The Duelist 11, page 16
“This is too much coincidence for my liking,” Shay said, which of course meant none of this was coincidental at all. “We need to discuss this with the others.”
“Agreed,” I said with a nod, and the three of us headed back upstairs.
Janis and the pool of blood he’d left behind were gone, and the floor was as spotless as if nothing had happened.
Amaya caught me looking at the clean floor and put a hand on my shoulder.
“You gave him every chance to back out,” she said to me gently. “It was a tragedy, but it’s not your fault.”
“I could have just refused him,” I sighed. “I could have just told him to go cool off. I didn’t have to take up his challenge.”
“He would have attacked you anyway if you hadn’t,” the oryx-woman told me. “He was filled with too much grief and rage. You cannot save people if they don’t want to be saved. You cannot save them from themselves.”
I tipped my head to rest my temple against Amaya’s and managed a small smile.
“Thanks,” I said gruffly.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a soft chuckle, and she stroked one hand over the top of my back.
“I love you,” I told her.
“I love you, too,” she replied before she pulled back to kiss my temple, and then we turned back to business.
It was easy enough to assemble the others back in the family room, and we told them all what we’d found. As I’d suspected, Horus and Zoie had the most extreme reactions, because they’d seen the cleric’s machine on Eng, too, and they knew first-hand what it was capable of.
“And that’s an obsolete version?” the falcon-man asked.
I could see he was caught between horror and fascination, because there was part of him that wanted to know how the machines worked. He was an Alchemist, after all, and he could pick locks. If anyone in our Crew-- aside from Jenner-- would be interested to look over the tinker-shop, it would be Horus.
“Yeah,” I said heavily. “So, the version the Council currently has is going to be a lot more powerful.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like this,” Sha-Kane said with a frown. “Some of the Council must not be fully involved.”
“Presumably, it’s only the Sacred Sixty-Four,” Horus said. “Fifty-nine of the seats are held by direct descendants. So the other six-- including you and Alex-- would be deliberately frozen out.”
“There have been… rumors over the years,” Sha-Kane then said, and his expression had turned dark. “Not of that machine, but of firstborn sons to some of the other Councilmen. They disapproved of something, and shortly afterward, accidents befell them, and their younger brothers, the secondborn sons, assumed the position of heir.”
“Accidents,” I repeated. “Right. Like a smaller version of The Ousting, then?”
“If you like,” the osprey-man said with a shrug. “I had wondered, all through the time Shaw Aras mentored me, what could have disgusted even them, the sons of so many generations of power and wealth.”
“And it was the revelation that their fathers and grandfathers had been puppeting Aventoll,” I said grimly. “That they’d abused their gifts to rig the system eternally in their favor.”
“No wonder the Council is so corrupt,” Zoie said, and her ears flattened against her head in disapproval. “They murder anyone who isn’t on board with their program. It’s like a cult.”
‘Cult’ actually sounded like a pretty good word for it. Several people we’d encountered had been in need of some serious deprogramming-- Janis, the cleric, Aiken, and so on. If my suspicions about the machine being used to control all the demons in Aventoll was correct, then maybe the Alda brothers had some impact. What had initially been used as a way to protect the Peoples became a weapon to threaten them into submission. I wouldn’t put it past the two brothers to want to inspire cult-like obsession in their followers. They’d seen the opportunity to grab for power, and they’d dived in head first.
“If it is a cult, then how far does its influence stretch?” Anwaar asked. “I suppose not many people outside the Council would know the details-- like the existence and purpose of the machine-- but there must be others who know parts.”
“I agree,” Shay said with a nod. “I wonder how many of the servants knew the truth about what was really down there, in the basement. Not just the machine, but Sera’s prison.”
At the mention of her old cell, the Lakuna woman gave a slight shudder, and Sha-Kane put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I doubt they would’ve known the purpose of the machine, even if they knew it was there,” I said. “But yeah, I wouldn’t mind knowing just how involved they were with Teivel’s plans.”
