The Shifter Read online

  No, I was slumped over. Fainted? I’d never fainted before, not even from hunger. I sat up, my body sore, my skin clammy. It stung a little as the rain dripped on it.

  People looked at me as they walked by, some in pity, others in disgust. One woman started to move closer, concern on her wrinkled face, but three Baseeri soldiers came over the bridge and she scurried away, her head low. The soldiers didn’t even glance down.

  No one was going to help me stand up, let alone save Tali. Certainly not a Baseeri, and not even one of my own people. They were all too scared they’d get noticed, too scared to raise a fuss, no matter how small. People who got noticed got hurt. People who fussed, disappeared. That was just how things were.

  We’d heard the same stories from those who’d escaped Sorille before the Duke had burned it to the ground, and by the time the Duke was done with Verlatta, they’d understand it too.

  I took a few deep breaths and things steadied. I could do this on my own. I would find Tali and together we would save the fisherman. I struggled to my feet and started back toward the Sanctuary. I was nearly there when a hand landed on my shoulder.

  I screamed and turned around, braced for soldiers or worse.

  Aylin yelped and threw her hands in front of her face.

  “Saints, Nya! I thought I told you to stay hidden.”

  “Aylin, I’m such a horrible person.” I clung to her, sobbing on her already damp feathers.

  “No you’re not. What happened?” She leaned her head away and wrinkled her nose. “Were you puking?”

  I covered my mouth and nodded. “I did something terrible. I—” Couldn’t tell her without telling her I was a Taker. Not without getting her involved in this more than she already was. I still didn’t know who had Tali and couldn’t risk Aylin getting kidnapped as well. “I stole ten oppas from the charity box at the Sanctuary.”

  Her worried frown twitched at the corners. “You need it more than anyone I know. You’re not a bad person.”

  Yes I was. Monstrous. But money and information could help me find Tali, and I needed both. “Did you find out anything?”

  “A little, but I don’t think it’s much help.” She glanced around. “It’s too open here. Let’s go to Tannif’s, and you can buy us coffee with your stolen wealth while we talk.”

  Tannif’s was crowded, stools and benches along the walls crammed with people. Baseeri were seated at the larger tables with padded chairs. Aylin managed to grab us a small table in the back near the door to the kitchen. Every time a serving girl swished by, scents of coffee and fried perch wafted out.

  “Tell me everything,” I said, hands tight around a mug of coffee. My first hot meal in months was cooking in the back. The money felt tainted, but I couldn’t find Tali if I was half starved. Common sense saves more lives than swords, as Grannyma used to say. And liars and thieves are never happy. I shoved that thought away.

  “My friend said the Elders have been carrying a lot of people away from the main treatment rooms. Somewhere higher inside the League, but he couldn’t see exactly where the stairs led past the second floor.” She leaned in closer across the table. “Nya, he swears every person he saw carried upstairs was wearing green.”

  “Apprentice green?”

  She shrugged. “He wasn’t sure, but he thought so.”

  “Did you talk to any Elders about Tali?”

  She scoffed. “They wouldn’t talk to me, but I found a few fourth cords who said Tali quit because it was too hard. They said she went home.”

  Fear stole my hunger away. “That’s a lie.”

  “I know, but they believed it, so someone they trusted must have told them that.” Aylin looked around the coffeehouse. “Nya, I asked the son of one of the show house regulars about the people being carried upstairs. He’s a guard at the League, and he didn’t seem that worried, said the Luminary himself told him they were exhausted because the ferry heals were so draining. They were just being taken somewhere to rest.”

  The Luminary was lying? It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. He had a lot to hide. No pynvium, so many injured, apprentices being carried upstairs and not coming back down.

  Saint Saea be merciful! They couldn’t be…. No, it was too unthinkable…but…

  What if they were healing without the pynvium? If there’d been more injuries like the little girl’s, folks so close to death the pain leaped right out of them, the apprentices wouldn’t have been able to stop it. I doubt even the Luminary could have stopped it. Was that why he wanted more Takers? Because he couldn’t get any pynvium and needed more bodies?

