“Wait.” I snap out the command aloud, urgent. Duodecim stops dead. He stands in front of the prisoner, left arm drawn back, motionless.
“Who is there?” The blindfolded man has finally registered something ishappening. His Vetusian is thickly accented, much harder to grasp than the version Caeror has had me practicing. But my familiarity with the language, and our constant sessions over the past months, are enough for me to understand.
Vek. I need time to think this through. The tip of Duodecim’s perfectly still granite blade hovers a few inches from the stranger’s right shoulder. He’s clearly afraid, clearly a prisoner. My eyes stray to the unused blades on the bench. The thick, pooled blood on the floor. Bile burns my throat as I put it together.
This man was to be a new Gleaner?
He nods.
You were intending to make him one yourself?
He nods again. I gaze around at the blood.
New Gleaners are sometimes violent? This was your distraction? Set him loose?
He affirms it, one more time.
Vek. Vek, vek,vek. It all passes between us within the space of a few seconds. I turn back to the man, who is again asking in a trembling voice what is happening, starting to get louder again and squirming against his restraints. The longer I stand here, the more chance there is that we are discovered.
Is he alive?I ask it out of desperation.
Duodecim shakes his head.
In that moment, I almost do it. I almost instruct Duodecim to proceed. There is no telling how long the hallway outside will remain empty. All it will take is one Gleaner to see me, and none of this works. And this man—thisdeadman—is my best way out.
Is he being controlled? Is he in any way under the influence of anyone except himself?
A shake of the head.Vek.
The path you described to me. It leads from here?
A nod.
Be the distraction yourself. Forget what I look like and every other detail of how I have made you obey. If you are captured, respond in all ways as if you never met me, as if none of this has happened. Our experiments with Tash suggest that as long as I was the last one to imbue him, he’ll continue to obey, even if he gets conflicting commands from a previous imbuing. I hope to the gods’ graves that holds.Once you have caused enough of a distraction to draw away the Gleaners in our path, do whatever you can to make sure any questioning of you is impossible.
I try to think of it as a mercy. It doesn’t feel that way.
Tap your blade on the ground to indicate the number of minutes we should wait before leaving.
Click, click, click. Silence.
Go.
Duodecim strides away without hesitation.
It’s a bad move. A gods-damned stupid decision. I’m risking his being caught and thus my Synchronism, the purpose of my being here, becoming known to Ka. And I’ll be losing my connection to the Gleaner either way. No time to second-guess myself, though. No time to regret what I’ve just done. I stride over to the bound iunctus. He’s a little shorter than me, muscled and hale-looking. Clean-shaven, including his scalp, and immediately in much better condition than any of the Qabrans were. He looks about in his mid-thirties.
“Stay quiet. I’m a friend. I’m going to let you free. Once you are, you need to follow me.” I say it in careful Vetusian, hoping the meaning is clear. It seems to be. The stranger shies away from my voice, close as it is, but after a moment he nods anxiously. His body still trembles as I rip away his blindfold, allowing him to see me.
The man takes me in, panic emanating from him like a physical heat, but he holds his tongue. Nods again as our gazes meet. Good. He’s under control enough to do as I tell him.
I fiddle with the manacle on the right for about thirty seconds, thinking desperately. I can’t risk imbuing him to ensure he does as he’s told; even if I could stomach the idea, between Duodecim and my injury, I don’t have the Will to spare. Eventually I figure out the mechanism I’m working at and release it, moving on to the left. A few more seconds of fumbling and the freed prisoner stumbles forward, putting fearful distance between himself and the slab.
“Wait until I move. Stay close. Your name?” It might be useful, if I need to get his attention.
“Ahmose.”
“Vis.” I hold up a hand to indicate that should be the extent of our interaction for now, and close my eyes.
