133. Kesra
“She told you part of the truth, as far as I can tell,” Mak told me an hour later. “She knew pretty much everything that was going on, but it really was Tarkarran’s operation, from beginning to end. She supplied the resources, but he ran it. And I don’t think she knew that the Spurs were Tekereteki, but she probably suspected it. Of course, I have no idea just how good of a liar she is. If she can defeat my own ability to read intentions…” she shrugged. “I can’t detect lies directly. I can only tell if someone is trying to deceive me.”
“Did you learn anything else?”
“She was surprisingly willing to talk about her advancements, in general terms. I might have been able to get some details out of her if I’d been willing to start breaking things, but doing that in front of Kira…” She scowled. “Anyway, nothing surprising. She’s a bit like Ardek, but much stronger. Makes people like her and want her to like them. I can only assume that’s why her people are so loyal. Some minor fighting and health related advancements, too, but that’s her major.
“Besides that, she’s very protective of her sister, but we already knew that. It’s the only reason she’s here, right? At one point I offered to hand her over to the justices if she’d confess to her crimes, and she outright told me that she won’t do anything that might lead to Kesra ending up destitute.”
“That makes sense. However awful a person she is, those two love each other. Kesra was ready to die rather than give me anything that might hurt her sister, and Zabra’s the same. If Zabra had a massive fine against her I have no doubt Kesra would rather pay it than let her get indentured.”
Mak frowned. “I think everything Zabra’s become started with protecting her sister. I hate having anything in common with the woman, but I can understand that, at least.”
“How’s Kira doing?”
“Upset, of course. She’s thankful that I never actually touched the woman in front of her, but I can’t hold back much longer and she knows it.” She looked away, her mouth quirking up as she said, “Kira may have gotten me to promise to bring her down once I’m done. You know how she is. It’s hard to deny her anything when she’s clearly hurting.”
“It’s the way she looks at you, right? Like she blames herself.”
“Right! I used to second guess myself about her. Wondering if maybe she lied about her advancements. But she’s just so… docile, most of the time. If she had the advancements to deceive me I’d expect her to have tried something by now. I honestly think that she’s just a good person, and she so rarely asks for anything that when she does it’s impossible to deny her.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I stayed silent for a while, then switched to Tekereteki and asked, “Are you sure about letting her go?”
“If possible, as much as I hate the idea. If we could make sure that none of her people would suddenly stab Herald in the market… but, no. And there are her people outside. No telling what they will do if she does not come out. We need to try to extract something binding from her, though. If we cannot be sure that she will leave us alone and stay on the right side of the law once we release her… Do you think that you can do to her what you did to Jekrie?”
“Let us see, shall we?”
Zabra’s cell was dark. Kira must have taken the lantern with her. Zabra was back in the corner, dressed and bound and gagged again, and she looked up, trying to look at us in the infinitesimal light that came in through the open door before Mak closed it behind us, plunging the room into absolute darkness.
“Haga?” she mumbled through the ball of cloth filling her mouth. I took the few steps needed to bring my face close to hers, letting her feel my presence before I spoke.
“This will not be a conversation. I don’t intend to ask you any questions, so you don’t need to be able to speak. What I need from you is to think. To understand what I am, and what I can do, and what that means for you. Who you’ve made an enemy of.”
The smell of fear got stronger even before I wrapped her in shadows. I left her like that as I continued. “We still haven’t decided what to do with you. Slit your throat, drop you five thousand feet into the sea, release you once we feel that the score is even… I don’t know. Perhaps we’ll simply decide not to heal you one day, and let your busted insides do the rest. There’s a lot of factors, you know? But if we do decide that you’re not worth killing, understand this: There is nowhere I can’t go. No lock or guard that can keep me out. And there is no way to hide from me, not for long. Ask your sister, if you see her again. So if we do decide to let you live, you will be doing so on sufferance, until and unless you become a problem again.”
I released my shadows, and Zabra slumped forward, her face contorted with fear and anger as she gasped for breath.
“Think about that,” I told her, and left. Mak looked as though she considered staying, but followed me.
