Bloodkin (9 page)

“The position says enough,” Vance replied, “so I will respectfully stand.”

“Please,” Laurence said softly, “do not make this harder than it already is. Sit or stand as you like.”

Vance stayed where he was. Shane’s use of the word “paranoid” probably wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Even without considering the harm done by the Shantel themselves, Vance had been raised by individuals who had subtly manipulated him at every turn. He was naturally cautious as a result, which meant I was going to have to be more reasonable.

I was the one who was habitually argumentative, the trait Lucas had assigned to all members of the Obsidian guild. I tried to rein in that impulse, reminding myself that the sakkri were at least partly right. We hadn’t willingly involved ourselves in the attack on the trainers, but we had committed ourselves to it. I hadn’t fully understood the situation, but I had made up my mind: given an opportunity, I had been willing to risk my life to strike a blow against Midnight.

I hated the fact that the sakkri had manipulated me but the king had defended me. I owed them the courtesy of an open ear, at least.

With an effort at civility, I said, “Let’s begin again. Allow me to introduce Vance Obsidian. As children of Obsidian, you know we will not call you king or bow to commands, but as neighbors we will attempt to stand patiently and listen to a request. I’ll even refrain from commenting on your sakkri’s veiled threat to sell us to Midnight should we refuse, if you give us a reasonable reason to assist you.”

Laurence shook his head with what looked like disappointment. Shane stepped down from the dais with what appeared to be a chastising look over his shoulder at his father and brother, and offered his hand to me.

“Thank you,” he said as I took his wrist in what I hoped I correctly remembered was a friendly greeting. It had been a long time since I had lessons in Shantel etiquette.

He had shadows under his eyes, and when he mirrored my grip and pulled me forward to hug me, I could feel the exhaustion in his body. He explained, “Our land has been barred from all visitors since we heard about the bounty that Midnight is offering for our people. We have been discussing different options, and the sakkri told us to wait here for her final decision this morning, but I …” His voice broke for a moment, and his gaze flickered away from mine. “We did not realize she intended to bring you. That is why your visit is a surprise.”

“I can honestly say we wish we did not need to involve you,” Laurence said.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Vance remarked, “and yet you seem determined to do it.”

Shane turned toward the quetzal with fury in his gaze. He did not offer his hand to Vance but retreated to the dais with tense steps.

“You two act like you are the put-upon party,” Lucas snapped, grasping Shane’s shoulder as he passed. Shane
shook off his brother’s grip and returned to pacing. “Believe me when I say you are the last two people I would ever have chosen to help us. You are—”

“They are the ones the sakkri sent,” Laurence interrupted his son. “Recall what we were told. They are not as guilty as circumstances make them appear.”

“
She
might not be,” Lucas cut in, gesturing to me, “but what about
him
?”

“Shut up, both of you!” Shane snapped, his voice cracking on the second word. “You would bicker until this forest
burns
.” Shane turned to us again and cut to the point with no regard for authority or protocol. “We need you to deliver a message to Midnight. More specifically, we need you to make a deal.”

I had guessed this was coming, but I still didn’t understand. “Why
now
?” I asked. “It’s been four months.”

Lucas drew himself up, pulling in a long, slow breath as if to compose himself. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with frustration, but he was at least no longer snarling in anger. “Midnight wouldn’t even tell us the extent of our supposed crime,” he said. “They said slaves had been killed, and that we were responsible, and they demanded payment. For weeks, we exchanged offers, incentives … threats. We insisted that we had no part in the exile’s actions. For over a month, we bickered, before the sakkri divined the truth, that the vampires themselves had been threatened. She says the trainers were nearly killed?”

He sounded incredulous. I had seen it and still barely believed it, but I nodded.

“When we realized they would not accept our protestations of innocence, we offered payment in coin and goods well beyond the value Midnight assigns the slaves. It would have indebted us for a decade, easily.”

Unlike the serpiente and avians, who had come to this land as refugees, utterly dependent at first on the vampires for food and shelter, the Shantel had occupied this land centuries before the vampires had arrived to build their monstrous empire. They had never been forced into the crippling spiral of debt that held the other shapeshifters hostage generation after generation.

“And in reply,” Vance said, “they cut off your trade and offered the bounty on your people.”

“Our last messenger never returned,” Laurence said. “We waited weeks and heard
nothing
. Then, about a week ago, one of Midnight’s mercenaries delivered a message. Since we have failed to offer acceptable payment … they intend to burn the forest.” His voice at the end was small, as if he were saying something obscene. To him, it probably was. Even I was shocked.

Once again, Vance and I spoke over each other, but this time it was clear our minds were traveling completely different paths.

I gasped. “Is that
possible
?” I asked at the same moment that Vance asked, “What are you offering?”

I turned toward him, startled by his words and even more startled by his tone. I knew that look, that posture, that voice, and it wasn’t one he had picked up among the Obsidian guild. The conversation hadn’t been much different when Malachi had negotiated with a mercenary from Midnight regarding Misha’s return.

Shane stepped forward, swallowed, and then said in a clear voice, “It’s possible. You being here means the sakkri decided the danger is real, and that we must deal or risk far worse. So … I’m what we’re offering.”

“Shane,” Lucas whispered, a single word that seemed full of heartbreak.

But you’re so young
, I thought.

How young, or old, is fifteen years? Vance and I were both outlaws already. Vance was still only fourteen, but he had seen people beaten, seen them die; he had inadvertently caused dozens of deaths. I had taken a life with my own hands when I was only twelve. We had both known terror beyond anything a child was supposed to know, and were treated as adults by our kin in the Obsidian guild.

