A shadow emerged. Long, sharp teeth. Vicious snout full of them. Hide and a cloak borne of shadows. Small horns tenting the cloak. Wailing in the mist.
The Strix inhaled, if such a feat was possible for an inanimate object. “MELT ME DOWN INTO A TOOTHPICK. IT’S LEMURES.”
XLIV
Emre
GLOOMY LIGHT FROM a dingy orb in the center of a rock-hewn ceiling shone down upon him as he paced. A single copper pipe limply affixed to the side of his prison cell sparked randomly from a splintered line. It reminded him of his current predicament amidst his plans.
Even a wayward path leads to power.
In a cell opposite was Finn, who lay upon a lumpy mattress that smelt of wet straw. The elfir had a bruise alongside his temple and he was sound asleep with one of his arms slung across his eyes. How he’d been able to sleep at a time like this, Emre would never know, but it was a trait he admired about Finn. One of many.
Traits he would miss when all was said and done. Still it, Benld. Remember the why, remember the laughter along the way. Don’t linger on the hurt, the unsaid words. What must be, must be. For her.
Anger threatened to overtake him, but he fought it back as he paced, trying to contain the simmering rage as well as keep his fingers from digging into his scarred arms. He shouldn’t be angry, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Betrayal was a difficult thorn to remove. Sighing, Emre stilled his emotions, harnessing them until the end.
“Psst, humir.”
Ruane crouched outside his prison. The drakken hid in the shadows of the dim light, her snout pressed close to the bars.
“Ruane, you’re safe.”
She snorted. “You think these humir could catch me?”
“Never crossed my mind. I assume you planted the rest of the bombs?”
“Every one of them,” she said. “All of it.” Stressing the importance of the latter sentence.
“Good.”
Ruane reached into her vest pocket and withdrew a small aetheric detonator and a leather folding wallet, handing them through the bars. Emre slipped the detonator into his waistcoat pocket next to his father’s heirloom watch. He had been patted down upon his capture, but the soldiers of the Imperium hadn’t taken his watch, just his engraved multi-barrel wheellock pistol. At least he had one of the two things remaining from his parents.
Within the folding wallet were four vials of parch. The liquid reflected the dingy light. How odd it was that such a small thing had been the impetus for Drenth’s destruction? He brought the vials to his lips and downed them, the fires of aether burning the entire way. He felt rejuvenated and prepared for what was to come. He hoped.
The young hatchling of Tevun’s brood tapped at the bars with her claws. “Your bikrome was the one to do this to you?”
“You saw?” He sighed when she nodded.
It shouldn’t have surprised him, he knew the drakken siblings would learn the truth one way or another. Perhaps he shouldn’t have withheld the truth from them. So many decisions he might have done differently.
“And you knew the bikrome would betray you to the Fallen?” This time it was he who nodded in affirmation. “My father, did he know?” Another nod. “And he allowed this?”
How could he possibly explain to her so she would understand that her father had sacrificed himself for the greater good? For Eminence? He didn’t know if she would understand. Void, Emre wasn’t certain he truly did, and it was his only goal since being brought back to life.
It was like Cad always said, ‘never trust the gods.’ How right she had been.
“And yet, you still trusted her. She betrayed you. Betrayed my father. Betrayed Eminence. Not once, but twice now. How do you reconcile that?”
“That is a question I ask myself daily, Ruane. But the answer isn’t what you think it means. What Val did… what she has done, it was for Brynn, my daughter. She is the Godsblood. She is the answer to reopening Eminence.”
Ruane hissed. “You’d sell your soul to see your daughter break the Seals? That is not the path of the Pentax, humir. That is the path of Nocturne.”
“All will become clear, Ruane. You just have to trust me. The Pentax is not what you or any of us think.”
“You couldn’t have done any of this without us, humir. Lojen trusts you. Me? I don’t know. But if my father put his trust in you, then I have to see it to the end. For him.”
Emre touched Ruane’s leathery talon. She winced at being touched by a man, he knew how much she detested his race, but she didn’t pull away. “Thank you, Ruane Tevunsdotyr.”
“How do you reconcile your heart, Emre Benld?”
“When this is over, I will mourn. I will let it consume me. But until then, nothing.”
“You’re a cold one, humir. For that, I admire you.”
“I’m not one to admire. But I do have a favor to ask. My daughter is here, aboard Gargantua. I expected Solanine to have her by this point, but something may have happened to her. I need you to find her and escape before we finish this. Will you do it for me?”
“How will I know this daughter of yours?” When Emre described her, Ruane’s snout went wide in sharp teeth glory. “Ah, she’s the wet-fish-looking one dancing?” Emre smiled at Brynn’s appearance earlier. “As you’ve asked. I’ll find her for you, Emre Benld.”
“I will forever be in your debt, Ruane. There will be an airglider waiting for you here.” He fingered a small piece of parchment from the seams in his waistcoat, a hidden compartment the soldiers hadn’t discovered, and handed it to her. “She must go to Kalderim. Please see her there. If we cannot meet you before, take her. If she doesn’t get to Kalderim, everything will be for naught.”
Ruane straightened, which for a drakken female meant a six-and-a-half-foot height. She placed her clawed talon upon her breast. “I swear on my father’s horns as wardkeeper to see her to Kalderim. Even if I have to shove her into a sack and carry her there.”
Emre laughed. “I’d love to see that, truly, I would. O, she goes by the name Ashe, but her true name is Brynn. Brynn Benld.”
Unexpectedly, Ruane grabbed Emre’s hand. “Justice with you, Emre Benld. ‘Til we meet again.” And then she disappeared into the shadows.
