Of the Abyss (24 page)

“Hansa . . .” Umber looked away. “I'm not a jealous lover. I feel no possessiveness over you, beyond the need to keep you safe because you are my bond. I am going, to the best of my ability, to try not to interfere with your life.”

“So, what?” Hansa asked. “You propose that I just roll over and leave your bed in the morning to go back to my wife?”

Again, that look. “No, I propose that, whatever
I
do, you are not going to have the perfect Quin life. Whether or not you were manipulated into it, the bond remains. At the very least you will need to take precautions to avoid sighted guards noticing Abyssal power on you. And as I said before, power will have its way no matter what you prefer. If you try to ignore the bond and the power gets desperate, in addition to me, you might find yourself drawn to subgroups like the spawn, maybe Abyssumancers or Abyssi outright. You can't afford to respond to a call for the One-­Twenty-­Six and find yourself dazzled like a schoolboy by your target.”

Abyssumancers had given that as their excuse more than once when Hansa arrested them: the power
needs
this. It needs blood. It needs pain. Some of the younger ones still seemed horrified by the appalling things they had done in the name of their magic. Hansa had never understood.

He understood now.

“You're right,” Umber said. “Part of what makes Abyssumancers so dangerous is that even the best-­intentioned of their lot lose any moral compass when their power makes a demand. The boon has more specific needs, so it has no reason to push you to the kind of abuse a mancer may commit, but if you deny its demands, it can strip you down until you lose all reason. Maybe you would rather let yourself get to that state so you can absolve yourself of all responsibility. Personally, I hope you'll make a decision early enough that you're still capable of giving consent. As I've assured you before, I am not interested in rape.”

Hansa flinched from the coarse word, the last of a series of truths he wished he could refute.

“Do you want to go back to the others now?” Umber asked, leaving the other option gently unspoken.

Hansa fought to organize his thoughts, to exercise some form of logic.

I despise you. I will never sleep with you.
Those words, spoken in anger and fear and defensiveness, now gave him a barb of guilt. How many men, half-­Abyssi or not, would have disregarded Hansa's countless jabs and insults and still attempted to be decent in this situation?

He couldn't find the words he needed. He believed Umber, but didn't know how to say yes. Especially
here
.
Now.
“I can't,” he said, not answering the question Umber had asked aloud, but the other one, the implied one. “Not with Cadmia and Xaz only a few paces away and an Abyssi who might be inclined to jump in. I . . . just can't.” There were so many other things wrapped up in that
can't,
but Umber nodded, accepting either the reasons he had stated aloud or the dozens of others swirling scattered in his thoughts. “If we were alone . . .” If Xaz and the others hadn't been around, the question would already have been decided.

“I can't promise privacy anytime soon.” Umber didn't sound like he was pushing Hansa to change his mind, just reminding him of one of the many complications they faced.

Hansa swallowed his squeamishness. “I'm not saying no to
you
.” The words heated his face, but he continued, because he hated that ugly word Umber had used and it was important to get this out in case he couldn't say it later. “I'm saying no to the
situation
. If we ever get somewhere where we're alone, or if I get to the point where I'm not able to make a decision on my own any more, you have a yes.”

Umber's smile was wistful, with none of his usual cavalier derision. That was good; if he had made a smart quip in response to Hansa's struggling to give him the consent he claimed to care about, Hansa would probably have punched him.

“We should get back to the others,” Umber said. Hansa tensed as the spawn reached for him, but Umber said, “Some touch is better than none. Little bits of power may tide you over until the situation changes. Being here in the Abyss helps, too; the power in the air isn't quite what your body needs, but it's close, like bread for a man who needs meat. It will fill your stomach a while.”

How long was
a while
? Long enough for them to get this ridiculous boon out of the way and get back to the mortal realm? Unless his luck drastically changed course, it seemed more likely a descent into madness would find him first.

 

CHAPTER 28

C
admia sighed, momentarily luxuriating in the feeling of a full belly and a comfortable spot to sit.

