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Exsanguinated Page 4
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“Why?”
“Where have you been?” Marin looked at her, seeming to notice her wet clothing.
Sam turned around to see if she’d left a trail as she came in, apparently not having dried all the way. She was soaked to the skin and wanted nothing more than to strip off her swampy, smelly clothes and get into something clean and dry.
“With Alec. He wants to try to make more easar paper.”
“That’s good. I think we’re going to need quite a bit more.” Marin glided down the halls of the palace, having quickly adjusted to her return. It had been a decade or more since Marin had walked these halls, a decade during which she had spent time hiding in the outer sections, staying away from anyone who might recognize her, yet staying within the city.
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe some good news. Maybe not.”
“About what?”
“Helen.”
“You found her?” They had been looking ever since she had disappeared but had found no sign of her.
“We haven’t found her, but you need to see this.”
Marin guided her down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and Sam realized where they were heading. There was only one place in this part of the palace where she could be going. “Has she escaped?”
Marin glanced over. “No, but…”
They reached the cells, and Marin glanced at the two men standing guard. They stepped off to the side, and Marin pulled the door open, stepping into the room. Sam followed.
She scanned the cells and was reassured when she saw that the princess remained confined. Her fear was that Lyasanna would manage to escape. If she did, it would create difficulty for many. Though Sam wasn’t as well versed as Bastan about the politics of the city and how it would impact things, she believed him when he said the princess getting free could cause problems that would make life in the city difficult.
Lyasanna sat in her cell and looked over at them when they approached. A dark sneer parted her lips, the same as it always did, and she glanced from Sam to Marin.
“Have you come to taunt me again? I would think you’d prefer to make these visits earlier in the day, but maybe you enjoy doing things like this at night.”
Sam ignored Lyasanna and followed Marin to the end of the row of cells. Marin nodded to the wall, and her gaze was fixed on it, staring at the stone.
Sam frowned and turned her attention to the stone. “What is it?”
“Look,” Marin said.
Sam took a moment to realize what it was that Marin wanted her to see.
There were markings in the stone. They were symbols, though they didn’t mean much to her. Sam had seen symbols like this once before, back when she had been captured and held in prison.
“Is that—”
Marin nodded. “An augmentation.” She spoke softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It wasn’t there before. I searched to be sure before we left Lyasanna here.”
“What’s the point of the augmentation?”
“It’s designed to break her free.”
Kyza. If they had some way of getting Lyasanna out of here… “You can read it?”
“I can’t read it, but I have seen something like it before.”
Sam suppressed the urge to comment on Marin continuing to be evasive, even after everything they had gone through. Didn’t Sam deserve more information now? But holding on to her anger with Marin didn’t help her. She had to find a way to let that go. “How could it have been placed here? Lyasanna is in the cell, so it can’t be her.”
“I don’t think she put it here. And I don’t think they are placing it directly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Helen is the most skilled Scribe in the city. I think she is placing an augmentation from a distance. If she succeeds, she will be able to break in and free the princess. And if that happens…”
“Then we need to counter the augmentation.”
“We will, but I wanted you to be aware of it.”
“Is there any way for us to use it to our advantage?”
Marin frowned. “How would you propose we do that?”
Sam looked at the cells. “If they think they have placed an augmentation that we haven’t discovered, maybe we could create a wall here that would trap them inside, at least until we had a chance to capture them.”
“I don’t know that it will work. Once someone breaks in, a wall won’t be able to hold them.”
“It will if we place our own augmentations on it. We need to find Helen, Marin. If she’s going to continue to threaten us, we need to capture her and get her under control. Otherwise we will always be worried about what she might try next.”
Marin smiled tightly. “That’s actually a reasonable plan.”
“But?”
Marin glanced at her. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Marin, I grew up around you. I know when there’s something that’s bothering you. You’re not convinced that even if we do this, it will be enough.”
Marin turned toward the cells. Her brow furrowed, and one hand rested on her disassembled canal staff hooked to her belt. She was troubled and looked more bothered than Sam had seen her in quite some time.
“We’re outnumbered, Samara. That’s what bothers me. If they try something, they will likely succeed. Helen has more Kavers than we do. She has more skilled Scribes than we do. We are outnumbered, and I think we’re lucky that she’s turned her attention to securing the princess, because if she were to do anything different, if she were to change her focus of attack and go after the Thelns, there wouldn’t be anything you or I could do to prevent it.”
“Then we have to stop her before she succeeds.”
“I’m trying, Samara. And I know you’re trying. But Helen… There’s a reason I never returned to the palace. She is incredibly bright. And she has years of experience. And…”
“And what?”
Marin looked over at her. “And she is the only one who has ever been to the Theln lands as a Scribe and returned.”