  How could the League do that to them? The apprentices couldn’t know. No one would agree to that if they knew.

  The fisherman did.

  Not Tali. She wouldn’t sacrifice herself to help a Baseeri aristocrat.

  “Aylin, I think the Luminary is using apprentices as pynvium,” I whispered, hardly believing anyone could be so horrible. “When they can’t heal anymore, he’s taking them upstairs and out of sight.”

  Aylin’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?”

  I told her what I’d learned at Zertanik’s, and her eyes went even wider.

  “I have to get Tali out of there. I have no idea how much pain she’s taken or how long she’s carried it. A day at least. Probably since the ferry accident.”

  The serving girl came and thunked our perch and sweet potatoes on the table. I gave her one of my oppas and she handed back my change. Wasn’t much, but I could get another meal for it. She scowled at Aylin and walked away. Aylin picked up a few chunks of potato that had rolled off and set them back on her plate. It never seemed to bother her when folks treated her badly for working for a Baseeri.

  “I have to go,” I said, rising.

  Aylin gripped my arm and held me down. “No, you have to sit and eat. You can’t lay siege to the Healers’ League without food in your stomach. Eat. Now.”

  “But—”

  “No, be practical about this.”

  I ate fast, speaking between bites. “Can your friend get me inside?” I doubted I had time to wait for Jeatar to get back to me.

  “I don’t know—I can ask. Nya, you’ll need more than that to get to Tali, though.”

  “I’ll figure that out when I get inside.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll get caught and thrown out—if you’re lucky. If not, you’ll get arrested. Or worse.” She lowered her voice, even though the chatter in the room was loud. “Do you think they want people to know there’s no pynvium?”

  “No. There’d be panic.”

  Aylin nodded. “Bad as anything in the war. Maybe even more riots.”

  “I have to get inside somehow.”

  “If they’re doing this, they’ll never let you in. It’s amazing I got in. They started turning people away as I was leaving. Have you seen the crowds in League Circle?”

  “Then I’ll wear a disguise. I’ll steal some clothes. Something green. Can you make me look like an apprentice?”

  Aylin hesitated only a heartbeat, then squeezed my hand. “Come back to my room. I know exactly what to do.”

  I’d forgotten how nice a bath felt. By the time Aylin finished scrubbing me with the floral soap she splurged on, I looked almost respectable. Her room was next door to the washroom, and some of the steam crept in through tiny cracks in the walls.

  “I appreciate the help, but what about your job?” I asked, combing out my wet hair. “You can’t still be on lunch break.”

  “I told them I had a family emergency.”

  “What if they fire you?”

  “Then I’ll find a new job.”

  She made it sound so easy. But then, that was just her way. We’d met scrubbing out the bilge on a Baseeri skiff two years back. Taking work from a Baseeri bothered me a lot more than the smell had, but Aylin smiled her way through the job and even made it fun. The owner liked her so much, he recommended her for more work. I didn’t get the same offer, but then, I�
�d made it pretty clear how I’d felt about Baseeri.

  “Here, put this on.” She pulled a simple yet pretty white dress off a line strung up in one corner and tossed it at me. Six more dresses bounced on the line, and she had two clothes baskets on the floor underneath. “I don’t have any green vests, but it should get you inside.”

  “They’re not going to let me walk upstairs just because I’m clean,” I said as I pulled the dress over my head. My voice sounded muffled through the cloth.

  “You’re realizing that now?”

  I frowned at her, but she was right—I had no idea what I was doing. A plan simmered, though, and I just needed a few more ingredients to make it palatable.

  “I can get your hair right,” she said, opening a jewel box on a small table by her bed and pulling out a green beaded necklace. She snapped the string, spilling beads into her palm. “Hmm, not exactly League green, but close enough. No one’s going to be looking that closely at your hair anyway.”

  The beads sparkled like hope. “Tali has three uniforms. If I can get to her room, I can change into one and look like any other apprentice. I’ll get there just after classes have let out, so I should be able to blend in.”

