The Sleeper and the Silverblood

Kitara wasted no time gathering everyone together. She reached out to Devika almost immediately, who said she’d start compiling information in the library.

Declan and Zayne went to Alasdair next, explaining the situation in low tones. He seemed equally relieved and exasperated at the turn of events but didn’t object when Robert told him to get some sleep before they attempted anything.

Ilythia refused to allow Cornelius to take her back to Valëtyria, saying she’d been trapped there long enough, and she wanted to know everything as it happened, not after the fact. Cornelius, while happy to have his wife back, finally wrangled a compromise in the form of a comprehensive Healer who remained nearby to monitor Ilythia’s recovery. Five decades in a comatose state couldn’t be healed overnight or even in a few days, immortal or not.

Reluctantly, Robert parted ways with Kenric, who returned to the AIDO’s infirmary for evaluation and monitoring. He did, however, insist on having his comms returned to him so he could get caught up on what he’d missed. Robert returned to the war room with Phoebe, who had her own number of communications to return.

Baylen remained close to Kitara, disappearing now and again to take mysterious phone calls or handle issues that cropped up within his network. Kitara pretended not to overhear some of the darker things he spoke of when he didn’t completely ethervesce from the facility to take a phone call.

We’re coming, Storm. Hang on just a little longer.

It felt good to have a plan, even if the plan contained no more than a bare-bones outline and filling in the blanks would have to happen in the moment.

Eight days after Storm’s abduction, Kitara, Devika, Alasdair, Declan, Zayne, and Baylen congregated in the library again. Kitara tried to ignore the twisting pain in her heart at the notable absence among them.

Currently, Devika and Declan argued over the plan Baylen, Declan, and Kitara had concocted.

“He’ll never buy it,” Devika was saying, her hands on her hips. “It’s too easy. Too…convenient.”

“He left a note,” Declan countered. “Strictly demanding the trade. Why wouldn’t he buy it?”

“He knows the AIDO would never willingly turn her over!” Devika rounded on Kitara, who had laid out an assortment of weapons and was mulling over her options. “I can’t believe you agreed to this!”

“He’s a Guardian,” Kitara replied without diverting her attention from her various blades. “Bona fide and seen out with Storm. If Scarlet has Itzal’s ear, she’ll recognize him.”

“It’s a risk,” Alasdair conceded, looking up from his own collection of items on the library table. But where Kitara considered weapons, he organized various tech to arm the three of them with. “The vampiress could just as easily say he’s Storm’s friend. Kitara’s ally.”

“Which is why we have to make this convincing.” Baylen turned from the bookshelf he studied in Devika’s office. “And the Captain must be the most convincing.”

Kitara grimaced. She had objected to this part of the plan. Upon their arrival, none of them could clue Storm in. His reaction—however and wherever they found him—had to be genuine. “I still think we’re risking Declan unnecessarily. Storm already threatened to kill him once.”

The Guardian snorted and leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up on the table. “You let me worry about that.”

“Get your feet off my table,” Devika complained, shoving at him.

He obliged, letting them fall to the floor with a heavy thud. “Storm’s been their captive for eight days, Kitara. He probably won’t be in any shape to hurt me much.”

Kitara’s breath caught. While she appreciated the Guardian’s blunt honesty during the planning phase, the reminder that they didn’t know the details of Storm’s current condition still opened up a hollowness in her chest.

“These two,” she said instead, pointing at a pair of her favorite knives. “They’ll be the easiest for you to get in and pass to me. The trigger sheaths take a little getting used to, though. The handle ejects into your palm first, so you have to be prepared to grab it and either switch your grip or wield it underhanded.”

Devika shook her head, worrying her bottom lip. “I still don’t like you going in unarmed.”

“If the Captain escorts an armed captive into their midst,” Baylen said mildly, “that will truly give them away. And I guarantee they’ll search her.”

