CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

Three more days and he still hadn’t attempted an escape. Was Andeal right? Did it prove he could not decide where to go, or who he was? Nonsense. He was Captain Hans Vermen, proud defender of his country…and a deserter? He rubbed his arm, as though he could remove an invisible layer of dirt. Andeal must be lying. They had said no such things. Lungvist would’ve told them it was impossible, he would not desert. If he returned now, would they give him a chance to explain? He’d gathered more information on the rebels by following Seraphin than anybody in years. It had to count for something. If he could escape, they would crush the ragtag band and end this ridiculous threat. If he could escape.

Andeal had implied it wouldn’t be so hard. And the longer he waited, the less suspicious they’d become. He could stay, observe, gather information.

Stall.

He had their location. What else did he really need?

Vermen straightened up and slid off his tiny mattress. He could not remain here another minute. He had a rebellion to squash and a reputation to retrieve. The captain stretched his muscles and approached the door. He reached for the handle but as his fingers closed around the wood, the chain outside rattled. Vermen’s heart jumped and he backpedalled as the door opened.

Andeal’s wife stood in the opening with his meal. Although he had never met her, half of his blue companion’s chatter was about his oh-so-wonderful wife and he had no trouble identifying Maniel. Her dark skin had no hint of blue in it. Nothing strange in her dark hair’s long braid either. She wore a dark orange robe, black leggings, and knee-high boots. He could not find a single unnatural thing about her. Somehow, he had expected her to be just as weird as Andeal. Vermen averted his eyes, ashamed of his ridiculous assumption.

She stared at him until he stepped further back, then set the plate on his desk. Did not say a word as she turned back to the door. Vermen’s heart pumped faster. No. She couldn’t leave him like that. He hadn’t had any news in the last…three days? He wasn’t even certain of that anymore. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her forearm.

“Wait!”

She turned around in slow, uncaring movement. Her high cheeks and thin smile formed a perfect mask of disdain.

“Yes?”

“Where’s Andeal?” His voice shook. He cursed himself and wrestled control over it. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing.” Maniel lowered her gaze to his hand and he let go. She brushed her arm off before crossing them. “Except for the part where you bruised his entire back and left clear strangle marks on his neck. He will not return if I can help it.”

Vermen’s stomach tightened but he refused to let it show. He lifted his chin in defiance. It was for the best, really. Until now he hadn’t realised how much he relied on Andeal to keep track of time and entertain himself. He needed to find another way, to depend only on himself. Maniel continued with a resolute calm that clashed with Andeal’s mirth.

“If it were up to me, you would be in a small and cold cave. Alone.”

“Well, we don’t always get what we want.”

“I haven’t tried yet, captain. Do you wish me to?”

Their gazes locked and he held her stare. Did he want to be transferred to another room and forgotten? Without Andeal’s timely visits, his thoughts whirled down the same spiral every day. He would think of his brother, of all they’d shared. He’d remember his abrupt death and the swirling anger when he’d learned the perpetrator had escaped. All these years he’d dogged Holt, coining the term “White Renegade”, unraveling their plots, capturing rebels, trying to worm his way up to him. He’d had him, at last. Always, he came back to that last confrontation with the Regarian. To his failing courage, his inability to avenge his brother. A flush crept up his cheeks and he lowered his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

He regretted the admission the moment it escaped his lips. It shouldn’t matter where he was held. He’d escape, return to the Union army, and give them the hideout’s location. What difference would Andeal’s visits make? When the troops arrived, he’d be caught with the rest of the bandits. Better not to get too attached. Vermen’s fingers played with the fabric of his pants but he tried not to show his discomfort. Maniel tilted her head to the side.

“Interesting. Too bad we don’t always get what we want.”

She gave him a sweet smile and waved as she left. Vermen stood, speechless, as the door closed and the clanking chain was put back in place.

 

 

* * *

 

Andeal sat at his large angled desk, studying the blueprints before him for the hundredth time. A single mistake would mean a crashing death for the first rebels to use his machine and no matter how often he verified his math, terrible nightmares haunted him. What if the helium didn’t suffice? What if the propeller was too heavy? What if Lenz Schmitt’s idea was unworkable?

He had to admit, however, that he would not catch any flaws today. He spent more time staring at the smooth cavern wall than at the numbers. His mind was elsewhere, with the strange prisoner he’d wanted Maniel to meet. She had to see for herself how different he was from what they’d imagined. Andeal wondered what could take her so long, why she had not returned an hour ago, as expected. Could they really have talked that long?

Heavy strides from the corridor warned him of her return. She slapped her feet on the ground with too much zeal. Not a good sign in his experience. Andeal leaned in his rotating chair and turned toward the bedroom’s door.

Maniel flung it open as she entered and smashed it closed even harder. He set his pencil down and rose from the desk.

“He is the most arrogant, prideful jerk I have ever met—and I spend my days around Stern! How you can stay hours in there is beyond me.”

