The Quarrygate Gambit, page 31
“She?” Verci asked.
“Liora,” Almer said. “But he’s so deep in his head, I can’t even hear him anymore, just her.”
“Can’t let go,” Asti whispered. He held still, nearly like a statue.
Verci tried shaking him. “Asti! Listen to me!”
“Can’t let go.”
“Asti!”
* * *
“Asti, you can let go. It’s fine, just let go.”
Asti heard the voice, Verci’s voice, but he knew it was a trick. He couldn’t trust any of it. Here in this cell again, nothing was real, nothing but the chain.
And Liora and the beast. They were real.
But Verci couldn’t be there, he couldn’t be. And he couldn’t let go of the chain.
“Like Verci would be here to save you. Like he could.” Liora was right in Asti’s face. “He knows you’re a failure. He knows he’s safer without you. His wife and child are safer without you.”
Asti had no response to that. She was right.
“You put him in danger. He was stuck in that prison because of you, and your stupid plan, your stupid revenge. And against who? Me? The people who burned your house?”
“They . . . they . . .” Asti could barely find breath, let alone words.
“They’re building something, something to help the whole city. And what have you done?”
“I’ve . . . I’ve tried . . .”
“You’ve done nothing but ruin everything you touch. A broken man, a killer.”
“I killed with you, I killed for you.”
“And you will again,” Liora said. “All I need is you to let it take over. And then you’ll really serve as you were meant to. You’ll be the weapon you were supposed to be.”
“No.”
“Come on, Asti,” Verci’s voice echoed in the distance. “By every saint, it’s done, just let go. We walk right out.”
“There’s no way I walk out,” Asti said. “I’m not getting out this time.”
“You never got out,” Liora said, gesturing around the cell they were in, the cell in Levtha where the Poasians tore his mind to pieces. “This is where Asti Rynax died. What escaped, that was just a broken shard. A shattered waste, not even worthy of being called a man.”
“I am . . .” Asti tried to say, but the words were too hard. He couldn’t even make himself believe them, couldn’t get his mouth to say them. Maybe they weren’t true at all. Maybe Liora was right.
“You know I am. Because I live in this broken head of yours, and nothing, nothing you can do will get rid of me. I am the truth you need to admit, Asti. I am the part of you that you hate, and you hate yourself. There’s no absolution, no amount of penance, that will clean the blood on your hands, the sin on your soul.”
“I . . . I saved . . .”
“Burn for your sins, Asti,” Liora said. “And when the fire consumes you, all that will be left is me, and that.” She pointed to the beast. “And then you will be what the Brotherhood meant you to be. Then you will—”
Liora was interrupted by a crack of metal and flesh, and she dropped to the floor of the cell. Standing, bright and luminous where she had been, was a young woman in old armor, painted blue. Her cloistress cowl barely contained the wild blond hair underneath. And in her hand, she held the mighty mace that she had felled Liora with.
“Kindly be quiet, you vicious miscreant,” she hissed.
“I . . . I . . .” Asti said, barely able to speak. “I know you.”
The blond holy woman smiled. “Of course you do.” She came up to him and gently placed a hand on his face, touching him like a cool breeze. “Oh, Asti, you know she’s a liar, right?”
“No, no, she’s telling the truth.”
“No,” she said. “We’ve not yet gotten to the point where you trust me, or believe me, and . . . when you really see me again, when we truly meet, we won’t understand each other, but . . . I need you to have faith in me right now.”
“My faith . . . my faith is as shattered as the rest of me.”
“I know it is, dear friend. I know it is. But listen to me, she was lying to you, Asti.”
“No, she wasn’t,” Asti said.
Liora moaned and started to rise. “Who the blazes are you, kitten? This head is my place to play.”
Sister Myriem—Asti realized who she was—knocked Liora back with another blow of her mace.
