Diamondsong 02: Capture Read online

  “See you next time.” The pyrsi flew into the air, each holding a rope that wove through the edges of the blanket.

  Her child screamed louder as she flew each bag up from the ground into the kitchen. “I’ll be there soon!” she called.

  Once the bags were on the table, she changed her child’s wrap and then cuddled the little bundle against her chest with one arm. With her free arm, she pulled the items out of the bags and put each away.

  “Do you know,” she said, “that when I was a ch’pyr, I saw a medic once. Ve made my breathing better. I was so grateful; I wanted to be a medic. There is no pyr in the world who helps others more than that. And Sha told me I would be one, then I could help pyrsi too. Then your Ga-pa explained to me that I was not a medic. I was a server. My Da-da was a server. And so was I. I could serve the high class, just as he did. As he does,” she corrected. “And that’s where I met your Da-da. He’s a wonderful server.”

  “I don’t mind serving food,” she continued as the ba’pyr began to settle. “But I’d rather help pyrsi heal.” Keliaka stopped, a pang of guilt arresting her. Ba’pyrsi could hear. It didn’t matter how young one was, a parent should not speak this way. Like any whimsy, any fantasy, it was best kept in its place.

  Inside.

  “We are servers,” she said, pouring the new barley into the sack, too tired to reshuffle it. “Someturn you’ll be a server too. It’s very nice; you meet the most interesting pyrsi.”

  Shoving the empty bags into a cabinet, Keliaka rested back onto the rocking stool, her wings relaxing behind her. She could take a few more minutes before she started the pots. The turns went by too quickly.

  “Shh,” she said. “Ma-ma’s here. There’s no reason to cry. Soon you’ll be crawling and flying.” Not quite ready to consider that, she pushed the thought aside. “And you can be whatever you want to be in your life.” With a wicked laugh she knew no one else could hear, she added a last thought, for she could not speak this way again. “As long as it’s a server.”

  In the Dark

  hat are you doing here?” Dime asked again. She blinked a few times. Rock was still there.

  “Ok, you’re asking me,” Rock said, twirling something in her fingers, “like you just hang out in fairy prison? Didn’t know that about you.”

  Yes, this was Rock, alright. Never the first to offer information. Well, she wasn’t going to waste time in some standoff with one of the smartest pyrsi she’d ever met. If she couldn’t trust Rock, she wasn’t interested in the game.

  “I quit the Circles a few turns back.” She counted. “Six and a half, actually.” The invaders had arrived during the day, and this was the seventh night since. It felt like longer.

  “I know,” Rock answered, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Then the fairies came to Lodon to get you. Some pyrsi say you joined them. Others say you were captured. I knew about this place. Realized some things. Decided to find you.”

  “You didn’t do very well?”

  Rock grinned.

  Harm it. “Ok, you found me. But, you’re already locked in, what did you call it? Prison? I’m so unimpressed.”

  Rock leaned back with an even more smug grin.

  Oh, kill that. “Ok. You meant to get captured. Which means you probably have a way back out. Which means there is way, way, more to this story.”

  “Oh, there is more to both of our stories, it seems. Glad you caught my vibe with Waynie, by the way. I was hoping you’d get it. Makes it so much easier if we can just talk right here. You always were quick on your feet.”

  Rock ended the thought with an awkward silence. Dime was not going to let this get awkward. There was no reason for it to get awkward. She could barely believe Rock was actually here. She gave the fe’pyr another glance. It’s really her.

  Dime couldn’t deny feeling a little disoriented. The last time they’d parted, she’d just assumed they’d cross paths again—that effect of being young when everything feels permanent. But they hadn’t. And, now, here they were.

  “Hey, can we just talk about it?” Dime stumbled a bit on the words. “I mean, so much has happened since then. I haven’t even seen you in, what, nine cycles? We were just barely into our Bakh then. It was like a lifetime ago.” It was; she’d grown so much since then.

  To her relief, Rock offered a warm smile. “You were barely into your Bakh. Don’t remind me of my age. Anyway, just seeing you again, kind of a shock. You know? I’m over it. Anyway, nice family you’ve got. Two kids?”

