Egress
Rareș nodded, satisfied.
I was not. “Mediate?”
“We don’t have a lot of time. I need you to mediate.”
“I’m surprised you think I’d do anything for you after you stormed into town and kidnapped a bunch of people, but all right, let’s hear it.”
He shook his head and hoofed at the ground in what I guessed was irritation. Clearly, human–Whisper relations would mean learning a whole new set of physical cues. “The Unspoken is not self-sufficient. It never has been and never will be. It needs people in so many more ways than I can explain.”
“To kill and turn into Whispers?”
“That’s only the least, and most unfortunate, need among them.”
I huffed.
“The woods are filled with people. The cities beyond. The world. There are so many crafts Whispers can’t learn, like working iron or wood. So many skills. So much exploration. Worlds beyond worlds. And yes, sometimes, people turn into Whispers. By choice.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“No, it hasn’t always been by choice. But it will be from now on. My decisions, and all the things I’ve gone through. They’re in the king’s cycle now. Forever.”
I didn’t pretend to understand, but as long as we were talking about sparing lives, I was willing to listen. “What now? The town’s decided they won’t give you any more people.”
“And I still need to get them to the other side, or risk losing many lives.”
“Can’t you refuse her requests?”
His laugh was half bark. “After all this, don’t you believe that if I could, I would?”
I did. “I think we’re all tired and ready for this to end. What can we do?”
He hoofed the ground again, then gazed toward the rubble of the Wailing Arch in the distance. Outlined against the dark woods behind her, a sleek and almost transparent woman shone, a crown of lake weeds on her delicate head. Her legs were so dainty they seemed to vanish into nothing at times, and her shift was the shiniest, purest white. Her Majesty oversaw everything from a safe distance, surrounded by her Iele.
“The process to shut the border is already begun. The Crones are singing the unsongs as we speak, and it won’t be long. Once it’s done, it’s done for a very long time. It’ll take a cycle before another border can be opened, and it might not even be in this place. Even with all my good intentions, the Unspoken needs people in the meantime, and she’s adamant. Before the closing’s done, there will either be compromise or bloodshed.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Talk to them and help them see sense. We only want nine more young ones, and the specialists. The border closes when the sun’s fully risen. So, let’s not dawdle.”
Ancuţa, Florin, and I walked past the barricade. The guards eyed us suspiciously, but made no protest, and I recognized and greeted Lucian, the tanner, among them.
Miss Crosman and her girls scampered about distributing cups of something hot to everyone present, and when Greta, the maid, offered me one, I took it with glee. The warmth from it seeped through my palms and into my bones, and I only held it for a while with my eyes closed, enjoying that feeling and the sweet smell of fragrant herbs. When I finally tried it, the fresh sour taste of lemongrass and leeks hit my tongue first, followed by spicy mint. A restorative herb soup, no doubt, and one I was most grateful for. I scarfed the first two cupfuls down and only on the third properly opened my eyes to see everyone staring right at me.
Miss Crosman wasted no time. “Won’t.”
“They—”
“I know what they want. Won’t, and we’re ready to fight them. And they better give back the ones they’ve already taken.”
I rubbed my eyes and temples, tired of being constantly spoken over, wondering what else I could have expected. Behind her, people stirred. It seemed like most of the town was there, bravely facing whatever came, tired of cowering behind closed doors. Artjom waved to me from a far row, and I was glad to see him, but angry at what a hand his guild had played in bringing this all to pass. There was never anything simple in caring for people.
“All I can do is tell you what I know. They mean no harm but need people to fill their ranks. They want ten children, and the specialists—”
“I know what they want, and I know that fool of a mayor promised it to them. Your little friend told me all about it before you got here.”
Perdy had spoken to her? And survived? That certainly explained the forlorn look.
The maestress put her hands on her hips. “Just because the mayor was wrong doesn’t make what they’re doing now right.”
Many of the people behind her nodded, but not all. Weary eyes rose from the dirt to the tune of “But what about the orphans?” and “I’ll go if they’ve got better beds than we do.” Some even chuckled. There was never any chaos great enough that human beings could not become accustomed to it.
The maestress rounded on them. “Hush, you all. Nobody’s going anywhere! We’ll have no more. We’re angry and have been hounded and harried and will have no more.”
Behind her, Florin was flush against the barrier, looking over it to where Perdy stood. She waved a tentative little finger-wave at him. The whole universe and I stood in rapt anticipation for the breaths it took for him to make up his mind, then sighed in relief when he waved back. At least those two still had some hope.
“Miss Crosman, would you say it’s wrong to force people into doing what they don’t want to do?” I cocked my head and feigned innocence.
