I grunted and you must have taken that as a yes, because you released me, then backed up against the ladder so that you were physically blocking me from reaching it. I paced back and forth through the rank water and considered my next move.
“Too bad Lucian isn’t around,” you said.
“Thanks for rubbing it in,” I snapped. You looked wounded, but I didn’t care. How dare you go behind my back like this? And what happened to serving me? I wished my mudra was half as good as Lucian’s, but the most I could force you to do was look at me, which you already were, tracking me like a hunter. I could attempt a compulsion, but there was no part of you uncovered, and it would be completely obvious if I took off my gloves and asked you to do the same.
“Hyas agreed to this?” I needed to know exactly who was to blame.
“He did.”
“Whose idea was it?”
You hesitated. “Mine.”
“I see.”
And then I got an idea. As if knowing I was plotting, your demeanor changed, and you stood at attention. “What are you planning?” you asked in a voice threaded with apprehension.
I sauntered up to you, all up in your personal space. “In that warborn tent, I told you I wanted to be the first face my father sees, and everyone agreed, including you. And now you’re telling me that you and Hyas cut a deal behind my back, and on whose authority? Surely not mine. Am I a leader in this revolution or not, Henri?”
“You are,” you said, only a little chastened. “You know that you are.”
“To say I’m disappointed in you is an understatement. And what about trust and loyalty and your oath to serve me…” I kept talking, distracting you, while I rooted around in my tackle pouch, feeling only a little bad for what I was about to do. “And that’s why I have to do this, Henri, because you’re not the boss of me and neither is Hyas.”
I held up my cannister of sleeping gas, already activated, and replaced my gas mask. You’d been breathing it in while I spoke, and the effects were already making you drowsy.
“Damnit,” you rumbled. I wrapped my arms around your midsection in order to brace your fall. After I’d eased you to a sitting position, I grabbed for the stairs, climbing as fast as I could to catch up with the others.
When I emerged from the manhole, I was in what looked like a dormitory bathroom with shower stalls and toilets. There were a couple of soldiers laid on their sides on the tile floor with their wrists bound behind their backs. Outside the bathrooms, I recognized the labyrinth of corridors only enough to know that I’d been here before—my last interrogation where I’d killed my father and tore out my own eyes. They’d probably taken me to the hospital here, though I could hardly recall it.
Over my radio, Hyas gave orders while the seaborn updated the group on what they’d found. Comms were down already. A moment later, the power went out as well, dashing the entire building into darkness.
I switched on my headlamp and followed the corridor until I came upon an open door where the lock had been melted. I passed through it to find a few seaborn farther down the hall jailbreaking prison cells with a blowtorch. They weren’t at all surprised to see me, which meant the arrangement had been between you and Hyas alone.
“Have you found him?” I asked.
“Not yet, your highness.”
To be sure, I inspected the rooms they’d already unlocked. Two men and a woman, all of them unconscious. I wondered what the seaborn would do with the human prisoners once we’d overtaken the compound. How would they possibly be able to return to their lives after such an experience?
Then I heard the seaborn calling for me, and I knew they’d found him. I raced around the corner and burst into the room. Papa was lying on his side, so frail that he looked like a living corpse. I pressed two fingers against his wrist and listened for his heartbeat, weak but steady. On his forearm was the double-diamond brand, which matched my own. I’d murder that goddamned Angel of Death myself.
“Face mask,” I said to the seaborn, who then offered me a spare. I affixed it to my father’s face and activated the oxygen, not knowing how long it might take for the effects of the sleeping gas to wear off. “Find me a wheelchair so we can get him out of here.” How would we get him through the sewers in his condition?
“I’ll carry him if you’ll come with me.” I glanced up to see that you’d joined us in the room. Your face was unreadable. The mask helped with that.
“Let’s go.” I wanted Papa out of there.
You lifted him gently, and I followed you out of the cell, shuddering on my way out because it looked exactly like the box I’d been kept in for months.
“How’d you get up here?” I asked. The others who’d been gassed were just starting to rouse.
“The ladder,” you said shortly, knowing that’s not what I’d meant. No doubt you were pissed at me. I’d deal with your attitude later. For now, I didn’t need to know the details.
Once we reached said ladder, we had to strap Papa to your chest. He was so weak that I worried we might break his bones in the process.
“Be careful,” I said to the seaborn who was manipulating the ropes into a harness.
“Seaborn know how to tie knots,” she said smartly.