Declan leaned forward to examine the blades Kitara had set aside for him. “Can’t believe I’m getting to handle Sleeper weapons,” he said almost reverently. “I’ll need to practice with them before we go.”

“Speaking of practice—here.” Alasdair held out something like a welded pair of arm braces to Kitara. “Try these.”

She slipped them on, stifling her unease when blue lights flickered to life along their length, and the cuffs tightened around her wrists.

“Work on getting them off,” Baylen instructed, observing them all with crossed arms. “They’re similar but still different from Ostragarn’s. You need to get them off without making a big show of it. If you lose your grip on your power and they see it, Itzal may kill you without a second thought.”

“Or Storm,” Kitara gritted out as shadow pooled in her palms.

“Or him.” Baylen nodded, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. He turned to the Engineer. “Take them off and put them on behind her back. She needs to be able to do it without seeing them. No telling how Ostragarn will truss her up.”

Kitara and Alasdair both frowned, but they complied without argument.

Zayne looked up from the stack of texts he helped Devika sort through. “Why not just send her with them on?” he asked. “You said it yourself; she’s a captive. Captives don’t walk in of their own free will.”

“Not a bad idea,” Baylen said, rubbing his chin. “Though it’s just as likely they’ll want them removed so they can put their own on her.”

“But if they don’t, it’ll be easier for her to get those off than a completely foreign piece of tech,” the Ambassador pointed out.

Baylen nodded thoughtfully. “True. It’ll depend on what we encounter when we get there.” He glanced at the Historian. “Devika, have you found anything?”

She shook her head, frowning. “I’ve read through the entire genealogy—I don’t see an ‘Itzal’ anywhere in the Ninthëvel family.”

“He probably changed his name, or at least adopted an alias,” Alasdair mused as he watched Kitara attempt to undo the cuffs behind her back. “Nope, I can see the shadow. Start over.”

Exasperated, Kitara flexed her fingers and began again.

“Not unlikely,” Baylen replied to the Engineer. “Most of my Fallen and Valorn contacts adopted new identities after their…rehoming.”

Declan snorted as he tested the trigger mechanism on Kitara’s vambraces. “Nice way to put it.”

“What’s Blake’s real name?” Kitara asked, fighting to maintain a neutral expression as she tried to thread her shadowy power through the mechanism of the cuffs.

Baylen raised an eyebrow. “You know I won’t tell you that.”

“Worth a shot,” she grumbled, wincing a little as she rolled a shoulder.

“Too obvious,” Baylen stopped her. “Again.”

“Fuck,” she muttered.

“There’s another source to ask about Itzal,” Devika ventured. “If he is a Fallen Ninthëvel, she might know.”

“I still think getting her insight on all of this would be wise,” Zayne added, turning a page without looking up.

The rest of them glanced at Baylen, who shrugged. “If she comes, so will the High Councilor. I’d rather not be on his radar more than necessary.”

“Can’t you do the disappearing thing Kitara can do?” Declan asked. “Just…be invisible or whatever.”

Baylen shook his head. “It’s not that simple. First, the trait was common, but not guaranteed. I don’t possess that power. Second, the rest of you can’t sense her, but I can. The same way Ilythia could feel me preparing to ethervesce out of the room the other day.”

“Is it why Storm and I could sense the other’s aura so strongly?” Kitara asked, maintaining her stoic expression as one of the mechanisms in the cuffs gave way.

Baylen side-eyed her. “I don’t know, actually. I could sense him, same as you—it’s why I suspected who he was in the beginning. But what you’ve described…I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

“Ask Ilythia,” Zayne sing-songed quietly.

“Not everyone is as diplomatic as you, Zayne,” Declan said, then swore as he attempted to trigger Kitara’s blade into his palm and nicked himself. “Fuck!”

“Special compound,” Kitara told him. “Has to be. Never know which immortals you might face, and some demons have particularly tough hides.”

He shook out his hand. “Where’s a Healer when you need one?”