But all I could think about when I looked at Shane was the boy who had played a harp and sung to me as the fleshwitch’s spells and potions rearranged the very fiber of my being, twisting my innards in an ongoing attempt to shove unwilling muscle and sinew into a sleek serpent form. The witch, the Shantel’s version of a doctor, had been convinced that if they could just help me change shape once, everything
else would fall into place and my symptoms would subside.

I couldn’t speak, but Vance could and did. “What else?” he asked bluntly. “When Midnight thought the Azteka were guilty, they demanded one healthy shapeshifter for each dead slave, or one bloodwitch for every ten. In the end, there were over twenty dead—and that’s
without
factoring in the price of rebellion itself, including an attempt on the lives of Mistress Jeshickah and her trainers. They won’t accept one younger prince for the full price, especially after so much time has passed.”

“You sound like one of them,” Lucas said bitterly.

“That’s why we’re
here
, isn’t it?” Vance snapped in reply. It was, obviously, which meant I had to let Vance speak even if it gave me chills to hear him talking like a mercenary.

“They have already executed the witch responsible for the crime,” Laurence asserted. “A witch whose actions were not even condoned by the Family. And though I hate to admit it, I fear they have probably taken Amber—our messenger—as well. They can’t …” He trailed off, unable to complete the statement, which he had to know was so optimistically naive:
They can’t possibly ask for more than this
.

“His actions were condoned by the sakkri,” I said, trying to remember that these people before me—especially the young man so close to my own age—were not entirely innocent. They feigned ignorance, but they were the rulers of this realm. An attempt to assassinate the leaders of
Midnight could only have been made with their consent, or if they turned a blind eye to it.

Of course, if the plan had worked, they wouldn’t have been considered culpable; they would have been hailed as heroes. Did that make them martyrs now?

Shane sat at the edge of the dais. He didn’t look up, didn’t meet anyone’s gaze as he spoke.

“Everyone knows Midnight is seeking slaves with magic,” he said flatly. “I personally have little magical training, but every Shantel has the same potential for power regardless of bloodline. It doesn’t need to be awakened with obscure rituals like the Azteka. That makes me more valuable than any bloodwitch.”

Except for the few hitches in his voice, he made the speech coldly, stating facts that he had obviously considered carefully. His brother looked away, as if he could not stand to keep his gaze on the young man who had so coldly assessed his own value and prepared to sacrifice himself.

“Just out of curiosity,” I asked, “did you three draw straws? Or was it just the younger son’s lot to sell himself to slavery?”

“I made the decision,” Shane said.

“I offered myself,” Laurence said, “but Shane rightly pointed out that Midnight is unlikely to accept a man past his prime, whose ruling power has already passed to his son. I cannot do the value assessment as rationally as my son, but I do know that one broken-down king will not
make Midnight’s
point
. Equal value is the excuse. The truth is they want us to hurt.”

“What’s your excuse?” Vance asked Lucas.

The prince flinched. “The sakkri will not allow it.”

“Which one?” I wondered aloud, recalling the way the two women had argued in front of us.

I hadn’t intended to offend anyone—this time—but the three men reacted as if I had slapped one of them. It was Shane who finally bit out, “The sakkri speaks with one voice. Her power passes from one mortal body to the next as she meets the needs of each generation, but there is only one.”

“There are clearly two.”
Stupid
, I chastised myself for being so tactless. They were obviously describing something mystical, and my words were apparently heresy … but if the women were
arguing
with each other, they were clearly not “one voice.”

“The sakkri may live for centuries, but she is born as a helpless infant, as we all are,” Laurence said, with the same long-suffering tone I remembered from frustrated teachers in the serpiente dancer’s nest. “She must come of age before her full power manifests. We are at a cusp right now, as the sakkri’s new form has just come into her power, but her old form has not yet returned to the forest.”

I decided it was time to stop asking questions, though I had a few, like what happened to the older sakkri once the younger one was ready to take over, and more importantly,
whether or not they agreed on Shane’s plan. I didn’t think they did.

I didn’t think
I
did.

Midnight would value Shane’s pretty face, but not the mind and heart that had prompted him to sit for hours with a hurting little girl. Everyone else had argued with me,
telling
me not to be afraid. That I was fine and safe. Shane had known better. His instincts had told him that I needed a friend, but wasn’t able to tolerate one yet.

“If you are all in agreement about this deal,” I asked, “why do you need us?”

“We need a neutral party to negotiate for us,” Lucas explained. “If Shane goes to propose this deal, they could claim him as they did Amber and still demand more, and he would have no leverage with which to barter. If you speak for us, Midnight will need to agree to terms before …”

“Before it can get its hands on the merchandise,” Vance concluded, when Lucas’s voice hitched and silenced. “So what do we get?”

“Vance!” I protested. His earlier words had been blunt but practical, regarding what Midnight would or wouldn’t accept from the Shantel. This was going too far.

“They want us to go to Midnight proper for them,” Vance snapped at me, and for the first time, I saw the genuine fury in his eyes. I heard an echo of the words he had spoken to me the day before:
I could even stand to face the market, because Midnight didn’t have any power over me anymore
.
I was annoyed with the Shantel, but I couldn’t help responding to their desperate situation. Vance was terrified, and that made him angry. “They want us to make a deal. Mercenaries don’t work for free, so if that’s what they want to turn us into, I want to know what’s in it for us.”

“Excuse me,” Shane whispered, his composure finally breaking. As he turned, walking swiftly from the room, he said, “I’ve done my part. My father and brother can see to the details.”

The door slammed behind him.