In Janis’ case, it seemed like a little more than fanatical loyalty. It seemed like he’d known there was a specific secret that needed to stay under wraps. He must have known the machine was powerful and dangerous. He must have known Sera had been kept prisoner down there for seasons.
The fact the kudu-man hadn’t reacted when Sera showed up as Sha-Kane’s ‘wife’ when we’d all arrived was impressive, but maybe he hadn’t known about her. Or at least, he’d only known that Teivel had been keeping a prisoner, not what she looked like, or her name.
“There’s only one way to find out how much the servants know,” I said, and I rose to my feet and walked into the main hallway.
The first servant I saw was the young antlered woman from earlier, Bonnie.
“Bonnie,” I said to her. “Could you come in for a moment, please? We’d like to speak with you.”
“Yes, Asher Brightwood,” she said at once, and she gave a small curtsy before she scurried into the family room and stood before all of us like she was a participant in some kind of contest.
I decided to let Shay take the lead, since she had the best sense of how to handle it. Amaya and Anwaar might have grown up on Alem, but they’d spent most of their lives in the Order. Shay, meanwhile, had been groomed to run a large and prestigious household, and I suspected Bonnie would be less likely to lie out of fear if a kind-faced woman was asking her, instead of the guy who’d killed one of her colleagues less than an hour ago.
Not to mention, I kind of wanted to stick it to the more traditional servants who didn’t like being addressed by an Asher’s wife instead of the Asher himself. If they were going to stay working in this house, they’d need to learn to treat everyone in it with respect, not just me.
“How many of you know what is in the basement of this manor?” the phoenix-woman asked, and I was slightly awed by how she commanded such a presence. Part of it was the wings, sure, but part of it was just her natural demeanor.
She was a born queen.
“None of us were permitted entry to the basement, Lady Shale-Lea,” Bonnie answered. Her voice was slightly tremulous, but her expression and posture were determined. “It was for Asher Tas only.”
“I didn’t ask if you ever went in there, I asked if anyone knows what’s down there,” Shay told her. “Would any of the servants have been privy to more of his secrets? I don’t need to know what they are, I just want to know who would have held Teivel’s closer counsel.”
“Well… I-I suppose that would have been Janis,” Bonnie said, and I could see she was worried that providing an unhelpful answer would land her in trouble. “The Luter family have served the Tas family since the days of Tessen and the Sacred Sixty-Four.”
“Anyone else?” Shay asked.
“Um… a couple, perhaps,” the deer-woman said slowly. “Ferrin. Yarlow. Possibly Bastion, too.”
“Could you fetch them and bring them here?” the phoenix-woman requested, and Bonnie nodded, gave another curtsy, and dashed out. Once she’d closed the door behind her, Shay turned to me. “What do you think we should do with those people?”
“Well, let’s figure out what they know, first,” I said. “If they promise to abide by the law that Teivel’s assets are now mine, then we have no reason to fire them, or be dicks to them. But if they’re going to threaten our mission to stop the Council’s corruption… we may need to take stronger action.”
“You mean kill them?” Horus asked, and he asked it in such a completely neutral tone of voice that it threw me for a moment.
Some of it, I guessed, was because he’d grown up in a world where death was pretty common. But I also suspected it was because he didn’t want me to think he was judging me for killing Janis.
He didn’t need to worry, though. He was my best friend, and I knew he’d never judge me, certainly not without saying something about it. We had to communicate with each other honestly if we were going to work as a team to save Aventoll.
“I really hope not,” I said to the falcon-man. “It’s not like killing Teivel. He was insane and trying to kill us, and he was actively helping to preserve this fucked-up system of power. I don’t want to kill people because they’re loyal to their old master. That’s what tyrants do.”
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door, and Bonnie entered with three men. Two of them were Alemic, and the third was Leenian.
I did my best to remember the names Janis listed off earlier. The Leenian was Ferrin, and the Alemic men were Yarlow and Bastion. The former had short, stubby goat’s horns, and the latter had gazelle horns.