They all went silent at that, remembering who—and where—their preferred Healer was.

With a sigh, Baylen extended his hand. “Let me.”

Declan eyed him warily. “No offense, B, but you gotta woo a guy a little more before I’ll let you start digging around in my aura.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Meathead,” Devika muttered.

“Nerd,” the Guardian shot back, unperturbed. “It’ll be healed by the time we leave.”

A clatter on the floor made them all lift their heads.

Kitara raised her hands, splaying her fingers wide. “Done,” she said, then rubbed her wrists.

“Nice.” Declan’s smile was pleased…and a little feral. “I can’t wait to actually see you in action—I was a bit paralyzed last time. Is it weird I’m excited?”

“Yes,” the rest of them chorused.

“Let’s go through it again,” Alasdair spoke up as Declan reloaded Kitara’s blades into their sheaths. “Baylen will ethervesce the three of you into Ostragarn.”

“Somewhere close, but not so close they’ll wonder how we got past their sentries,” Baylen said, nodding.

The Engineer focused on Declan. “You’ll go in with Kitara and Itzal’s note.” He slid the ominous black paper across the table, where the General’s red demand glared at them from its surface.

“And a High Council response,” Zayne continued, tapping his finger on another document bearing the AIDO’s golden griffin seal. “Saying you’re there at their behest.”

“Meanwhile,” Alasdair glanced up at Baylen, “you’ll make your way inside too, as backup.”

“And to look for Storm elsewhere,” the Netherling replied, nodding. “No telling where they’ve got him stowed away—better we can get him out first before I retrieve Kitara and Captain Seanste.”

“You still haven’t heard from Blake?” Kitara’s voice oozed distress.

“Give him time,” Baylen reassured her. “He’s a top member of my organization for a reason.”

Kitara’s original declaration to Scarlet so many weeks ago had proven true; the bartender did know everything. Baylen owned both The Sanguine Queen and The Lantern, relying on the people he installed there to glean rumors and report back to him.

Blake wasn’t just a bartender—he was the closest thing Baylen had to a right hand, and they’d been working together for nearly a century. Despite Baylen’s refusal to tell her much more, with the timelines he’d provided, Kitara suspected Blake was another Valëtyrian Felled by the accident that Felled her own mother.

Baylen would neither confirm nor deny when she asked, however, and considering how carefully he protected information, she was unsure whether that implied an answer or not.

Still, Blake was the only one Baylen trusted enough to investigate Storm’s whereabouts. The news of the silverblood’s capture hadn’t spread, meaning Itzal hadn’t let the information escape. Whatever he was doing, he, like Baylen, played it very close to the chest.

“Baylen finds Storm,” Alasdair said, drumming his fingers on the tabletop absentmindedly. “And gets him out.”

“And then comes to get us the hell out too,” Declan put in.

Kitara glanced sideways at the Guardian. An extra facet existed for that step of the plan—one she, he, and Baylen had agreed on together.

They’d decided it before entering the library, opting to keep it to themselves so as not to worry the others.

“…If you see an opportunity to get them out but not me, do it,” Kitara told Baylen quietly in Storm’s quarters that morning. “I’m resigned to a short lifespan: Sleepers expect it.”

“And I’m hardly gonna let her show me up in that department,” Declan put in, leaning forward from his seat in one of Storm’s armchairs, as serious as she’d ever seen him. “The highest honor a Guardian can achieve is dying in defense of their charges.”

Baylen hadn’t looked happy. “I will wait for an opportune time to get all of you out,” he argued.

“And if that doesn’t happen…you should only come for me alone if Storm and Declan are both gone, understand?” Kitara insisted, ignoring the pain the thought sent slicing through her chest. “Otherwise, if I’m not in a position to be saved, if you can get the two of them out…”

He sighed. “Cut losses and go. I understand.”

“Promise me, Maker. Explicitly.”