Once she overcame her initial hesitation, the strange food Alizarin had provided proved satisfying. The odd, spiked fruit was a deep purple, segmented inside a little like an orange, but with a flavor more akin to whiskey. She expected it to leave her parched, but the juice soothed her dry throat. The meat—­which they ate raw because even Alizarin could not make a fire from bare sand and the scattered shells let off a greasy, smoky flame that made them all cough—­had the soft-­grained texture of high-­grade tuna, and was delicious as long as she could put the image of the slimy, sharp-­toothed orange-­and-­yellow snake it came from out of her mind.

She ate lounging against Alizarin's side the way she had once sprawled on the large throw pillows that filled her mother's parlor—­except this “pillow” was warm, vibrated with energy, and was firm underneath a layer of the softest fur she had ever touched.

“You would make a good Abyssi,” Alizarin declared, tapping her knee with his tail to punctuate his point.

When Cadmia had first woken tucked against the Abyssi's chest, she had frozen, caught by too many dissonant sensations: the long-­missed familiarity of having a man's body next to her after a decade spent sleeping alone, the exotic feel of soft fur over hard muscle, and the trepidation that filled her as she remembered where she was and who—­what—­she lay against.

Before she could decide what to do, her stomach had rumbled. The sound woke Alizarin, who stretched unselfconsciously, seeming not to notice the way doing so made Cadmia's breath hitch, and asked, “Do you need food?”

That brought them to here and now.

“Thank you,” she said, because the words seemed intended as praise. “Why do you say so?”

“You take pleasure in things when you have them,” he said.

“She thinks too much to be an Abyssi,” Xaz remarked.

Alizarin paused to consider the comment, which made Cadmia say, “Alizarin thinks a great deal, too.” It was not her first attempt to get Alizarin to confirm if
all
Abyssi were so different than she had been taught, or if he was atypical for his kind. Of everyone she had come to the Abyss with, he was most open to her curiosity, but he tended to deflect direct questions about himself.

Hansa and Umber returned at that moment, though. Hansa walked with an arm around Umber's waist, but seemed unable to make eye contact with the rest of them.

Growing up with Cinnabar and other men in the Order of A'hknet who were open to male bed partners had left Cadmia jaded to such relations, but Quin were unequivocal in their opinion. Hansa would have been raised believing men were only attracted to other men out of some perverse, selfish obsession that focused their lust on others like themselves instead of “proper” partners. It wasn't easy to set a lifetime of indoctrination aside.

But sometimes it's worth it,
she thought, considering the way she had once walked away from the Order of A'hknet, where education and study were generally considered a waste of time, and embraced a path of learning.

Umber joined their circle and helped himself to food enthusiastically, seeming undisturbed by its form. Hansa leaned against Umber, picking mechanically at what he was offered as if he didn't see or taste any of it.

Now that everyone was accounted for, it was time to turn their minds to what they needed to do next.

“We obviously need a new plan,” Cadmia said once the men were settled.

She hated the thought of abandoning the lost guards in the Abyss, but it would be foolish to stay longer than necessary to try to save them. Assuming Antioch was the only dangerous foe they might face, or that he wouldn't return, were gambles they couldn't take. It also seemed clear that Umber and Hansa couldn't afford to pursue any path that didn't fulfill the boon.

“What exactly do we need to accomplish?” she asked. She thought she understood the gist of their need, but it seemed so silly that one way to accomplish the task was to decide it
couldn't be done.

Hansa and Umber exchanged a heavy look, the guard looking lost and overwhelmed, and Umber contemplative. “We need to either find someone who can resurrect Ruby, or find someone with the authority to say for sure that it can't be done,” Umber summarized. “According to the Numini, that means finding this Terre Verte fellow.”

Cadmia's skin crawled as she imagined another mancer, a stranger, walking in and restoring Ruby to life. Despite her current alliance with Alizarin, Xaz, and Umber, it was hard to picture raising the dead without horror. She couldn't remember how she had justified it to herself during that surreal hour when she had gone to Hansa to get him to help his once-­fiancée.