  The idea that Rock knew about her family was so Rock it didn’t even disturb her. Rock kept tabs on everything, but with unflinching ethical boundaries. Dime had admired that. She started to relax. “Yeah, they’re the best. Ji’Luja is nine, or ‘almost ten’ as ve says it. Fe’Tum is seven.”

  “Wow. A child in vis Bakh.”

  “Almost in vis Bakh.” Dime corrected with a chuckle. “And in case you’re working out the timeline, yes, Luja was a ba’pyr back then. We didn’t meet ver until ve was two. Ve’s so grown up now—working to be a medic, trying to get an apprenticeship in the enclaves. Won’t have a problem; ve’s so dedicated. Tum is making her way through school. Watch out when she decides what she’s going to do.”

  “They sound like their mother.”

  “No,” Dime replied, wishing she were more like her children. “They’ll be better. They’ll make a difference. I’ve—”

  As Rock stared off down the passage, Dime snuck one long look at the fe’pyr, trying to believe it had truly been so long. Rock wore a sleek midnight blue shirt and pant set, trimmed with touches of pewter gray, and probably lined inside and out with pockets and small tools. She had the same odd look to her Dime remembered, even now with her wiser eyes and darker skin.

  Committed to her art, Rock had no tattoos that were visible with standard clothing. To keep pyrsi from feeling too uncomfortable, she drew on highly-realistic markings with cosmetic paint, often adding, as she had now, a thick line under her eyes. That, Dime knew, was just for effect. Pyrsi weren’t sure who they were dealing with, and Rock liked it that way. She was surprised Rock got away with it. All of it. No one had made a law about needing visible tattoos, because no one considered not having them. Except Rock.

  Who was more beautiful than she’d ever been. Dime wasn’t going to deny that, and she didn’t think Dayn would begrudge her the observation. Yet, despite Rock’s constant game face, from which she distracted pyrsi with her bold, blue lips, Dime sensed there was a sadness to her. It was palpable.

  “So, uh, which did you think?” Dime asked.

  Rock glanced over.

  “I mean, whether I was captured or whether I joined them. The Fo-ror.”

  “Oh, I knew you weren’t part of some conspiracy. Besides, I talked to your spouse. He said he didn’t know where you were. I knew you wouldn’t leave him like that.”

  The idea of Dayn talking to Rock felt strange, not that she was uncomfortable with it, just more like . . . separate worlds colliding. Those turns in the field were a long time ago. Dime had moved on.

  Rock shifted in place. “Anyway, Wayniam won’t be back for a while. I’ll keep an ear out. Might as well get comfortable.”

  “Sure, thanks.” Dime wasn’t going to get too comfortable here, though of course Rock didn’t know she’d sort of . . . scolded . . . the High Seat. Dime knew she should tell Rock about that, but she was feeling a little overwhelmed, honestly. Resolving to keep her things packed, she turned to her bag.

  As she checked to make sure everything was still secure, she realized she hadn’t put balm on her arms for a while. She rummaged a little before finding the small jar. Taking the cloak from the side pocket to work it down into the bag’s bottom, she paused for a moment.

  “Why’d they let me keep this?”

  Rock peered through the bars. “A cloak? Eh. No threat. First, you’re i
n a diamond cage, so you couldn’t get out, even if you had valence.”

  “A diamond cage? I don’t see any diamonds. Oh.” She understood, running her hands along a bar and pulling them away at a small spark. “There’s diamond dust in the metal. Just like the ropes they use.”

  “Doesn’t take very much of it, from what I understand, and there’s piles of the stuff back in the caves. They can charge it up with valence; it’s even tuned to the pyr who does it.”

  She perked up, curious about what Rock knew about fairy valence. Dime knew almost nothing.

  Rock shook her head. “The valence stuff, it’s too much for me to try and understand. I stick to regular Intel, like who pyrsi are and what they’re up to.

  “Anyway, cloak won’t help you here. Doesn’t even look like a fairy cloak; theirs are separated in back, with long scarves that flutter when they fly. They’re fun to watch, when you get the chance. And, no, draping that sack over your backpack does not look like wings. It would just read as deceptive to the pyrsi here, and you don’t want that.”