“Thank you, Bonnie,” I said to the Elaphin woman. “That will be all for now.”
The antlered woman gave another curtsy, dashed off, and left the three men alone with our group.
“Please,” I said to the three of them, and I gestured to the empty couch opposite where Zoie and the others had all sat down. “Take a seat.”
Cautiously, the servants did so. I could tell they wanted to ask about what was going on, but they were all too nervous to be the first one to speak.
“Did Bonnie say why we wanted to speak with you?” Shay asked the three men, and I was pleased to see they all looked at her when she spoke to them, instead of ignoring her like Janis had.
“Just that Asher Brightwood had something he wanted to ask us,” Yarlow replied. A second later, he added, “Lady Shale-Lea.”
“‘Shay’ is perfectly fine, Mr. Yarlow,” the phoenix-woman assured him. “Only my father calls me Shale-Lea.”
“Oh,” Yarlow said, and his eyes widened slightly. “I-- I meant no offense, Lady Shay.”
“None taken,” she promised, and she raised a graceful hand. “Now, we just have a few questions we’d like to ask you.”
She gestured in my direction, and the three men’s heads all swiveled to look at me. I tried to look like I felt comfortable in this place, and not like a newcomer and a stranger.
“Bonnie tells me the three of you knew what was in the basement,” I said. “Is this true?”
“About the fact that Asher Tas and his father, Tisen, had a prisoner down there?” Bastion asked, and I nodded. He bowed his head shamefully. “We did. We were never permitted to go down there, but we knew.”
“I’m the cook,” Yarlow explained. “And Asher Tas would instruct me to make an extra meal each evening.”
“I was to bring it to the door of the workshop,” Ferrin added. “And to bring medicine. More often than not… sedatives.”
“Did you never meet this prisoner?” I asked. “Did you know where they came from, or their name?”
“No, sir,” Ferrin said with a shake of his head. “Asher Tas and his father were always very tight-lipped. I suspect Janis may have known more, but he never confided in us.”
“He was always very stringent about keeping the family’s secrets,” Bastion added.
“And where do the three of you stand?” I asked them.
“If I may, Asher Brightwood?” Ferrin asked, and I nodded to the raccoon-man. “I know a family’s secrets are their property, and it is the duty of a servant to hold them as close as his own secrets, but by the laws of Aventoll and Duelists, you are now in possession of Asher Tas’ assets, including his secrets.”
“Good to know,” I said as Yarlow and Bastion nodded in agreement. “Why didn’t you ever do anything about the prisoner?”
“No one would have done anything,” Yarlow said plainly. “The Tas family is ancient and revered. No one would have dared to prosecute them over something like that, not unless Asher Tas had kidnapped someone of equal status, such as the son or daughter of a fellow Councilman.”
“But no one was ever reported missing, so we knew it could not have been someone like that,” Bastion added. “And we were never permitted to enter the workshop, anyway. We would have had no way of rescuing them.”
“Fortunately, that’s no longer needed,” I said, and I gestured to Sera.
The three men all stared at her goggle-eyed, and I genuinely wondered for a moment if Ferrin would fall right off the couch.
“A-A Lakuna?” Yarlow asked in a shaking voice. “Asher Tas kept a Lakuna woman prisoner?”
“Sacrilege,” Ferrin muttered in horror. “A dishonor against the Sacred Fish, and Mercedes herself.”
I was honestly kind of relieved by their shock, because it meant they’d been telling the truth, and hopefully it meant I could trust them not to try and kill me in my sleep, or challenge me to a Duel like Janis had.
“You swear you had no knowledge other than that there was a prisoner in the workshop?” I asked the men. “Nothing else?”
“Only that Asher Tas had some kind of… machine down there,” Bastion said, and he ran a hand down one of his long, curved gazelle horns as he spoke, like he was self-conscious. “We’re not tinkers, and he was secretive, but it was some kind of project that the Council had asked him to work on.”