“No more,” she bellowed, a voice that shook Asti to the center of his being, “I abjure you, in the name of Saint Alexis.” She knocked Liora back again. “I abjure you in the name of Saint Bridget.” Another blow sent Liora into the wall. “With every bit of power God has granted me, I abjure you.”
Then she grabbed a piece of the wall, which became a great iron door, and slammed it closed over Liora.
And there was silence.
“Asti,” Sister Myriem said, limping back to him. “I don’t have a lot of strength left.”
“Neither do I,” Asti said.
“I know you don’t, that’s why you need to let go now.”
“I can’t let go of the chain,” Asti said. “I can’t let it loose. Like Liora, I can’t . . .”
“Liora is gone,” Sister Myriem said. She pointed to the iron door. “There is nothing behind that door you need, do you understand?”
Asti looked to the beast, still on its chain. “But it’s still here. If I let it loose, if I let go.”
Myriem struggled to walk to the beast, and took its hand. “He’s nothing to be afraid of. All he is, is a piece of you. You think he’s a danger, but, he’s just like you.” She guided the beast closer to Asti.
“He’ll . . . he’ll kill you.”
“No,” she said. “He and I, like you and I, we’re old friends. You have your own journey still, but it starts here, with you accepting the truth about him, and the truth about yourself.”
“What truth is that?” Asti asked.
One hand holding the beast’s, she cupped Asti’s face with the other, and the warmth that came from her, the love, the faith, was more intense than anything Asti had ever felt.
“That you, Asti Rynax, are a worthy soul.”
She kissed him on the forehead, and Asti’s fear, his pain, it all faded away as she whispered, “Now let go, and take his hand.”
Asti let go of the chain and reached out, and a hand grabbed his, and then both hands.
Asti looked up, and the cell was gone, the beast was gone—back in Sholiar’s lair.
And clutching both his hands was Verci.
“Are you with me, brother?” Verci asked.
“Here,” Asti rasped. “You came.”
“Of course I came,” Verci said. “When it’s you, I’ll always come.”
Asti grabbed his brother in a tight embrace.
“Are we all right?”
“I have Sholiar wrapped up like a Terrentin gift for Grieson, Almer and the others are out of their traps. We can walk right out.”
Asti pulled back and looked at Verci’s face, seeing how tired his eyes were, how much anger and pain they held. “Everyone else?”
“Ken, Julie, and Vellun are out, they’re safe. Pilsen . . . we need to raise several glasses for Pilsen.”
“No . . .” The last bits of strength that kept Asti standing failed him, his knees turning to water.
“He saved us, he did,” Verci said. “A great last performance.”
“I’ve definitely been saved,” Asti said. The memory of the vision in the cell—the nightmare—was hazy and fading. But Liora was completely silent now. Gone from his mind. And the beast, not gone, but . . . content.
“Can you walk?” Verci asked.
“If you help me,” Asti said.
“Every time.”
Chapter 29
A WAGON HAD ARRIVED QUIETLY, and the immobilized body of Sholiar was loaded into it. Asti sat on the curb of the walkway as the pair of Intelligence cleaners dealt with that and the dead bodies with simple efficiency.
“I thought you had no power,” he said to Grieson.
“I have no personal power,” Grieson said. “I have drop codes for putting in directives to embedded and isolated operatives. You know how it goes, orders come and you don’t know who made them. I had access to just enough systems that aren’t corrupted, can’t be corrupted, because there are blinds in place to prevent that.”
“And that’s how you cleared our names again?” Verci stressed, looming over Grieson. “That’s done?”
“It’s done, orders in. By now, on paper, everything connecting you to the Tacklins is gone, the documents claiming you were dead are corrected. It’s like it never happened.”
“One of our friends is dead,” Asti said. “It happened, and I will—”
“Easy, Asti,” Verci said. “You’re in no shape to kill him right now.”
“So we’re going back to Quarrygate?” Tharek asked as Yendick disconnected Almer from the crystal. “You let them go, but I have to return? This is injustice.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be in prison in the first place,” Asti told him. “The whole Tacklin thing was a cock-up. Like I told you.”