  Rock raised a finger and let it fall to point at Dime’s bag. “On top of all that, fairies are even more serious about ‘taking’ than we are. They’ll throw you in a metal box, but they won’t take your backpack. That would be the Violence.

  “You want my opinion? Just be who you are. The Dime I know would stuff that cloak in a fabric donation bin and never look back.”

  Dime still couldn’t believe any of this. “You’re going to tell me how you know so much about fairies, right?” She was really cranking on this one. Dime had learned first-hand how the IC took to questions about the Fo-ror. The only time she’d brought them up, she’d been buried in paperwork for turns and never returned to the field.

  So how in Ada-ji was Rock learning about them? It couldn’t be her assignments. Last she’d heard, Rock had fallen from favor within the IC a couple of cycles back after a run-in with Atti. Who hadn’t had at least one run-in with the dispatcher, in fairness, but rumor said it was a bad one.

  She’d heard afterward the agent had been subdued by the leadership, given the same sort of uninteresting assignments they’d both had when starting out. Certainly not off researching fairies.

  She’d wondered why Rock would put up with that. Except, she wouldn’t. “The incident with Atti. What changed?”

  Rock raised her eyebrows. Dime felt surprised, even all these cycles later, how she could read the fe’pyr like a book. A little warmth lit, and she was starting to appreciate that they really were here together. The company made her feel more confident, if she were to admit it to herself.

  “We’re not both here by coincidence,” Dime said, trying again. “Let’s just drop the walls and work together.” She almost said, like last time, but then remembered it wouldn’t be quite like last time. She avoided meeting Rock’s eyes.

  Rock laughed. “Direct as always. Yeah, I’m game. Friends, then. Full trust?”

  “Full trust.” She finally looked up, and the way Rock turned toward her, she had a feeling she’d just signed a bigger contract than she realized.

  “Know Ji’Nar?” Rock started.

  Dime thought. “Uh, yeah, I think so. Didn’t really connect.”

  “Good,” Rock snapped. “Ve’s a crap pile. We were sent out together to see why a village was getting an increase in visitors. Sometimes it’s just a good medic in town, or sometimes we have to keep an eye on one of those soft-professing holy pyrsi.”

  “A what?”

  “You know, like a pyr that speaks in low tones and talks about peace and harmony, and manages to never pay for a meal, and soon everyone starts thinking xe’s some sort of traveling messenger of Sol, even though the pyr never made any claims to be. Anyway. Not the point. In this case, I get there and figure out pretty quick there’s a book in town. Written by the fairies, they say. Some farmers have it in their cottage.

  “We get there and imply we’re interested, but Nar starts getting super aggressive and I’m pretty sure the couple pegs him for Circles off the go. Nar doesn’t realize this but goes ahead with standard procedure and casually separates them. Ve strolls outside with the ma’pyr.” She made a walking gesture with her fingers.

  “I’m left talking to the fe’pyr. She admits she’s scared by the attention and mentions how much she doesn’t want a run in with the Circles. Again, I think she suspects I’m with them, or she wouldn’t be saying it. She trusts me.” Rock winked at Dime. “Who wouldn’t? Or maybe she’s gambling on me over Nar.

  “Anyway, I promise I’ll look out for her. She shoves the book at me from under a seat and says please just take it. Realizing she considers this part of my promise, I do. I push it into my bag, and she relaxes a little.

  “I start to ask her how she got it, but then Nar tromps in and says the ma’pyr wouldn’t tell ver crap. Like, right in front of them. I imply the same. I mean, she didn’t.”

  That’s not how—

  “Nar says we’re wasting our time and we should all go back to Lodon, basically threatening them with a hemsa for not answering our questions. There’s not even an act anymore; it’s obvious ve’s an agent. The ma’pyr starts to panic and the fe’pyr interrupts and says, go ahead, search the place.

  “We do. I stay right with Nar. Look in every corner. Don’t find anything since the book’s in my bag. Ve keeps saying there’s a secret compartment somewhere. I say, it’s not here and we can go back now, since I don’t want to spend another bell with the pyr. I tell ver maybe we got bad info.