4
Back Home
The tray of food in front of her smelled delicious, but Sam didn’t have much of an appetite. How could she when her mind was racing, leaving her feeling nauseated? Maybe the nausea wasn’t only about her mind racing. Perhaps it was just as much about the fact that Alec was off at the university working on making easar paper, and working with Jalen and Beckah and others, while she was trying to find Helen, having only Marin—and Bastan—to help.
The tavern was mostly empty, only a few people at tables, most in quiet conversation. A fire crackled in the hearth, but no minstrel sang tonight. The absence left a void in the tavern.
“You need to eat,” Kevin said, taking a seat across from her.
Sam looked up at him, and she smiled. Kevin was one of her oldest friends, though they had a strange sort of friendship. It was built on one common factor: they both served Bastan. Kevin was the one who always ensured that she had enough food to eat, and for that, she was eternally grateful.
“I’m trying,” she said. “It would help if the food wasn’t so terrible here. It’s almost as if whoever is cooking it barely knows what he’s doing.”
Kevin grabbed her tray and started to pull it across the table. “You don’t have to be mean about it,” he said. “If you’re not hungry, you don’t have to eat. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.”
“I’m going to eat,” Sam said, dragging the tray back toward her. “And you know you’re the best cook in the section.”
Kevin arched a brow. “Just in the section?”
Sam shrugged, forcing herself to take a bite of the stew. “I can’t speak of how your cooking compares in the other sections.” She smiled, and Kevin glared at her slightly. “But I’ll give it to you that you have better food than in most sections?”
“I’ll take it,” he said. Kevin looked around the tavern before his gaze settled back on Sam. “If you’re looki
ng for Bastan—”
“Is he gone again?”
“Ever since the attack, he has not been here quite as much. I think he feels he needs to be visible in other places. You know how Bastan can be.”
“Yes. I know how Bastan can be.”
As she picked at her food, the door to the tavern opened and Bastan entered. He was wearing a navy cloak, and it was better made than most he’d worn until recently. Ever since the attack on the palace, Bastan no longer bothered to hide his wealth. He had begun to openly carry his sword, and there was a certain determination in his step.
He glanced around the tavern and noticed Sam sitting with Kevin and walked over to join them.
“Samara. I didn’t expect to see you here, but when you weren’t at the palace—”
“You went to the palace to look for me?”
Bastan nodded.
“You’re going to have to be careful, Bastan. You might start to lose your reputation as a terrifying crime lord.”
“I don’t think I ever had a reputation as a terrifying anything,” Bastan said.
“You might be surprised,” Kevin said.
Bastan shot him a look. Kevin shrugged and stood and made his way back to the kitchen, tipping his head to the tray as a signal for Sam to keep eating.
“With everything that has changed, I almost thought that you might decide to move to one of the highborn sections,” she said to Bastan.
“Not so much has changed that it would keep me from my home,” Bastan said.
“You don’t have to stay here. I think Jalen would let you stay in the palace. The gods know he’s not staying there.”
Bastan frowned at her, staring at her for a moment. “You say that almost as if it bothers you.”
“I guess it bothers me that Alec has gotten so friendly with the king. I guess it bothers me that it turns out the king is a Scribe. It bothers me that—”
Bastan shook his head. “It bothers you that you have responsibilities and you can’t spend all the time you would like with your friend.”
“That bothers me,” Sam said, shoveling another bite into her mouth. It did nothing to settle the nausea in her stomach, but she forced herself to chew and then to swallow.
“There are advantages to remaining in the outer sections,” Bastan said. “Especially with the issue we have in the city.”
“The issue?” Sam looked up and paused before sticking a lump of bread in her mouth and chewing.
“The entire outer rim of sections is under my observation,” Bastan said. “Everyone who lives in any of the outer sections will report to me or people who work on my behalf.”
“The Shuver now works on your behalf?”
“I have provided him with certain freedom he didn’t have before.”
“You don’t care about his violence?”
“A certain level of violence is required with what we do, Samara. You have seen that. And Chester is no more violent than any others who have operated in these outer sections.”
“You’re not that violent.”
“No. I have never needed to be.”
Sam stared at him, considering. “You’re keeping an eye on him. That’s why you don’t worry about what he might do.”
Bastan merely shrugged. “I wouldn’t let someone operate in the city that I didn’t have complete faith in. And I don’t have complete faith in Chester, at least not to do as I think is necessary. This way, I am simply ensuring that he doesn’t attempt anything that I feel would be overly ambitious.”
“How?” Sam set down the piece of bread she’d been eating. She couldn’t force anything more into her stomach.
“I have men observing him. It takes little more than that. And he knows I have men observing him. If he wants to remain in power, even in the Oldansh section and those adjoining it, then he will abide by my expectations.”
“And this is how you will find out what Helen is up to?”
“I suspect Helen has money and connections that will allow her a different type of access,” Bastan said.