Grimly, Baylen nodded. “If circumstances do not allow me to safely retrieve you all, and I see an opportunity to save Storm and the Captain, I will do so.”

“And?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “And I will leave you behind if I have no other choice.”

“And?”

“And I will only leave with you alone if Storm and the Captain are already dead.”

“The same goes for me,” Declan said gruffly. “We’re going in vastly outnumbered and relying on a power Kitara’s only recently started experimenting with—no offense,” he added, side-eying her. “But she and Storm both have extraordinary abilities, and they mean something to Valëtyria. Don’t try to save me if doing so will risk their safe extraction.”

Kitara and Declan had exchanged a long look then, neither arguing with the other’s decision. She saw in his face the same truth he probably saw in hers: neither expected all four of them to return alive. Storm was the priority: the last remaining silverblood in Valëtyria.

Now, in the library, Declan’s blasé attitude despite those truths reassured Kitara he would convincingly play his role: as the Guardian tasked with facilitating the trade of her life for Storm’s.

Hopefully, Storm would forgive him.

“Last thing,” Alasdair said, holding out a handful of tech resembling silver stud earrings. “For the three of you.”

Kitara, Baylen, and Declan leaned forward, each taking one.

The Guardian examined it. “Thanks, ’Dair,” he mumbled as he studied the tech. “Uh…what is it?”

“One of Robert’s inventions,” Alasdair said. “Though he can’t make them anymore…” He glanced around at them, then tapped his ear. “You’ll need it pierced, though.”

Declan frowned. “Are we adopting a tech-head vibe now?” he complained, but no real heat laced the words.

“You’ve seen Rob’s piercings?”

“Yeah, they’re hard to miss.”

“They’re cross-dimensional communication and tracking devices. They use your auras like the AIDO’s system does.”

“Okay,” Kitara said slowly, looking up from the tiny stud in her hand. “And these are superior to traditional tech because…?”

“It allows multi-way mindspeaking.”

Kitara blinked. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Naturally? It’s not. Technologically?” Alasdair shrugged. “He taught me how to make them. It means the three of you can stay in touch at once. It isolates communication specifically, so you’re not risking bleeding emotion through your thoughts either.” He stated it like the blasé use of technopathy was no big deal.

The Sleeper stilled. “Why aren’t these standard issue?”

“We have to make them in aura-specific sets for different groups. Why do you think Robert has so many?”

Kitara recalled the numerous studs in Robert’s ears and nodded in understanding.

“So it’s like…our regular comm units,” Declan said slowly, closing one eye and squinting at the tiny device. “But…in our minds. So we won’t make any noise.”

“Exactly. And you can turn them on and off or take them out completely, so you’re not stuck in each other’s minds all the time. Just like comm units.”

“Brilliant, ’Dair.”

The Engineer didn’t acknowledge the compliment. “These aren’t paired with you three yet, so we’ll have to do that now.”

“Does it interfere with or…relay regular mindspeaking?” Kitara asked, brow furrowed. “Like…if I need to try and mindspeak with Storm—”

“We said we wouldn’t do that,” Baylen interjected, scrutinizing the miniature technology like Declan.

“I know. But if we’re close and I’m checking the bond, if he’s being tortured—”

Alasdair shook his head. “It won’t interfere, and it won’t relay. It’s like…using a separate channel on the comms. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. Using them at the same time will give you a wicked headache, trying to differentiate between the different lines of communication. Trust me.”

Baylen looked up. “And if we don’t want them?”

The others shot him uneasy glances.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Kitara asked, frowning.

He leaned back in his chair. “Because I have to assume if it uses the same tech as the AIDO, you’ll need to register my aura to your systems. I’m not keen on the idea.”

Alasdair huffed an exasperated sigh. “Rob said you’d probably object. I’m supposed to tell you…” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling for a moment. “I’m supposed to tell you he explicitly promised your aura won’t be permanently logged. That it’s…a ‘thank you.’”