“The Council must be wanting to make improvements to the current version,” Horus said to me, and I nodded.
“Sounds like it,” I agreed before I turned back to the three servants. “That’s all you know about the basement?”
“Yes,” Ferrin said. “We give you our words.”
“Then I’ll take you at your word,” I told the men. “I won’t judge you for Teivel’s actions, or those of his father. And I would like to apologize for what happened with Janis. I know he was your friend, your colleague.”
“Janis was a good man, a loyal man, but he was stuck in his ways,” Bastion said in a grim tone. “The law is the law, and we are Alemic. We know that if an Asher is killed in a Duel, then the transference of assets must occur.”
“I’m not asking you to pretend like your old master never existed,” I said. “I just ask that you treat me with the respect you would treat a master if, for example, you left Teivel’s service and found a new job. I don’t expect that level of loyalty and devotion, we’ve only just met. But I trust you are good men and good servants.”
“We are, Asher Brightwood,” Yarlow said as he bowed his head. “And… Janis said Asher Tas was an innocent… but I’m not so sure if that was true.”
“Oh?” I asked lightly.
“Well, he was keeping a Lakuna prisoner,” the goat-horned cook said with a shrug. “That is an offense against Mercedes herself. I am ashamed to learn I ever served someone who showed such disregard to the Goddess.”
“I would argue it’s just as shameful to serve anyone who keeps an innocent as a prisoner,” I said with a raised eyebrow. “But I know what you mean about the system being stacked heavily in the Council’s favor.”
“Miss,” Bastion then said directly to Sera. He looked distraught. “Can you ever forgive us?”
Sera was quiet for a long moment. She had one of Sha-Kane’s hands in her lap, clasped between her own, and her knuckles were pale from how tightly she held on.
“It is a great deal of effort to hold anger in your heart,” the Lakuna woman said at last. “And you are not the ones who took me prisoner. Do not weigh yourselves with guilt for my sake. Use this chance to help others where you can, instead.”
Bastion looked like he might burst into tears. As it was, he buried his head in his hands, and it had to be Yarlow who said, “Thank you, ma’am.”
I dismissed the three servants, and after the door closed behind them, I felt my body slump in exhaustion.
“Alex,” Zoie said, and she came to my side. “You need to rest.”
“There’s still too much to do,” I said with a shake of my head. “The machine, the Red Skies--”
“Will still be there come morning,” the cat-woman reminded me. “Right now, you need rest. You haven’t slept properly for two days, and it’s late.”
“I kept you up all of last night with the etiquette lessons,” Amaya agreed. “Come on, bedtime.”
I might have stood a chance at refusing them if Shay hadn’t taken their side, so it was three against one. Horus located a room for himself and Anwaar in the guest wing, as did Sha-Kane, and Nova and Sera went in search of the largest bathtub they could find. While everyone else set about their own bedtime routine, the women corralled me up to the main bedroom. Someone had clearly recently cleaned it, because the sheets smelled freshly laundered, and there were no personal effects whatsoever on the shelves. My memories became fuzzy as Zoie, Shay, and Amaya all changed into their nightclothes. I guess I must have done the same, but my limbs were heavy and sluggish, and I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. When I next opened my eyes, the Moon was an enormous silver coin in the sky staring down at me through a gap in the drapes. All the windows in this place were floor-to-ceiling, so a long shaft of silvery light cut across the shadows of the room.
“Are you alright?” a soft voice asked, and I turned my head away from the window to see Amaya was also awake. Her rain-colored eyes glowed like liquid mercury in the moonlight.
“I think so,” I said. “Just… I have trouble sleeping in new places, that’s all. And so much happened today, even though I’m tired, I think my mind is just too busy.”
“I know what you mean,” the oryx-woman admitted. “Growing up with a talent for augury like mine often meant my dreams would be laced with prophecies and secrets. There was a period when I was about eight that I was terrified to sleep because of it.”
“That’s horrible,” I murmured.
