Blood Brothers

“What shall we do, my lord?” Elsa asked. Housemaids and scullions wept together in a knot behind her. The grooms and gardener held back their tears but looked just as fearful. Wineyll clutched her flute case, murmuring a prayer while Kelmair paced, glowering at the Commissar’s guards who stood shoulder to shoulder, penning them into a corner of the courtyard.

“For now, whatever they want,” Ashel replied. Maids, scullions, and grooms mewled and clustered tighter, wild eyes darting at the guards.

“This is not Latha,” Elsa hissed at Ashel.

Heat flashed up his neck. No, it wasn’t. He pushed through the soldiers, ignoring muttered threats. “Major, a word, please.”

She sauntered over.

“I’ll ask you again: am I under arrest?”

“The Commissar will determine that when he returns.”

“Will you ensure the safety of my staff? They have duties to attend without being hindered or harassed by your troops.”

She frowned. “They’ll be safe; on that, you have my word.” She glared at the soldiers until each nodded. “But everyone must remain here until the Commissar is finished with you.” A guard signaled from the door, and Demsch continued, “It looks as if he’s returning now. Come inside, Citizen.”

In the library, the table and chairs had been shoved aside to create a path wide enough for the Kragnashians, and the bookcase covering the secret passage stood open. Ashel followed Demsch into the sloping corridor. Next to the Device stood two warriors, their antennae brushing the ceiling, abdomens curled in the confined space. It was difficult in the flickering light to distinguish the curves and points of the creatures’ tattoos from ordinary shadows. As Ashel studied the markings, the air above the Device shimmered and resolved into Parnden, Earnk, and a Kragnashian, its mandibles pinched around his cousin’s neck.

“Restrain Citizen Korng and bring them both up,” Parnden clapped at a Kragnashian.

A warrior locked its mandibles around Ashel’s neck, loose enough it did no harm but too tight to break free. It pushed; he staggered and caught himself, then walked with back straight, trying to maintain some dignity. As they passed into the library, the creature’s wing covers rustled, knocking books off the shelves.

A guard set up two chairs, and the Kragnashians forced Ashel and Earnk to sit, pinning them as easily as Ashel might hold an infant.

Parnden sauntered forward and cupped Earnk’s chin. “You were a fine youth, my lord. Do you remember the summer you clerked for me?”

“It was unforgettable,” Earnk said, his face splotched red.

“What is the meaning of this?” Ashel asked. “What have you done?”

“And you, Citizen.” Parnden rubbed the backs of his fingers against Ashel’s cheek. “This beard must come off. Major, find a shaving kit.”

A cold sweat beaded Ashel’s skin, and he rubbed the empty knuckles, beset by visions of blades and blood and agony.

“Don’t fret, Citizen,” Parnden said. “You’ll be in good hands. I believe I mentioned that I was born a barber’s son? A wealthy barber, to be sure, one who owned several shops that catered to merchants and guildleaders, and who could afford to send me to the Academy. But a barber all the same.” He rubbed his bald pate. “My own handiwork—keep up the skills, much like your music, I expect.”

A guard rushed in with a sloshing basin and shaving implements, and Parnden asked the Kragnashian to adjust its grip, exposing more of Ashel’s neck. The mandibles opened and pressed down on his shoulders, holding him tight against the chair back.

“I told you in Relm,” Earnk said, “we don’t know where my father is.”

Parnden chuckled. “I’m sure that’s true. Lornk wouldn’t tell you, so you couldn’t tell me. Nevertheless, the situation leaves me in a quandary: what to do with you both while Lornk Korng is at large.” He snapped steel-bladed scissors. “I’ll trim it first, Citizen.”

“Remember what I said about Victoria being a frightful enemy,” Ashel said.

“Oh, yes, I remember. Don’t worry.” Ashel forced himself to take even breaths while the Commissar snipped. There was too much at stake to unleash either his ego or his fear.

“Now the lather.” Parnden stirred up a foam and brushed it onto Ashel’s cheeks and neck. Exchanging brush for blade, he scraped a cheek. “As I was saying, there’s a quandary. I doubt Lornk cares enough about either of you to trade his freedom for yours. And after expending the effort to reveal the lovely face under all this hair, I’d rather Citizen Korng decorate my parlor than my gibbet. And you, my lord—I’d much rather you remain on the Seat of Relm than stew in my dungeon. Lift your chin, Citizen.”

Ashel’s larynx bobbed on its own, his heart racing. The Kragnashian holding him crooned something, and he cleared his throat and forced his breath back into an even rhythm.

Parnden’s blade scraped the cleft between the sinews in Ashel’s neck. “So, the question I ask myself is, what guarantees from the Lord of Relm and Traine’s newest Citizen would set my mind at ease?”

“I’ve given you shares in the copper,” Earnk said.

Fiery pain lanced Ashel’s chin, and a hot line trickled toward his collar. “Oh! I do apologize, Citizen.” Parnden daubed the nick with a towel, then scraped the other side of Ashel’s throat. His heart rampaging within his chest, he fought to keep still. “Shares that won’t pay out until after this so-called Concordance has passed and your father’s next coup attempt is over, one way or the other.” He mopped the remaining lather from Ashel’s face and stepped back. “That’s what you’ve all been waiting for, isn’t it?”