The next morning I went to talk to Zabra again, to try to instill in her just how careful she should be not to provoke me if we should happen to let her live. Mak must have returned, because Zabra had fresh bruises, half healed, and I could smell blood that had spattered the walls and floor. I wrapped her in shadow and monologued at her, though this time I found myself almost using her for therapy. I told her just how much it had hurt that they had used Herald to turn Mak against me, and how angry I was about the damage that had done to Mak’s and my relationship. I told her how I wished that everything could just go back to the way it had been before, when things had been simple. But that was impossible, now, and it was all her fault.
“At some point,” I told her after I’d released her, “I think I’m going to take off that gag, and I’m going to let you make your case for why we should let you live. And I want you to think very carefully about what to say, because I promise that I’ll listen.”
I wasn’t going to tell her that we were probably going to release her anyway. I wanted her to think. I didn’t want her zoning out and just letting time pass. The way I saw it, the more she was aware of her situation, the more she thought about what had brought her there, the better. I didn’t know if we could reform her, or anything, but I wanted her scared enough to either give us an excuse to end her, or for her to never dare touch us again.
Or break her. She was tough. Most people would have broken several times over already. But we had time, and if I could break her, that would be fine, too.
I spent much of that day talking to the others about how to handle the meeting with the lady justice Sempralia the next day. The damn archer was still out there, probably. Herald wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that her one shot had killed the bastard, not in a world with magical healing and potions. The meeting place was by the coast south of the city, with the closest tree being hundreds of feet away, but it paid to keep them in mind.
Mostly our conclusions came down to: we didn’t know what she wanted. I would be polite, promise not to damage the city and its law-abiding citizens, and be open to any offers. And I was not to lie. They were very clear about that. Better to say that I didn’t want to answer, than to lie or be evasive. And I should probably not admit that we were keeping the lady Tespril Zabra in our cellar, no matter how guilty we knew, and Sempralia might suspect, that she was.
I thought that the day would slowly wind down after that. I was having a rather nice conversation with Kira about her life before she gained her healing when Ardek came down, his whole face alight with excitement, like he was expecting a grand show.
“The sister!” he exclaimed. “The Blossom’s sister is here, and she is in a state! Makanna and Herald are bringing her down!”
I saw Kira take a second or two to translate what Ardek had said, and her eyes widened as she whispered, “Oh, no!” She turned to me, speaking quickly. “Please, Draka! Let me see Zabra before her sister does! I did what I could last night, but—”
I interrupted her. “Sorry, no. I’m not letting you in there alone, and there’s no one I trust to accompany you who won’t be busy. Sorry, but she gets in people’s head too easily. You can look over Zabra once we’re all in there, if it comes to that.”
I got up and herded them into the main cellar. In the warm glow of two lightstones I found that Herald and Mak were there already, sitting on the bench, one on each side of Kesra. And Kesra was, as Ardek had put it, in a state. She had on a simple cinched tunic, riding boots, and a hooded riding cape, and was spattered with mud up to the knees. It must have rained, I thought idly as she raised her face from her hands and looked at me with fear and anger.
“You!” she choked out, her voice trembling so hard that she stuttered. “Where— where is she? Where’s my sister?”
“Ardek,” I said, ignoring her. “Go upstairs and make sure that we won’t be disturbed.” He acknowledged me with a nod and disappeared up the stairs as I approached Kesra. I didn’t answer her until I was only a few feet away. “Hello, Kesra. What makes you so sure that Zabra is here?”
“Har— Hardal told me! They tried to keep it from me, but he finally told me she went here! I want to see her!”
I wondered why he would have sent his employer’s only living relative, as far as I knew, into the arms of her enemies, but that was a question for a different day. “If she came here,” I said, getting closer. “What makes you think that we’ve kept her around?”
Horror slowly spread across her face as my implication registered. “No,” she whispered. “First Tark, and now… please, no!”
A little bit of shame wormed its way into me at her stricken expression. I was considering what to say when Herald took Kesra’s jaw in one hand and turned her head to face her. “Tark? Are you torn up about Parvion Tarkarran? What could there possibly be about that animal to grieve?”