  “And then you can go wherever you want! Great idea. Better hope they don’t ask you to heal.” She flinched as if sorry she’d mentioned it. I’d let slip once how jealous I’d been of Tali getting into the League when I couldn’t, and she probably figured this was harder for me because of that. She grabbed the hair iron heating on the stove. “Let’s straighten out those curls, shall we?”

  Steam hissed as Aylin tugged my hair into shape. I tried to remember the fastest route to Tali’s room. I’d go in through the north gate for sure—or maybe not—the skinny guard might recognize me and I needed to look like an apprentice. West gate then, with the public, and I’d blend in with folks wanting heals. I could do this. I could make it to Tali’s room. And after that? I needed a plan I didn’t have.

  Aylin held up a mirror. “You look perfect.”

  I looked like Tali. Tears blurred my vision. I caught myself before I wiped them on Aylin’s dress. I blinked them away instead. She tied a white scarf around my fake Healer’s ponytail, beads and all.

  “Thank you, Aylin.”

  She flashed a grin, then solemnly pulled the two bracelets off her wrists. “Take these.”

  “I don’t need jewelry—I’m good enough.”

  She grabbed my hands tight. “They have pynvium beads in them. I painted them to look like regular beads, but they’ll trigger if anyone grabs your wrists hard. They won’t flash a lot of pain—I couldn’t afford the ones to knock someone out—but these’ll sting hard enough to make them let go so you can run away.”

  “Aylin, I—”

  “Take them.” She slipped one on each wrist. “Healing is big money. People kill to keep big money. If you’re right about what they’re doing to the apprentices, think about what they’ll do to hush you up.”

  I was trying my best not to think about that. I hugged her, focusing on the badly framed landscapes all over her walls to keep from crying. “Thank you, Aylin. Thank you so much.”

  She clung to me, trembling. “You be careful. You’re the only real friend I have. You know that, right?”

  I didn’t, though I probably should have. “I’ll be careful.”

  She wiped her eyes, smearing dark streaks across her cheeks. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “What? No, you’re not going.”

  “Who’s going to introduce you to my guard friend?”

  “No, I changed my mind. You’re right about the danger, and I won’t risk getting anyone else in trouble if I’m caught. I have to go alone.”

  She bit her lip but nodded. “Good luck. Saint Moed be with you.”

  “Thanks.” I needed all the courage I could get. “I’ll be back soon with Tali.”

  She smiled, but it was forced. Like she never expected to see me again and didn’t want to think about it.

  I turned before I started crying again, and headed for the League.

  Seven Sisters, hear my prayers, ’cause I’ll need every last one of you to get my sister back.

  EIGHT

  The League had never looked so mean.

  Like an arched cat, hissing and spitting. A bold crab, claws at the ready. A mama croc, guarding a nest full of eggs. And I was the one about to poke it with a stick.

  I tugged my damp scarf down over my hair and drifted into the people flowing toward League Circle in the softly falling rain.

  The main door loomed ahead. Had it always been so high? So wide? It swallowed me with a half dozen others, and we milled in the antechamber. The usual shafts of late-afternoon sunshine from the dome’s windows were nothing more than pale gray light today, veiled by the rain. Bleak light. Bleak mood. Bleak chances.

  But not as bleak as Tali’s if I couldn’t get her out.

  I held my breath past the soldiers, but none looked at me. I waded through the battered and bruised people hoping for heals, not one of them aware that if the League let them in, it would cause some poor apprentice more pain than she could handle. If screaming the truth would’ve saved anyone, I might have hollered to the cliffs, but I’d had enough reminders lately of what desperate people were willing to do.

  Slinking right, I headed down the hall toward Tali’s room. A dark-haired League guard leaned against the doorframe, looking bored. His interest kindled as I approached.

  “Excuse me,” he said, “but this area is restricted.”

  In the eternal pause between heartbeats, I mustered my best smile and most of the confidence I’d faked at Aylin’s. “I know, and thank you for keeping my room safe.” I almost winked, but it might have come off looking like a nervous tic.