Andeal strode across the room and wrapped his arms around his wife. Her immense frustration could mean but one thing. “So you talked with him.”

“I—” She pushed him back. “Curse you, Andeal. Yes, I talked with him and I didn’t like it.”

“Do tell. You said you’d put the food down and leave.”

Maniel’s eyes narrowed. She knew him, knew what he wanted to hear.

“I tried, but he held me back. He grabbed my wrist and asked about you.”

“I knew it!” His heart soared. He’d worried about how Vermen would react to their last fight—that if Andeal pushed too hard, the captain would push back and his allegiance to the army would grow deeper. “I told you, Maniel. He’s not a brainwashed idiot.”

“He looks every bit like one.” She moved to the desk’s chair but did not sit, staring at his blueprints instead. “But he’s not. Which means he’s more dangerous than you think, not that he’s a friend.”

“He could be. He must be.”

Her hand tightened around the armchair and she turned around, rage lighting her dark eyes. “Must be?”

“Yes.” Andeal wiped his palms on his pants. At first it had only been his instincts talking but now he had a practical reason. Lenz Schmitt’s message was clear: there was a recording sewn into the balloon envelope. It had to be about Galen Clarin, which meant they might at last leave Mount Kairn to expose the horrible scientist. “We might be on our way soon. Would you leave him behind, locked up?”

Maniel’s jaw tightened and she closed the gap between them in one deliberate stride. Andeal’s heart squeezed tight. With Maniel, you knew you’d crossed a line when she contained her fury into a calm, unwavering anger.

“We are not talking about a generic soldier. This is Captain Hans Vermen. Is there a single season since we’ve known Seraphin when we haven’t heard his name? When we haven’t learned the danger of underestimating him? He short-circuited half of our operations, can be blamed for all of our deaths. Must I name them, Andeal?” Her face came inches from his and she looked down. Her slender finger tapped his chest with every name she gave. “Erika. Desmond. Andeal. Jus––”

“Stop!” He grabbed her hand and lowered it. His voice shook. “I know them as well as you do. But they knew the risks, and if Hans wasn’t behind our losses, someone else would be. Maniel, we’re talking about imprisoning someone for an indefinite amount of time. Is that what you want? Have you forgotten?”

Maniel stepped back with a sharp intake of breath. She looked like she’d been slapped and Andeal regretted his words. Of course she hadn’t forgotten. He reached for her shoulder, softly, and his voice fell to a whisper.

“I refuse to inflict that on anyone. Not even Hans Vermen.”

“He’ll betray you. Don’t fool yourself, Andeal. He is a Union officer and your kindness won’t change that. When given the choice, he will abandon you.”

“He didn’t shoot Seraphin. That has to count for something.”

She studied him in silence, worry battling anger in her gaze. Try as he might, it was hard to dismiss Maniel’s assessment. Was she right? Would his trust in Vermen be disregarded on the first occasion? Could he risk the entire rebel encampment because of the persistent voice in his head, telling him he was worth the risk?

“I’ll be careful,” he said.

A bitter smile curled her thin lips. “You never are.”

Andeal chuckled and smiled back. “True. Once we retrieve the envelope, though, things might start moving faster. I don’t want a prisoner while we go after the Clarins.”

“You can’t decide if he’s trustworthy by yourself. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. With Seraphin.” Maniel had added just a bit of weight to her tone as she mentioned their Regarian friend. She knew they’d fought. They probably would again. Andeal ground his teeth together and let her go on.

“Any news from Henry?”

This time his shoulders slumped. He moved to their two-seater and let himself fall into the cushion with a sigh. “He wants to leave. I tried holding him back but nothing I say will change his mind.”

Maniel settled next to him and slid her fingers in his. “You can’t force him, Andeal.”

“But it’s so wrong!” He pulled his wife closer, then started playing with the leather band on his ring finger. “He’s bitter, I get it, but Lenz is his father and Henry being a part of our fight was his last wish. If I had any news from my parents, I’d be overjoyed!”

“They didn’t leave you.” Maniel was running a hand back and forth through his hair. He let the feeling of her slender fingers brushing against his scalp calm him and closed his eyes to focus on them and her voice. “Nothing excuses abandoning Henry the way Lenz did. He has a right to be angry.”

“So what do we do?”

“Let him go.” He tensed at her words and she chuckled. She must have expected this reaction and went on with barely a pause. “Before he leaves, however…I think he ought to know more. Even if he never forgives him, he should learn what kind of man his father really was. You should show him Lenz Schmitt’s legacy.”

Andeal’s eyes flew open. She could only mean one thing by that. He turned to face her, a childish grin stretching his lips.

“The Lenz Balloon?”

Her soft laugh was music to his ears. “Of course, the Lenz Balloon. If you hadn’t been so obsessed with that captain, you would’ve shown him ages ago.”

A pang of guilt mitigated Andeal’s enthusiasm. She was right, he’d spent a lot of time with Hans. In a way, the gruff captain was easier to deal with.

“He’ll love it,” Andeal said. “He has to.”