Whatever Kesra was feeling in that moment, Herald’s near snarl had her trying to get off the bench and away, but Mak’s hand on her shoulder kept her down.
“Go on,” I said, and Kesra’s eyes turned to me. “Explain why we should feel any sympathy for your loss.”
Fear and shock compelled her to answer. “He— he saved us. He got us out of the…”
“The brothel?” Mak completed for her.
“That, yes. He got us out, helped Zabra buy her first business, backed us for years. He’s been so selfless, so—”
Mak cut her off with a barking laugh. “Selfless? You think—?” I expected her to go on and explain just what kind of picture Zabra had painted of the man, but then Herald cut her off.
“Kind?” Herald’s hiss cut through the room. Mak went silent, and I saw Kesra’s breath catch as Herald rose to stand in front of her, teeth bared and jerkily undoing the sash cinching her tunic. “I’ll show you how kind your savior was to me!”
Even magical healing was not perfect. Whether healed naturally, through magic like Mak’s and Kira’s or through potions, wounds still left scars. I’d seen that first hand with Garal on one of my first days on Mallin, and many times since with my friends. The scars faded with time, of course, but when Herald angrily tore her tunic over her head and threw it to the floor, hers still stood out starkly. Dozens of dark lines marred her brown skin. Long and short, alone or in clusters, they showed every cut and stab that had been inflicted on her at Tark’s hands to force Mak’s cooperation. I’d seen them before, many times, but it didn’t matter. Even his death did nothing to soothe the rage I felt at the man every single time I saw them.
Grabbing a lightstone from where it sat on the floor, Herald changed it to a bright, nearly natural light, then went back to where Kesra sat stunned on the bench. “Here,” Herald said, and before Kesra had a chance to flinch, Herald had a fist bunched in her hair. Kesra yelped in protest, her hands going to Herald’s wrist, but she didn’t stand a chance. “Take a good look. When I met your precious Tark, this was all smooth skin. It took him four days to give me these, or so they tell me. It took so many health potions to keep me alive that I don’t remember much, besides the pain and the fear. So excuse me—” she released Kesra’s hair with a jerk into the shelves behind her. “—if I don’t feel bad for your loss!”
That was quite enough for me. “Herald!” I said sharply, putting an arm around her waist and gently pulling her back, just in case she wasn’t quite finished. “She is either willfully blind or horribly naive, but I really don’t think she’s involved in… anything, really. Gods know you deserve to be angry, but she’s not the right target.”
“No, she is not, is she?” Herald fumed, not resisting me. “How about we take her to the one who is?” She shared a look with Mak that I couldn’t decipher, and Mak nodded.
“Are you two keeping secrets from me?” I asked in Tekereteki.
“Not really,” Mak answered. “It was a spur of the moment idea. And it is nothing you will not approve of. Think of it as a surprise.”
Kesra rubbed her head, looking between us as we spoke in a language she couldn’t understand, then replied to the part she could. “So you do have her? You’ll take me to her?”
“I suppose so,” I said. “In a moment. Mak, take Kira, and let her have a look at our guest. Let me know when you’re done.”
Kesra spent the ten minute wait anxiously pleading with Herald and me to take her to her sister now, to tell her what was going on and why we were holding her, or to just let her go. She offered us money, favors, and to take her sister’s place. I barely answered. Herald was completely silent. She had thrown her tunic back on and curled up against me, and I was focused on soothing the anger that Kesra’s ignorant words had woken in her.
I hadn’t used to think of Herald as an angry or naturally violent person, but that had been changing during the previous month or two. She’d always found it easy to get excited in combat, but lately it had seemed like fighting and killing was becoming her preferred solution to a lot of problems, whether she acted on it or not. I’d been calling her my little dragon as an endearment, but she was starting to really live up to the epithet.
I wondered, again, how much, if any, of that was my doing.