She crossed her arms and scowled. “Was I unclear? I said so. We won’t hand them over.”
“The Whispers won’t leave without a fight, and you’ll only lose more lives. Guaranteed.”
“We’re not giving them anyone.”
“What if we call for volunteers, instead?”
A murmur rushed through the crowd. The maestress raised her hands, asking for silence, and considered me for a moment.
“What if there aren’t any? And they certainly won’t be children!”
“I don’t know whether there will be or not, nor who. I don’t even know if the Whispers would agree. But if they did, would you?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Seeing as you only just got my agreement that keeping people against their will is wrong, I haven’t a choice, have I? Rather than think you’re clever and can entrap me, try being straightforward next time. I’m not a fool and want loss of life no more than you do.”
I smiled but reddened down to my toes. I had thought I was clever and should have known better. Wasting no time, for there was none to spare, I rushed through the barricade to where Rareș waited, grim. “Well?”
“A compromise. You said you needed numbers.”
“I did.”
“And you said you’d treat them well.”
“I will.”
“What if I convinced them to allow for volunteers?”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. That’s part of the deal. Everyone here gets to make a free choice. Everyone has to respect that choice. Could be half the town.”
From the shadow of the woods, the queen let out a sharp whistle. Rareș sent her a look that was a few drops of murder in a spoonful of sugar. “There’s no time.” He thought for a second, then nodded. “I’ll make it work, somehow. I’ll convince Her Majesty. You make it work on the other side.”
“We have a deal, then? Freedom of choice for everyone? Including the ones already taken?”
“If I say we do, and it ends up going to hell because one side or the other loses their grip, we’re both responsible. Hand in….” He looked down at himself and chuckled. “Equally.”
He was right. “We are. But I couldn’t live with not trying. So do we have a deal?”
“We do.”
* * *
I spoke to them as best I could.
It took a lot of strength to step up on a crate and tell them the truth. I told them what it was like, what little I’d seen of it. I told them what Rareș said about there being worlds beyond worlds to explore, but that we couldn’t know anything for sure, not even if they would be safe. Finally, I told them what I believed, in my heart, to be true. That Rareș was trying his best and was being honest about his intentions. It proved my point further when the ones he’d already taken were flown back safely and dropped right on our doorstep, Master Marc among them.
As soon as I’d finished, arguments broke. Young sons wanted to leave; mothers wanted to keep them. Husbands wanted to sacrifice themselves. Sisters wanted to be free and explore. For a while, it seemed like chaos. Then, over the course of half an hour, it settled.
Some went to protect their families. They knew having enough volunteers would keep the Whispers from complaining that not enough of them were children. They were reluctant but determined. Fierce. I admired them more than the ones who sought adventure, because they were afraid, but did it anyway.
All in all, two dozen people got ready and passed through the barricade as the others waved and spat in their bosoms, terrified looks on their faces. It was a blow, but not a surprise to see Ancuţa among the migrants.
She hugged me one-armed, holding a massive backpack full of books with the other. “I’ll miss you, stubborn lady.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Are you kidding? The chance to study my life’s work from within?” She whistled. “Besides, the moment that border shuts, the entire Warren library becomes a collection of fiction. My job becomes obsolete. This makes sense for me.”
“Then, I hope you take the Unspoken by storm.”
“By the way, you were right about your skeleton. Whisper, for certain. I never got the chance to find out what kind, but maybe there’s more information on the other side. They’re resting, buried on their side of the arch, now.”
“Thank you.” The personal connection I felt with the mysterious O was inexplicable, but there, and I was truly grateful to know their remains were at peace.
Not knowing what else to say, I held her close for a long moment.
Artjom was waiting when we finally let go of each other. I was less saddened, but even more surprised to see he’d packed.
“You too?”
He smiled and shrugged. “I have so much blame in what happened. I knew all along that keeping a Pricolici wasn’t right, otherwise we wouldn’t have had to hide it. But I didn’t want to let Cheșa down, and I wanted to learn more about the creature, and I let love and knowledge cloud my kindness. So here I am. Doing the right thing, this time.”
“You’ll find Cheșa there.”
He drew a sharp breath. “I hadn’t dared hope he was still alive, and the relief might knock me flat.” He paused for a moment, obviously considering his next words. “I’m sorry for everything that happened out here, and for whatever happened in there. I don’t think I have a right to say whether any of us are bad people, but at the very least, he’s not worse than the rest of us. I promise.”
“I’ve seen him be incredibly cruel, and incredibly kind. I don’t know, either, but I know you all come from a time and place I can’t even begin to understand, so maybe it’s best I embrace not knowing. Try to keep him from doing any harm, though? To himself, as well.”