“And Numini can't lie?” she asked. The others nodded, and Cadmia mentally checked off another bit of information she had learned via speculation and rumor.

“Could they have misled you about this man's powers?” she asked Xaz. “I know Others can't lie, but did they say outright
he can do this,
or did they just hint at it or tell you to tell us that?”

Xaz paused, seeming to run the conversation through her mind. “They said it outright,” she decided after a minute.

“Do we have
any
leeway?” She needed to understand this situation with the bond and the boon better in order to address the problem rationally. “How is this boon enforced?”

“Fighting against the boon is . . . unpleasant.” Umber's words were dry and vague, but Hansa's grimace suggested the magic's reaction was fairly immediate. “I've tried to fight a sealed boon before. It's a little like slitting a wrist then trying to row a boat.”

Dramatic image.

“You have another bond?” Hansa asked.

“Priorities, Quin.” Xaz's cue wasn't as sharp as usual. Cadmia could still see the tension of guilt in her face, probably as she considered her role in bringing them to this point.

“
Can
we rescue Terre Verte?” Cadmia asked, twisting to look at Alizarin as the obvious solution came to her. Surely the word of a third-­level prince of the Abyss would be enough to convince Umber or Hansa this boon couldn't be fulfilled. “Without you, we have no chance of surviving the court, much less stealing someone from it. And you don't
need
to help. If you make it impossible for them, Umber and Hansa don't have to do this.”

Alizarin's fur flattened and his body sagged. “Even if I refuse, the Numini will force Xaz to try.”

His obvious frustration and disappointment struck her. She hadn't realized she meant to pet him until she felt his soft black hair trickling through her fingers and saw his head tilt toward the caress.

“If we're going through with this madness,” Xaz said, her voice a bit too high as she considered it, “how do we go about it? Even if Alizarin is powerful enough to help us get this sorcerer away from the court, that won't help us if we're trapped in the Abyss.”

Alizarin looked at Umber apologetically before he said, “An Abyssumancer would be able to open a rift.”

It seemed a simpler solution in words than the others' expressions made it out to be. Umber in particular looked pained, as if he recognized the logic of Alizarin's suggestion, but still wished he hadn't made it.

“Clearly much of what I've been taught is misconception and propaganda,” Cadmia said, considering the Numenmancer, Abyss-­spawn, and Abyssi who were her current companions. “Are Abyssumancers as dangerous as we're told?”

“Yes,”
the others answered, almost in unison, voices ranging from shocked to horrified. Even Hansa joined the chorus.

Umber was the one who explained. “Mancers spend their lives fighting to balance their humanity with the demands of their power, which ultimately only wants one thing: to feed.”

Cadmia looked doubtfully to Xaz, who tensed and said, “Numini don't use their mancers the way Abyssi do, so we don't lose control the same way.”

The huffy reply seemed to prod Hansa out of his distracted state. He protested, “Tell that to the twenty-­eight ­people killed in Fuscio last year when the summer temperature dropped so abruptly in the market square that they froze where they stood, or the three guards struck by lightning when we tried to apprehend the Numenmancer responsible.”

Cadmia wasn't familiar with the event, but Xaz's livid expression made it clear she was. “Of course, blame the
mancer,
” she spat. “Did you even look at the scene when you arrived? Did you see the noose those twenty-­eight ­people had thrown over the chapel's balcony rail? It was a lynch mob!”

“Enough!” Cadmia shouted, interrupting the argument before the two could come to blows. Given Hansa and Xaz had effectively tried to kill each other only a few days ago, it was amazing they had made it this long without conflict, but the topic under discussion was Abyssumancers. “We don't have time for this.” The conversation had made it clear that even Xaz was biased on the subject, so Cadmia asked Umber bluntly, “If a tie to the Abyss makes one so irredeemable, why aren't you a monster?”

