38. The Unsafehouse (Gadarien)¶
Gadarien watched in silence as Jovadão worked, quickly feeling along Vaye’s meridians with one hand and placing thorns with the other. It was still hard to fathom that Jovadão had actually been a Feiçeira all along, that the one person more reviled than the Vorkyrda had never really been a traitor. For years the man had endured the vitriol of his community, never cracking, never revealing his true loyalties, even while doing the bidding of his enemies. The discipline it had taken to endure all of that was truly beyond belief.
Vaye’s breathing finally stabilized, and they opened her tunic to access the meridians along her torso. Gadarien tried his best to shield her body from the leering Ruelso. This was no time for jealousy, but he couldn’t help how he felt. And that, of course, was the heart of his problem.
He didn’t know what Vaye had done that had resulted in Adranaya’s arrest, but he couldn’t lay the blame on her. Neither Vaye nor Adranaya would have been involved in any of this if it hadn’t been for him. Recruiting someone was supposed to mean giving them the choice of how deeply to get involved, but he hadn’t gotten to that point. Which meant that they were both civilians, and that he was responsible for them.
At last, Jovadão relaxed, sitting back on his heels and wiping the sweat off his bald head. “I put her in a rapid-healing state. It will consume a lot of energy, but she’ll survive. Someone should drip water into her mouth, though.”
Teira nodded and ordered one of the Feiçeira to fetch water and prepare food for when Vaye awoke. “Okay,” said the Guiasa. “Tell me what happened.”
Gadarien looked around, the faces of the dead seeming to stare back at him from the gaps between his compatriots. Less than half the cell had survived the raid. Had the attack somehow been his fault? Had he slipped up and led the Sihiri to them?
“They came for me this morning,” he began. “I heard them and escaped, but I didn’t know where to go. I was cut off.” He failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice, the grinding loneliness he had felt, but Jovadão’s presence reminded him that he’d only endured a tiny fraction of what the commander had gone through. “An alarm went off while I was trying to decide on a plan,” he finished lamely.
Jovadão nodded. “Someone broke into Yobaza’s office. Fortunately, I had arranged to be notified first, and I was able to organize the response myself.”
Gadarien glanced at Vaye’s sleeping form. What had she been up to? But Teira was squinting at him, studying his face. Her grief was written in the dark circles under her eyes, the channels worn away by loss. “I saw what happened to Eiadane,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Teira reached up and gently laid two fingers on his throat in blessing. He felt his shoulders relax and saw the tension disappear in the posture of the other Feiçeira. Most of them, at least.
“How can we trust him?” Ruelso said. “The one who wasn’t here. The one in a perfect position to betray us.” His voice broke, and Gadarien realized that it was grief that animated the man, sorrow that had spoiled and turned to anger. That understanding made Ruelso’s accusation seem less like a threat and more like a symptom, to be pitied as much as feared.
“Be careful who you accuse, Ruelso,” said Jovadão, his tone dangerously relaxed. Ruelso was no match for him and everyone knew it. Gadarien had despised Jovadão, but had nevertheless acknowledged his prodigious skill. Now that he understood what the man had truly done, that respect was quickly veering toward awe.
“I’m confident that Gadarien wasn’t responsible for the leak,” said Teira with a tone of finality. “And fighting amongst ourselves only serves our enemies.” Ruelso choked down his pride like a snake swallowing a mouse. He nodded to the Guiasa and sat on a crate, arms folded, but Gadarien knew he hadn’t heard the last of Ruelso’s spite.
“Now,” Teira said, “we need to figure out what to do about Gadarien’s captured friend and how it will affect the next phase.”
“Next phase?” Gadarien said, surprised. “The plan is still on?”
“I told you sacrifices would have to be made,” Teira said. “If we give up now, those we’ve lost will be silenced forever. But I need to know if there was anything you told... what was her name, again?”
“Adranaya,” Gadarien said, irritated at Teira’s use of the past tense. “Her name is Adranaya.”