“By that, you mean she will be in the highborn section.”
“Either highborn or merchant. I don’t know, but I have people searching.”
Sam breathed out, controlling the frustration she felt. She had to trust Bastan, and she did. If anyone would find what Helen had done, or where she had gone, it would be Bastan. Having eyes literally in every section, it was unlikely she could leave the city. In essence, she was trapped, even if she didn’t know it. That meant they had only to find where she had gone.
But the city was enormous. Even with Bastan’s people searching, Sam knew his access in the inner sections of the city was limited. If Helen had access to the merchant and highborn sections, it would be difficult to find her. There were just too many places for her to hide.
“She’s up to something,” she said.
“And by something, I presume that you mean the markings that Marin showed me.”
“Marin showed you?”
“She thought I should be aware. She wanted me to keep an eye out for anyone who might be making those markings.”
“Why?”
“You would understand this better than I would, but she believes we will find them on the paper. And when we do, that’s how we will know. Marin wanted me to be aware so that we would recognize them if we came across them.”
It was a good plan, but it didn’t make it any easier. Knowing about the markings didn’t mean they would be able to find them, and even if they did, it wouldn’t stop Helen and the others working with her from making others. It did nothing to prevent them from continuing to attempt to break free.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to stop her.”
“If you think that, then we won’t.”
Sam shot him a look.
Bastan only shrugged. “If you believe that you will fail, then you already have. If you believe you will succeed, then the likelihood is high that you will.”
Sam lifted the bread and took a quick bite. “Every time I think I know you, you say something that surprises me.”
“Why would that surprise you?”
“It surprises me that you sound like you’ve become a philosopher. I bet you would fit in well at the university.”
“They would never accept me there.”
Sam laughed, thinking that Bastan was making a joke, but he didn’t laugh along with her. “You wouldn’t want to go to the university.”
“I have never wanted to be a physicker, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t pursue knowledge, especially at a place like that.”
“I don’t know. Now that Alec has been promoted to master physicker, you might be able to spend more time there than you realize.”
Bastan grinned at her. “What makes you think that I haven’t?”
She waited for him to laugh, and when he didn’t, she stuck her tongue out at him. He was taunting her. She was sure of it.
“What are you doing to find Helen?”
“I’m doing what I can. As I said, my connections in the inner portion of the city are not quite as robust as what they are elsewhere. There are limitations to who and where I can reach.”
“We need to find her as quickly as we can,” Sam said.
“No, you want to find her as quickly as you can so that you can go after Tray. You don’t have to wait to do that. No one will fault you for choosing to leave.”
“Choosing to leave? I don’t intend to leave. I’m just saying—”
“You’re just saying that you want to go after Tray. You have made that clear over the last few months, Samara. Your friend would understand.”
Sam watched Bastan for a moment, and then she sighed. “Alec might understand, but others won’t.”
“What others?”
“You.”
Bastan smiled at her. “Do you suddenly care so much what I think?”
“It’s not suddenly, but…” Now that Bastan had shown his true colors, how could she feel anything but aff
ection for him? “I do care. I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you too. I know what you’ve done for me.”
“Ah, now you’re going to make me blush. You don’t have to worry about what I think of your decision, Samara. I want for you what I’ve always wanted.”
“And what is that?”
“I want your happiness. If that involves you going after Tray, then so be it. I understand the importance of your brother to you.”
“You don’t think I should leave well enough alone since he’s not really my brother?”
“Why is he not really your brother? Because you don’t share parents? Plenty of people don’t share parents yet have a connection that would only be described as sibling-like. I think Tray is as much your brother as anyone can be. You care about him the same way any sister would care about her brother, and you would do anything for him.” Bastan smiled. “Is that not what you thought I would say?”
Sam took a deep breath. “I… I don’t know.”
“If you think that you need to remain because others expect it of you, I want you to know that is unnecessary. As I have tried to tell you, you need to do what is best for you and what you feel is right.”
Sam pushed the tray away from her, sliding it across the table. She hadn’t felt hungry to begin with, and now she watched Bastan, trying to decide what she would say to him.
The door to the tavern opened, and a man Sam had not seen before walked in. He had a balding head and a thick beard and was well dressed—far better dressed than anyone in Caster tended to be. He hesitated for a moment, looking around the tavern before his gaze settled on Bastan. The man hurried over to the table. “Bastan. There is something you need to see.”
“Edward, it’s not wise for you to come here.”
“I understand that it’s not wise, but as I said, there is something you need to see.”
Bastan got up, and Edward turned toward the door, heading out of the tavern. Sam grabbed another bite of bread and hurried after them. When they were on the street, Bastan glanced back at her, shaking his head. “No, Samara. This is not for you.”
“I get to decide what’s for me.”
Bastan glared at her for a long moment before taking a deep breath. “I suppose that you do.”