Finally Kesra resorted to threats. Or perhaps a warning. “Hardal is out there, with a lot of Zabra’s men,” she said. “He said that if I don’t come out soon and tell him that Zabra is alive, they’re burning this place down with everyone in it.”
That made me take notice, but I just told her to be patient.
I looked up when Kira came back. “She is… presentable. I’ve healed most of what Makanna inflicted on her,” she said, her voice more judgmental than I could remember ever hearing from her.
“What did she say?” Kesra asked almost immediately. “Can I see her now?”
“Yes, fine,” I said, and Herald reluctantly got up as I shifted around beneath her. “This way.”
I showed her into the improvised cell, and when she saw her sister kneeling on the floor, bound and gagged, her clothes a ripped and bloodstained mess, she fell to her knees and burst into tears. Zabra looked at us accusingly, but she couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes.
“Zabra! Oh, Zabra, what have they done to you?” Kesra crawled forward and carefully embraced her sister, who made soothing noises through her gag. “Can I at least talk to her?” Kesra spat, turning and somehow mustering up an angry glare to fix me with.
“Take her gag out, if you want.” The words were barely out of my mouth before Kesra was working on the knot behind her sister’s head.
“Kes,” Zabra coughed as the wad of cloth came out. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t… What are you doing here? What possessed you—”
“What are you doing here!? What?” Kesra shot back angrily, switching to Barlean all of a sudden and pushing her sister back by the shoulders. For a moment I thought I saw Kesra’s arm twitch and Zabra flinch back from her, with something like a flash of fear. It was there and gone again so fast that I decided I must have imagined it. “Do you know how worried I’ve been, do you? How scared? What could have possessed you—?”
“I’m sorry, I am! They were going to hurt you! I couldn't— I couldn't let them. I had to do something, I had to!”
“Very touching. Very,” Mak said in passable Barlean while grabbing Kesra under the arms and bodily hauling her back, leaving her with Herald as she protested. She switched back to Karakani, probably for Herald’s benefit. “But let’s all of us have a conversation. Together.”
“Why are you putting my sister through this?” Zabra asked bitterly. “It’s not enough for you to…” she glanced at her sister and clearly changed what she’d been about to say. “...to keep me here?”
“Your sister came here on her own. She wanted to see you,” Mak said, and turned to Herald, giving her another of those looks I couldn’t read. “Hold her there, please.”
“What?” Kesra said, just as Herald wrapped her arms around the much shorter woman. I wondered just what was going on. Then it became clear, and I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or horrified.
“I want your full attention, Zabra,” Mak said. She took a small pouch from beside the door where she’d left it when we came in, squatting in front of the prisoner. From the pouch she carefully took out a potion bottle, which she placed on the floor between them. Zabra’s eyes went wide as Mak continued, “I’m going to make you an offer. Your cooperation—”
“No. Please!” Zabra whispered.
“—in exchange for that potion.”
“What is this?” Kesra asked, looking from Zabra to me, then trying to look up at Herald, who had her eyes firmly fixed on Zabra.
“Please,” Zabra said, and for the first time I saw tears in her eyes. “Ask me for anything. Anything at all. Just don’t do this.”
“Anything?” Mak asked, a dangerous edge to her voice as she produced a long, thin dagger from her belt.
“Anything!”
“Then tell your sister why you’re so fucking terrified of a simple healing potion!”
“I…”
Mak turned to look at Kesra, then stood, testing the point of the dagger. Kesra’s eyes went wide and she started to squirm in Herald’s grip. “No! Please, no! I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I haven’t— Hardal will—!”
“Draka,” Mak said in Tekereteki as Kesra started to beg, and Zabra sat mute with wild-eyed indecision. “We are not going to hurt the girl. But if her sister does not break in the next few seconds, could you blind her with your shadows?”
“Yeah, sure.” I hadn’t wanted to intervene, but using Kesra like Herald had been used? That was too much. Too far. I couldn’t let my sisters do that to her, or to themselves. I’d fought too hard to not let myself become a monster to let them slip down that path instead. Mak’s words, letting me know that it was all theater, was an enormous relief.
It was damned effective, though.