“And Grieson knows if he doesn’t let Almer and Asti go, I’ll kill him,” Verci said. He gestured to Kat’rick, Tharek, and Hoskins. “Though I might be inclined to insist the same for these three. Especially the squirrel guy.”
Grieson moved in closer to Verci and Asti and whispered. “I cannot let them go. Tharek still has a very public trial pending. Kat’rick is earmarked for other missions like this, and Hoskins . . .” He glanced over at the man, sitting weakly on the wagon with a squirrel on his knee. “He’s an actual monster. He massacred an entire village to make it a haven for himself and the squirrels.”
“Really?” Asti said. “He seems harmless.”
“An entire village,” Grieson stressed.
Asti shrugged. “I guess they should go back.” He pulled himself to his feet and came up to Tharek. “Listen, I . . . this all has been a mess, but . . .”
“Silence, Rynax,” Tharek said. “We had a moment of connection, do not think it was more than that. We both needed a sliver of joy, and we took it.”
“Right,” Asti said. “I wasn’t going to make a romantic declaration or anything.”
“I have already had my heart torn out in front of me,” Tharek said. “I wouldn’t have had anything to give you in return.”
“All right,” Asti said. “Good luck with the trial.”
“Luck will not serve me,” Tharek said. “May you find some peace in what’s to come for you, and I will strive for the same.”
Yendick sighed, and made a gesture, and Tharek, Hoskins, and Kat’rick all dropped out cold. “I don’t need all these goodbyes from you all. Let’s get them back, Grieson.”
“Get Asti out,” Grieson said.
Yendick walked over to Asti and put his hand over the crystal. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to fade the tether instead of break it.”
“What does that mean?” Verci asked.
“It means it will take about a half a bell for the connection to truly end, but it will go slowly. He won’t be bound to us by proximity, though.”
Asti understood. “It’s so he and Grieson can get away without me killing them.”
“I could kill them,” Almer said.
“Don’t push yourself,” Verci said. “It’s fine, we don’t want to kill them today.”
“We don’t?” Asti asked him.
“Not quite.”
Asti felt a warmth pull out of his body through the crystal into Yendick’s hand, and then Yendick walked away.
“That it?”
“The crystal will crumble to dust as it fades,” Yendick said, getting in the wagon. Grieson gave the Intelligence officers a signal, and they drove off.
“You’re not going yet?” Asti asked. “You want to wait until it fades?”
“No,” Verci said. “He’s going to answer some questions. Like why he said you’re the most important person in the city.”
“Me?” Asti asked.
“There’s too much going on to explain here in the middle of the square,” Grieson said. “Let’s start walking you home.”
“We walk, you talk,” Asti said. Grieson nodded, and they made their way toward North Seleth.
“Everything I told you before is the truth. Intelligence is almost completely corrupted, and Colonel Altarn is at the center of it.”
“That name is familiar,” Asti said.
“She was in charge of magic projects a few years back, but she’s gathered power, and is now at the colonel’s table, and has the chief in her palm. She’s got her fingers everywhere. And I’m certain she’s tied to the Brotherhood, and she’s who was controlling Liora during that Henterman affair.”
“Do you know where Liora is now?”
“I think she’s out of Maradaine, but I can’t be certain. I have so few resources, but what I do know is the Brotherhood is not gone. You might have cut out some of the roots a few months ago, but there’s still tendrils everywhere in the city, and I fear they are looking for the very things I’ve been trying to keep hidden.”
“Such as?”
“It’s better if you just try to keep it safe without knowing what it is.”
“Even assuming I’m inclined, how am I supposed to keep it safe?” Asti asked.
“Where is it?” Verci asked.
“A couple places, but most notably,” Grieson said, stopping at the mouth of an alley to look at Asti. “It’s inside your skull.”
