I didn’t see the glyphs, but they had to be there under all that horribly fused metal.

  “How soon will it be operational?” the Duke asked Vinnot.

  “Depends on the Shifter, really. We found no others like her to test, so I suspect it’ll take a while to reach pliability with her. Strong talents always take longer.”

  I jerked my gaze away. Pliability sure as spit didn’t sound like something I wanted a part of.

  “What is that thing?” I asked.

  “A life’s work,” Vinnot said, sighing.

  Not a life worth having.

  “Insert them now,” said the Duke.

  Vinnot actually smiled and rubbed his hands together eagerly. “This should be interesting.”

  Soldiers brought out four Takers from a back room, young like Enzie and the others, the oldest not more than twelve or thirteen. Too young to fight. My throat tightened, fearing I’d see Tali, hoping I’d see her. Wishing she was as far from this place as possible, because I had a sudden feeling capturing the Duke wouldn’t be enough anymore.

  “Let me go!” the first Taker said, struggling. A dark-haired boy with darker circles under his eyes. He wore a long, sleeveless tunic and baggy pants.

  Maybe not too young to fight, just too young for the Undying. He fought now, kicking, biting, writhing around like a grabbed cat. It took two soldiers and one aide to shove his arms into the channels and snap the cuffs on his wrists.

  “Submit,” the aide said.

  The boy cried out and slumped, his eyes open and glassy. Then he started moaning softly. Rhythmically.

  I had the urge to start struggling too. And screaming. What was the pynvium glyphed to do? Did they know? Did they have any idea what was under all that smashed-together metal?

  “Impressive,” Erken said. “It really does subdue them.”

  “I told you it did,” the Duke said, more than a touch of pride in his tone. “It’s the most remarkable blend. Haven’t found a use for the kragstun on its own, but combined with the right pynvium mixture, it makes the mind extremely open to suggestions.”

  “It affects the mind?”

  “The entire nervous system. A few words and they’ll do whatever I say.”

  This was horrific. Hurting people was bad enough, but twisting their minds? Jeatar’s words echoed in my ears. They twist minds and bend wills and create the weapons the Duke wants. How long do you think Tali can last in there? Was that how he got the Undying to follow him? Would he use something like this on Tali to make her fight?

  They inserted the next Taker, and the next. The last one came out of the room, older than the others. Someone I knew, but not Tali.

  Lanelle.

  A satisfied thrill ran trough me, followed by guilt. Even after what she’d done to Tali and the others—helping Vinnot with his experiments, recording their symptoms, betraying us to the Luminary—no one deserved this.

  She slipped into the channels without a sound. They all moaned, one right after the other in a line, their fingers twitching against the disk, as though they were pushing pain into it. Like Jovan had said, the weird slab pushed pain into them.

  Saints, was it…? The room wobbled a little. Was it cycling pain through them? Was it to test them for abilities? Had Vinnot found a way to keep them alive and still keep them filled with pain? Did the glyphed pynvium draw those abilities out if you did have them?

  It made no sense. If so, then why insert me? I already had abilities.

  I shivered. The Duke knew I did. Worse, he knew what kinds.

  He didn’t want me for my shifting at all. If he had something here that shifted pain into people, he probably never cared about that. He wanted me for my immunity, just as he’d shown Erken when he’d flashed me.

  He wanted me to flash that thing.

  If he put me into those channels, forced me to submit like the others, I probably would, too. How much pain was in there? If it could shift pain into people, would it flash with real pain? Not just surface pain that knocked you out, like pynvium weapons did now, but pain that would kill?

  I thought about Geveg, Verlatta, all the other towns and cities along the river. About Sorille, which had already been destroyed by the Duke’s hand. About all the Takers who were hiding, praying a tracker wouldn’t find them. Remembered how hard Grannyma had fought, how many she’d healed so they could fight some more. Of all those
who had died trying to keep the Duke out of our home, away from our people.

  Like Mama and Papa. And Grandpapa.

  The weapon was full of pain, probably more than even the League’s Slab had been. Once I was cuffed to it, I’d likely flash it however and wherever the Duke told me to. I’d be a walking pynvium trigger. But if I flashed it now, before he locked me in there…

  Siekte was right. Killing the Duke was the only way to free us all.

  I lunged for the pynvium.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The soldier holding me lost his grip and staggered forward. The other man hesitated, reacting too late to grab my arm, but he did grab my long braid. It yanked painfully on my head, but tore free.

  “Stop her!” the Duke ordered, real fear in his voice. He knew what I’d done to the Luminary. What I’d do to him when I reached that weapon.

  The unexpected yank threw off my balance, but I ran as fast as I could. I made it halfway to the disk before the soldiers seized my arms and hauled me back, dangling me off the floor.

  The Duke stomped over to me and grabbed my jaw, forcing my face toward him. My jaw tingled under his fingertips.

  Saints! He was a Taker!

  The Duke squeezed tighter. “Stop it. I won’t have—”

  I pulled my legs up and kicked him in the chest. The soldiers’ grip on me slipped and I fell, landing on the floor right after the Duke did. I scrambled toward the disk but arms grabbed me again.

  “Be ready if she shifts,” he told the soldiers as Vinnot helped him to his feet. The moment he was stable, he slapped his hand away.

  Shifting a bruised butt was hardly going to get me out of this.

  “I spent a lot of money to find you, Shifter,” he said, glaring at me. “So be a good little girl and do what I say.”

  “I never do what anyone says.” I tried to sound tough, but inside I churned. A Taker. And he was doing these terrible things to other Takers. Not that that should surprise me—I’d seen what he’d done to his own people.

  His lip curled. Not quite a grin, but it clearly wanted to be. “Yes, you will.” He turned to Vinnot. “Insert her now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “People are tired of listening to you,” I yelled at the Duke as his soldiers dragged me toward the weapon. “We’re tired of suffering so you can steal everything we own.”