  “Ve insists on staying. Says we need to ask around the village. Later, a quick storm blows through, and what do you know, the cabin burns down.”

  Dime hissed.

  “The couple had stepped out,” Rock hurried to say. “They were safe. I mean, all their possessions destroyed and Sol knows what trauma. But physically safe.

  “When Nar isn’t looking, I give them what unsigned notes I had and said to get away. The fe’pyr won’t look at me anymore; I think she’s terrified I’ll tell about the book. They’re both crying. The ma’pyr’s worried the fairies did it. I said, but what did the book show?

  “I mean, of course I’d looked at it; it was just some storybook, not even like anything interesting. But I asked again, what did the book show? Was it wicked? The couple’s too spooked; they won’t even talk to me. I swore I’d help them, any way I could. Looking back, I didn’t even mean them. I meant, all of it.

  “I’m still not even sold on the fairies, at this point. I’m still thinking some tripped-out artist made the thing in the first place. But the charred wood of that house; that I’m not forgetting.”

  Her next words were more to herself. “Everything I’d ever believed changed that turn.”

  Dime wanted to say she knew how that felt, but Rock had moved on with the story.

  “I confront Nar, of course. Ve acts all surprised and sad, oh the lightning struck, or oh, maybe the wicked fairies did it. Whole time ve smells like fuel.” She turned right at Dime. “Ve did it. I am certain.”

  Rock paused. Dime was concerned how much the event still seemed to affect her, but seeing someone’s home destroyed . . . witnessing an overt act of the Violence. Being there and not stopping it. Hard to say how that would affect a pyr. A turn ago, she had believed there was no contact with the Fo-ror, while pyrsi like Ella and Rock and, it turned out, herself were living with the scars of that myth. She—

  “Got back and had a talk with Atti after the next Call to Light. Made a scene, as he put it. Because saying things you don’t want to hear is always a scene, right? Anyway, I tell him his pal, Nar, committed the harmed-out straight-up Violence, and he said it would be a crime to accuse ver without proof. He aloofly whispers that the fairies did it, I mean, not even like he means it. The others couldn’t hear that part, so I raised it louder.

  “Basically, I’m just starting to get this
creeped out feeling that we use ‘the fairies’ as an excuse for our own sharts, so I flip it on him and say loud enough, did you say fairies? So they’re back now? Wouldn’t that be a massive issue? I mean, I didn’t see any. Maybe we oughta go just check them out and see, and maybe they can tell us nope, they weren’t there; it was just Nar. Maybe the fairies aren’t the problem here.

  “I implied I knew some things, maybe even had evidence. Atti switches away from that real fast, and tells me off in front of everyone else. Said I’d twisted his words and I had three bells to decide whether I worked there anymore.”

  Dime had heard a bit of this story. Atti hadn’t just told her off; he’d berated her in front of a whole lot of agents. Belittled her. Like he always did. Agitation gripped her. It’s why she quit. But Rock hadn’t quit. Ah, Sol. Dime looked up, eager to hear what it was she was missing.

  “I decided to quit. Make my own scene of it. But someone stopped me.” Rock squinted. “So, we have our trust pact, but that doesn’t mean I have to reveal things that don’t need to be revealed. Suffice to say, someone recruited me. Someone who actually cares about preventing the Violence, rather than shoveling over it.”

  She had an idea where this was going, but the thought stunned her. Was it Ador? The Free Winds? Would he be so bold to pluck agents? He’d always been so respectful of Dime’s career and boundaries. Part of her hoped Rock wouldn’t say it was Ador. Part of her hoped that she would.

  “‘Dawn’s Circle,’ they call it. Started by one of the old Lights. No, Sala doesn’t know. It’s run from within now. Invitation only. A shadow Circle dedicated to understanding the fairies, to be ready when the truce crumbles—or ready when pyrsi are willing to break it. Hopefully for the right reasons.

  “Dime. Fairies are—”

  Rock’s face told it all. She already knows. That’s why she’s telling me.

  They stared at each other, their expressions naked, yet neither broaching the topic. Dime tried to do it, yet her words felt locked inside. Like a prison.