“Adranaya, of course,” Teira replied, and Gadarien cursed inwardly. She had obviously remembered Adranaya’s name, but had maneuvered him into displaying his emotions yet again, this time with an audience. “Did you reveal anything to her, anything at all, that might compromise the plan?”
“It would be easier for me to tell you that if I knew what the plan was,” Gadarien said, fighting to keep his cool.
Jovadão chuckled. “In your position, I would want the same. But it’s still safer to maintain separation of knowledge.”
Gadarien nodded glumly, knowing Jovadão wasn’t belittling him. Even while working for the Helix, such childishness had always been beneath the man. “Understood.”
“Try to remember,” Teira said. “Was there anything you might have said, or anything she might have picked up on, that would give them a clue about what we were planning? Locations, timing, anything? Use the listening trance, focus on your mission.”
Gadarien nodded and took a deep breath, attuning the soundscape and calming himself. He listened deeply to the guttering of the oil lamps. The creak of the boxes as people shifted in their seats. Vaye murmuring softly in her sleep. In the corner, some tiny creature trying to scratch its way into their stores. He followed the thread of memory, recalling the moments of his relationship with Adranaya. The meals they had shared, their lovemaking, their lighthearted arguments about culture and music and food. The moments he had opened himself up to her, just as she had revealed herself to him.
“No,” he said. “I can’t think of anything. Except...” With a sinking feeling, he thought of one particular night, and the blood drained from his face.
“Except?” Teira prodded.
“The night I took the measurements in the Hall of Vapors,” he said, his voice shaky. “When I went back to my cell, she was there. She couldn’t sleep and wanted me to, uh, help her relax.” A sharp look from Teira put an end to Ruelso’s snickering. “I hadn’t had a chance to bathe. She smelled the Hall on me and asked where I’d been. I don’t remember what I told her, but if they dig into her memories...” He looked up at Teira, stricken. “I’m sorry, Guiasa. I didn’t think it mattered.”
Teira sighed, pressing her lips together, and Jovadão inhaled deeply, placing his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. “Well,” Teira said, “that makes this an easy decision.”
“Makes what an easy decision?” said a scratchy voice from the corner.
Gadarien spun to see Vaye sitting up and clutching her throat, a bleary expression on her face. No one had expected her to be awake. “Thirsty,” she croaked.
Gadarien rushed over and handed her a water skin, which she drank from greedily. “You’re awake,” he said unhelpfully.
She smacked her lips and closed her eyes, then immediately opened them again with a crazed look. “I’m so fucking hungry.”
Jovadão handed her a loaf of bread and she tore into it like a starving dog. “Slow down, you’ll choke,” he said, reaching for the loaf. She jerked it away from him, almost snarling. Jovadão whistled, holding both hands up in mock surrender.
“I thought she wasn’t supposed to wake up for a few hours,” said Teira, staring down at Vaye with her hands on her hips.
“She wasn’t,” Jovadão replied. He rubbed his jaw and leaned forward to study Vaye as though she were a specimen in a laboratory. She glared back at him, chewing angrily.
“What are you talking about?” Vaye said around a mouthful of bread. Teira and Jovadão exchanged a look that Gadarien couldn’t interpret.
“Vaye,” Jovadão said slowly, crouching at her side. “Let me see your arm.” She held it out and he gingerly lifted the bandage, then froze, glancing up at Teira with pursed lips. When he unwrapped it the rest of the way, her forearm was fully healed, a pale gray scar the only sign of her wound.
“How long was I out?” the Anashi said, turning her arm back and forth in wonder.
“Nowhere near long enough for that,” Jovadão said. He rose and shook out his legs, his knees popping.
“Weird,” Vaye whispered, moving her hand in circles and staring at the pearly scrawl of scar tissue. “Must have been one of the gifts.”
“A gift?” Teira asked. “From whom?”
“Grandmother,” Vaye said absently. She noticed the silence that followed her remark and looked up, realization dawning on her as she clapped her hand over her mouth.
“This settles it,” Teira said. “The Deucanta have made their song clear. She’s coming with you.”
“Coming with who?” Vaye said, her eyes wide.
“With Jovadão and Gadarien. To rescue your friend from the House of Breezes.”
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