Baylen mulled this over as he studied the tech. “I suppose Robert considers it an expression of gratitude for restoring his partner.”

“That’s the impression I got,” Alasdair confirmed.

“It’s not like we don’t already know who you are,” Kitara pointed out. “And you can always take it out again. Having multi-way silent communication is an advantage I didn’t expect.”

When Baylen still didn’t seem convinced, her tone hardened. “You said you meant it, Baylen. That means you may have to take a risk for once.”

Silence fell as they waited for him to respond.

“A thousand years, and I’ve never directly interfered with an Ostragonian ruler’s agenda,” Baylen muttered finally. “Not even three months knowing you, I’ve parlayed with the High Councilor, healed an AIDO Commander, and now plan to directly infiltrate the heart of Ostragarn’s stronghold. At this rate, I’ll be working for the AIDO before the year’s out.”

“If you’re having second thoughts, now’s the time to let me know,” Kitara hissed.

“I’m merely remarking on how times change.”

“Save your introspection for a later time. We’re on a clock here.”

Baylen side-eyed her, then sighed. “Very well. Sync it.”

Alasdair nodded, then pulled out his tablet. “Any of you have piercings already?”

“I do,” Kitara said. “I can wear it like a normal earring?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t waste any time, threading it through her ear. Alasdair studied her for a long moment, and then, whatever he did, she knew when he did it as the stud hummed in her ear and she felt momentarily lightheaded.

“It’ll take a minute to get used to,” Alasdair said, watching her reaction closely. “The other two need to see the Healers.”

“Let’s get it over with then,” Declan said, standing. “Guess you’re gonna get a good look at our facility after all, B.”

“You forget—I’ve seen more of it than you think,” Baylen said, rising also.

“Don’t remind me,” Alasdair muttered.

The Netherling stilled, looking around the room. “Upon our return,” he said, “it will be best if we depart to my coven. My contacts know to reach me there, and it will be easier to make a speedy departure once we know where we’re headed.”

“I’ll pack a bag,” Declan snarked.

“I’ll let the Councilors know,” Zayne said, reaching for his own tablet.

“And I’ll be setting up comms in the war room,” Alasdair said, nodding. “Dev will be with me.”

Kitara looked up, her brow furrowed. “Is that a good idea?”

“I’m not waiting around to hear about it after the fact,” the Historian said, crossing her arms. “I want to know what’s happening when it happens.”

“Dev—”

“No, Kitara,” her friend bit out. “I’m not waiting around for another dying goodbye. And if you discover new information we didn’t already know, I can be on hand to help immediately. All of this depends on speed, timing, and a ridiculous amount of luck.” She hesitated. “Storm’s my friend too.” Her gaze shifted to Declan. “And so’s the meathead.”

“I’m touched, nerd,” Declan said, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Yeah well, don’t get used to it. And you’d all better come back.” Devika’s dark gaze met Kitara’s again, betraying her anxiety for a moment before she schooled her expression.

Another moment of unspoken promises, of whispered wishes hung between them.

They’d been here before.

Hell, they might end up here again.

If they made it back.

Kitara knew better than to promise something she couldn’t guarantee, instead rising to give her adopted sister a hug. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always, no matter what.”

“I love you too,” Devika whispered. “I know you can’t promise, but—”

“I’m not going down without a fight, Dev,” Kitara murmured into the angel’s hair. “And trust me, if it comes down to that, I’m taking as many of them with me as I can.”

Devika sniffled, tears shining in her eyes as she looked up at the Sleeper. “Guess I can’t hope for more than that.”

“We’d better get going,” Declan grumbled. “Can’t believe ’Dair’s talked me into an earring.”

“Be careful,” Devika said, leaning away from Kitara to glance from him to Baylen. “I mean it.”

“I’m always careful,” Declan said, flashing her an over-bright grin, then he disappeared with Baylen following close behind.

Hang on, Storm. We’re coming.