“Maybe I can find a way to calm whatever pains him now that I’m no longer lying to myself about him being in pain.”
There were some pains that couldn’t be eased from the outside, and I knew firsthand that trying made things worse, but it wasn’t my place to judge his path. All I had was hope.
We said our goodbyes, and he joined the others. Even Master Marc was among them, ready to head back into the fray from which we’d returned him. I hadn’t guessed nearly how tough those people really were.
Ancuţa led the way through the still-distrustful guards, and the other volunteers followed her. Some gathered to say goodbye and wish them well, but not all were as gracious. Many of the bystanders muttered about betrayal and lies and how it’d all be back to the same old tomorrow. Miss Crosman fluttered among them, distributing reminders about ‘even more death’ and ‘battles that can’t be won’, reminders she herself for sure found distasteful.
“Traitors!” A muted growl rose from the crowd.
One of the men leaving town heard and shot it right back. “Maybe if you weren’t a relentless arse to everyone around you, Plaeter, people wouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave.”
From behind the first row of onlookers, Plaeter let out an incoherent grunt and bent over, fumbling with something by the barricade. I assumed he felt the sting of the put-down and pretended to tie his shoe, and I turned my attention back to the volunteers saying their goodbyes, but a moment later Plaeter’s voice rose again.
“This is how we deal with beastly scum!”
The woman nearest him screamed as he drew his arm back to launch a thick brown firebrew bottle over the crowd and into the mass of Whispers on the other side of the barricade. At Perdy. In a flash, I envisioned all of the work we’d done and sacrifices we’d made go up in flames. There was no way I’d have made it to him in time, but my body moved me anyway. I took two steps, and the bottle was already in the air.
A flash of silver from behind the reckless reprobate connected with the bottle midair. Florin, still stationed where he could keep an eye on Perdy, swung his sword like a bat, swatting the bottle down toward the ground and away from its course. It shattered against an oak bench right under his feet, a spray of liquid fire bursting everywhere. The crowd parted instantly, but not enough so to prevent several of them from catching alight, Flor included. The barricade itself was ablaze in moments.
I made it to him at the same time as Ancuţa, and we swatted him out with our bare hands, burns be damned. Perdy was suddenly by my side, comforting him, whispering reassurance. Miss Crosman appeared with burn salve and started tending the injured while the others tried to put the heaping piles of furniture out. It was an obviously futile effort, and they drew back from the roaring blaze almost immediately.
A gallop from beyond drew my attention. At the mouth of the barricade, surrounded by fire but unflinching, Rareș huffed and fretted. “If this is some trick, it’ll be the last—”
I stepped forward, almost tripping over Perdy, who had the same idea. We ended up in a tangle, holding on to each other. I spoke first. “An accident!”
He growled under his breath.
“The deal remains unchanged. Nobody was harmed.”
He looked back over his shoulder, but the smoke clouded everything. Pacing, he spoke without looking at me. “For everyone’s sake, we need to go now. No more waiting around for accidents.”
I checked that everyone was being tended to, then asked Perdy to come with me and followed him out to the crossroads. The queen and her handmaidens were already gone, and most Pricolici soon followed. One neat row of tranquil hounds waited, and Charles, after nudging my hand with his head one more time, joined them. With a wave of his horn, Rareș gestured to the volunteers. “Mount and let’s be off!”
Almost all balked, but Ancuţa had her skirts hiked up and her leg across Charles’s rump before Rareș even finished speaking. Seeing her comfortably perched and waving down at them, the others took heart.
I smiled at her, and at her ride, and wished her well in her new role as citizen of the Unspoken. I wished them all well.
Then, they were gone. Only Rareș and Perdy remained beside me.
I took a deep breath. “Well. This has been an unmitigated disaster.”
Rareș chuckled, a smith among friends again. “Could have gone worse too. She was right ready to eat you all alive. Who’d have guessed. The upper class of the Whispers are just as self-centered and near-sighted as ours.”
“And now you’re among them.”
He smiled, but it was tired and cold. “I’ll shake things up yet. There’s a use even for rusted iron. It’s time we left now, though. No more than a quarter hour before it’s all gone for good. Farewell.”
I nodded. He sauntered off, stopping after a few steps to look back at Perdy and me. It almost made me burst into laughter, watching the dots slowly connect, written plainly across his face.
“You can’t be serious. They just lobbed a firebomb at you.”
Perdy shrugged. “Freedom of choice for everyone, you said. Deal’s a deal. I’m staying right here.”
We held hands as he disappeared into the trees, grumbling and flicking his tail.