“I'm not a human bound magically to an Abyssi,” he answered, apparently unoffended. “I
am
part Abyssi. I don't have one using me as a valuable—­but ultimately disposable—­source of food.
Unless
,” he continued, frustration leaking into his tone, “we find an Abyssumancer who sees me as just that.”

That explained why he so clearly wished there was another way.

“Can we do this without an Abyssumancer?” Cadmia asked Alizarin.

“I do not believe so,” he answered.

“Then how do we find one?”

“I normally follow the trail of corpses.” Hansa set aside his half-­eaten food. “Even if an Abyssumancer
can
help us, do we have a reason to expect one
will
?”

“There is an Abyssumancer named Naples attached to the high court,” Alizarin said. “He will help as a favor to me.”

“If we need to go to such a person,” Xaz said grudgingly, “I advise that we don't mention the Numini. Even if he wants to help you, Alizarin, an Abyssumancer might be contrary enough to refuse any request that might please the Numini.”

Alizarin shrugged, as if he hadn't considered that point but didn't intend to dispute it.

“No offense, Alizarin,” Umber said, “but you've been accused of getting the last mancer who helped you killed. Will this Naples trust you?”

Alizarin shifted uneasily behind Cadmia. “He will help.”

“Won't his Abyssi object?” Hansa asked.

“He never has before.”

“Do we have
any
other ideas?” Cadmia asked one last time. No one responded, or seemed inclined to meet her eye, so she said, “Then this is our plan. Alizarin, how far are we from this Abyssumancer?”

She imagined trekking through this dangerous wilderness for days, eating the kills Alizarin brought back and engaging in battle with whatever enemies challenged them.

Alizarin rolled onto his back, thought, and said, “At your speed, not far. Less than an hour.”

Cadmia did some mental geography, considered their earlier conversation about the analogous nature of the Abyss to the mortal realm, and asked incredulously, “The
Abyssal high court
is directly under the city of Mars?”

“That's . . . mighty convenient.” Umber spoke with his customary suspicion.

Xaz rolled her eyes to the sky, or what would be the sky if there were anything but a sooty darkness above, and said in long-­suffering tones, “The palace of the Numini is the same, or so I have been told. It isn't surprising, really. Kavet is the only country in the world with mancers. Perhaps that's because it is so close to the strongest Abyssi and Numini.”

“That might explain the country,” Cadmia agreed, “but what explains the capital city being exactly above—­and below, I suppose—­the Other courts?”

“The royal house.” Hansa sounded uncharacteristically impatient. “They were accused of sorcery in the revolution, and they're the ones who first established the city of Mars. What's to say they didn't build it there intentionally?” All record of the royal house had been destroyed during the revolution, but it seemed as sound a theory as any. He moved as if to stand, then hesitated. “Are we going?”

“We're going,” Umber answered, abandoning his half-­eaten food and pushing to his feet.

As if noticing that the rest of them were hastily using black sand to clean their hands, Hansa said, “I don't think it's a good plan, but it's what we need to do.”

Cadmia understood the need for haste, or thought she did, until she saw the way Hansa kept shifting his weight like a man whose muscles have gone to pins and needles. He was trying, and failing, to conceal the signs of his physical discomfort.

Umber was doing a better job. Cadmia might not have interpreted his stone-­faced expression as anything but laconic disinterest if she didn't know the situation.

Like slitting a wrist then trying to row a boat.

She'd had enough to eat. When she stood, Xaz and Alizarin followed.

A flickering glow out of the corner of her eye drew Cadmia's attention to the butchered snake Alizarin had left a few yards off. The shining creatures that normally hung from the trees flowed over the carcass like phosphorescent slugs. Another scavenger, a trundling creature the size of Cadmia's palm with a dense shell like a turtle's, had buried its muzzle in the snake's eye. Occasionally one of the wisps slapped at it with a gleaming tendril, but though the blow let off a
hiss
of steam, it didn't seem able to penetrate the beast's shell.