  “You live here?”

  “Since last Moedsday.” I took a step to pass, but he moved and blocked my way. Did all guards have broad shoulders? Must be all that rapier thrusting. “Can I go now? I’m already late for rounds.”

  “I don’t recognize you.”

  “I’m new.” I tossed my head so the beaded braids slid over my shoulder.

  He hesitated, his jaw working as if chewing it over. “Where’s your uniform?”

  “In my room.” Oh, for the love of Saint Saea, all that work and I was going to fail here? Tali deserved better than a sister with a half-simmered plan.

  “So you went out earlier?”

  “Exactly.”

  He smirked like he had me. “Then why didn’t I see you leave? I came on this morning—early, and I’ve been here all day.”

  My mind flailed faster than a spooked chicken’s feet. “I wanted to watch the sun rise” wouldn’t work. Why would a girl be out before light? At least an apprentice girl—an ordinary girl would—

  “Listen.” I stepped in close and glanced around as if looking for Elders. Which I was, but not for the reason I wanted him to think. “I didn’t come home last night,” I lied. “This boy I know lost his mother in the ferry accident and needed comforting.” All dressed up, I looked old enough to go sneaking off to meet a boy. I hoped.

  He stared back for three agonizing heartbeats; then a sly smile cracked his face. He looked me up and down and nodded. “Be careful with that. The mentors’ll boot you if they catch you.”

  “They won’t catch me.” Saints willing.

  “Hurry up then.” He stepped aside, and I forced myself not to run all the way to Tali’s room.

  I ducked inside and collapsed on her bed. The shakes started, and it took me a good five minutes to get my courage back. Should’ve taken less time with so many reminders of Tali all around me, but being in a room she might never see again scared me more than any guard I’d ever crossed.

  Nerves finally steadied if not calmed, I stripped out of Aylin’s dress and into Tali’s white uniform. It was too short, and tight around the waist and hips, but the green vest hid it well enough. I folded Aylin’s things and hid them in a drawer in case anyone looked into the r
oom.

  I left, trying hard not to sneak, and strolled toward the treatment ward. After a few odd stares from various first and second cords, I picked up the pace. An apprentice late for rounds wouldn’t be strolling.

  The general treatment ward looked just as I remembered as a child, when I’d helped Mama on her rounds. I hadn’t done much—held some towels or small bowls of warm water for cleaning up blood—but I’d felt important. It was the life I’d hoped to have, back before I discovered my dreams were hopeless. The room looked smaller now, maybe ’cause I was bigger. Beds were arranged in neat rows with gauzy curtains hung between them for privacy. Most of the folks who came here were mildly injured or sick, or couldn’t pay as much as a full healing required. The rich and the really hurt ones were taken to private rooms.

  I turned and headed that way, sweat dampening the hairs along my neck. I hadn’t been in one of those rooms since Papa died, killed by one of the Duke’s soldiers a few months before the war ended. Mama had tried to save him, but by the time the other soldiers in his unit had gotten him to the League, he was gone. No one ever told us where Mama died; they just returned her in a box, like some unwanted gift. Baseeri men were running the League by then, helping to squash the last of our rebellion.

  Closed doors lined a hall almost as intimidating as the Sanctuary. At the end, wide stairs spiraled up and into shadows. I grabbed the copper handrail and took a step closer to where I hoped Tali would be.

  “You there!”

  I froze, fingers tight against the cold metal, then took another step. Maybe he wasn’t talking to me.

  “Apprentice! Get down here—you’re needed in the ward.”

  I turned, mouth open, but couldn’t think of a single believable reason to refuse. A short, bald man with six gold cords on one shoulder and two silver ones on the other stared at me. A Heal Master.

  “Now, girl.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We have injured waiting.”

  Saints save me! I walked over, and he took me by the back of the neck. Not hard, but like someone used to herding disobedient apprentices around. He guided me back into the general treatment ward and stopped between rows of beds. Four beds had people on them, some sitting, some lying down, all injured.