“What they did to me at Levtha?” Asti asked.
“What we did together before that,” Grieson said. “Levtha was about getting that from you. You don’t remember, but—”
Whatever words were to follow, Grieson didn’t get to say them. His throat burst open with blood, and he dropped to his knees, clutching at his neck. Asti dropped down, tried to hold on to him, stop the bleeding.
“What happened?” Verci asked, looking around with knives drawn. “I don’t see anyone.”
Grieson’s hands dropped away, limp, and Asti saw what killed him.
“You won’t see anyone,” Asti said. “It’s a Lyranan throwing dart.”
“Lyranan?” Verci asked. “Why?”
Asti looked up to the rooftop across the street, then to the darkness of the alley below. Not that it mattered. Pra Yikenj could be anywhere. And as inconvenient as this was, he couldn’t blame her. He only hoped her desire for revenge ended with Grieson.
“I’ll explain, but we need to get off the street. Let’s get home.”
* * *
Raych ran home like demons and sinners were at her heels. She had no sense of the spectacle she was making, clearly anyone who saw her must have thought she had lost her mind, but she didn’t care. didn’t feel anything in her legs or lungs or heart, she didn’t feel anything in her body at all, she just ran.
Verci had gotten the others out, and he went back for Asti. He must have succeeded. He had to be home already, waiting for her. She had to believe that or she would fall apart.
She nearly crashed through the back door of the Gadgeterium, pounding up the stairs into the apartments.
“Verci! Verci!” she called out as she burst into their apartment. Everything was still a mess from the last time she had been here two days ago. She had been so focused on pulling this job, it had been the only way to get Verci back, and . . .
There was a note on the table. She grabbed it.
My love—
I’m free, but Asti needs to be saved. See you very soon.
All my heart
—Verci
Finally the exertion of running caught up with her, her heart slamming in her chest, her breath short, and all the tears of the last week finally pouring out of her. She dropped to her knees, her lungs burning, her face wet, as she made the dry heaving sound of sobs that had no breath to support them.
Then hands touched her shoulders.
“Raych?”
His hands. His voice.
She spun round as she got off her knees, to see his face. His face was scraped up, his chin patchy and scraggly—he never could grow a beard—and he smelled absolutely awful. She didn’t care.
She grabbed his face and kissed him, kissed him like she wanted to consume him completely, as if in the act of kissing him she could make him so completely a part of her that he could never leave her side again.
When her need for air finally won over her need to kiss him, she pulled back and looked deep into his very tired eyes.
He smiled that infuriating smile of his. “So did you rob a museum for me?”
She burst out laughing, more tears with it. “Not the whole museum, just five paintings.”
“Were they good paintings?”
“Extraordinary, actually,” she said. “You . . . you look like you had a busy day.”
“Well, I didn’t get a lot of sleep, and then I unleashed unholy terror on Quarrygate Prison to get our friends out, then went back, and had to save these boys from the Gearbox Killer.” He gestured to the door, where Asti and Almer were both holding each other up, both of them looking absolutely wretched. Almer’s arm was twisted in ways no person’s limbs were supposed to go.
“Sweet prophets, look at you!” she said, going over to them. She kissed each of them on the cheek, and took a moment to take in Asti’s face. His eyes, for once, didn’t seem anywhere near as troubled as usual. “Are you all right?”
“I’m in considerable pain, but . . . oddly, yes.”
“We should get you to Doc Gelson’s, or better yet, get him here,” Verci said.
“What’s this about you stealing paintings?” Asti asked.
“From the Druth History Museum, yes,” she said.
He chuckled. “I don’t know if I would ever try that.”
“You would, if you needed to,” she said. She looked back to Verci. “I was ready to do whatever I needed to for you all.”
“I know the feeling,” Verci said.
Helene came up the stairs, and immediately embraced Almer and Asti, though Almer yelped when she did.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “Saints, what happened to your arm?”