“What is a concordance?” Earnk asked.

Parnden smirked. “Did your father tell you to play the simpleton when you were my clerk, or was that your own invention? I’ve always wondered, especially when you refused the promotion I offered you. You were developing into such a fine lad, my lord. Now, Citizen. I haven’t forgotten why you left your homeland and became involved in this charade. I’ve made inquiries about your wife and sister.”

“And what did you find out?” he asked, bafflement, hope, and terror knotted together in his freshly shaven throat.

The Kragnashian’s mandibles slid along his neck, bringing its head closer. It was humming so faintly he doubted anyone else could hear it. The tune off-key, it took several measures before Ashel recognized the song as “A Wizard’s Last Embrace.”

Parnden’s grin shifted into a mummer’s frown. “Alas, they were taken deep into Kragnashian territory, perhaps even to the southern continent, to be sacrificed in a ritual of grave importance to the Kragnashians. I fear there is no hope of their return.” Lips curling maliciously, he made the Oreseeker condolence sign and pressed his palm to Ashel’s chest. “I am so, so deeply sorry for your loss.”

The words battered Ashel, stoking the doubt and fear that had plagued him nearly half a year. Parnden is lying, Geram said. You know that—the Center confirmed they’re in the past.

Behind him, the Kragnashian’s mouthparts gnashed softly as it whispered something to him. Its mandibles loosened, and antennae grazed his forehead. A strange sensation of hope bloomed, and his fear faded as if washed away by bliss.

“What assurances do you want?” Earnk asked, his voice shaking.

Chittering, the Kragnashians released them and twisted round, knocking more books off the shelves. With a chorus of burrs and clicks, the pair disappeared down the passageway.

Parnden smoothed a scowl into a sneer. “What assurances? A good question, my lord. I’m sure together you and your brother can conceive a satisfactory proposal. Major, henceforth the Lord of Relm and Citizen Korng shall be held here under house arrest.” He stepped toward the hall, turned back. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Citizen, I believe you said you’d never seen The Abolitionist. I came across a copy and thought you might find it illuminating. I know Alek Storund is a friend to the Korngs, but don’t fret. He’ll be given the same choice I give all Citizens: he can escape the gibbet if he supplies someone to take his place.” Handing the paper to Ashel, he left, followed by Demsch and her guards.

Breathing hard, Earnk hurried out. In Latha, Geram conferred with Senators and fieldmarshals as clerks rushed round, packing up the government’s papers. Surprised and baffled by his own calm, Ashel peered down the passageway leading to the Device. A murmur drifted up, as if the Kragnashians were casually chatting. Sifting through the books scattered on the floor, he found the Kragnashian dictionary and slipped it in his pocket, then snagged the volume depicting the clan patterns and tucked Alek’s pamphlet under the cover.

In the hallway, retching filtered from the privy chamber. Fetching a decanter and two glasses from the parlor, Ashel knocked on the privy door. Water ran, and the door slid into the wall. Earnk’s face was white under damp hair.

“I think you need this.” Ashel set the books down and poured him a drink.

“Thank you.” The Relmlord drained the glass. Trembling, he sank to the floor and swiped at tears. “Father would not be pleased to find me here, blubbering.”

Ashel refilled Earnk’s glass and peered through cut crystal at his own amber liquor. “I’ve done my share of blubbering, here and other places.”

Earnk rolled the glass between his palms and scowled. The hall clock ticked. “The last time I watched Parnden wield a barber’s blade, a good friend of mine died.”

Ashel touched his heart and Earnk’s chest. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“This morning, in Relm, his guards murdered mine in front of the staff. Then he left Kragnashians at the Device there, as here. Elesendar knows what the Council will do.”

“Parnden brought Kragnashians to Narath as well. The Lathan government is removing to Erin. My mother abdicated, and Geram is now regent.”

Earnk stared at him. “How—I thought I Heard Geram speaking to you. You can Hear him, even at this distance?”

Ashel guffawed softly. “Nearly all the time. He’s aware of us right now.”

Earnk sipped his drink and loosed a long, low whistle. “That must be hard.”

“In Latha, they said they were assuming control of all the Devices in the world on the basis of a treaty with ‘the First.’ What did the Kragnashians say in Relm? If the Caleisbahnin have switched sides, Parnden’s won.”

Earnk sighed ruefully. “I never learned Kragnashian. But if Parnden and the First are allies now, he wouldn’t still be looking for Father. He’s on a frigate in the bay.” He chortled grimly. “He gets terribly seasick, and he’s likely been miserable for the last two months.”

Ashel tapped the books. “I don’t understand Kragnashian well either, but in the library just now, one tried to tell me something. We need to know which clan has taken over the Device.” He grasped Earnk’s shoulder. “Cousin or brother, we’re in this together now.”

Earnk returned the grip. “Blood or not, it’s brother.”