The Sleeper and the Silverblood

Normally, Kitara might have lingered to get an idea of what they discussed and how it played out. But Storm’s appearance and subsequent behavior had rattled her, and now she only wanted to disappear somewhere marginally…safer.

The irony of Baylen representing the safer of the two, despite the Maker butchering and murdering Landon, was not lost on her.

Leaving behind her untouched drink, Kitara gave Blake a nod as she exited the building, which he returned with a grimace she might have described as apologetic.

Once outside in the cool air, she headed for the outskirts of the dark strip.

As she left The Queen, she sent a text.

On my way.

Call it paranoia, but after Storm’s confrontation, she wanted someone knowing to expect her in case the wrong person overheard him.

“…I do care, Kit…”

“…Find yourself a new handler, Kitara. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.…”

Kitara closed her eyes against the spear of pain that lanced through her gut.

“I know who you are…”

He must have found out in Myragos, but how? The High Council sealed the Dark Star Directive with the highest possible security clearance. Silverblood or not, surely he didn’t have access to that? But how else could she explain it?

Baylen’s white hair glowed beneath the light outside The Lantern as he leaned against the wall, clearly waiting for her.

Kitara was almost touched.

He straightened as she approached and held the door for her. “Straight back,” he murmured. “I’ve already got the key.”

She nodded and cut across the small front of the establishment, avoiding eye contact with the patrons as Baylen trailed behind her. He let them into the speakeasy in the back of the bar and chose a booth.

Kitara slid into the pleather seat across from him but wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Was he trying to kill you both?” Baylen asked, signaling a waitress to bring him a drink.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

As if they had his drink prepared ahead of time, the vampire reappeared almost immediately with a martini glass of crimson.

“Are you Valorn?” Kitara asked, scrutinizing the drink. “I would assume so, except…”

“Except what I can do isn’t something you’ve seen before?” he offered. At her nod, he sighed. “No. I’m not Valorn.”

“Then…” Kitara gestured at his glass. “What exactly are you?”

He shrugged. “Something else.”

“Enlightening,” she muttered, sitting back against her seat. “Can you at least tell me how you do it? The…disappearing and reappearing?”

“It is a faster way to travel.”

“So you use portals?”

He side-eyed her. “No. Not exactly.”

“Then…what?”

“Formally, it’s called ‘ethervescence.’ Informally, you might call it ‘teleportation.’”

“That’s exactly the same thing,” she replied, frustrated.

He shook his head. “Using a portal and being the portal are completely different. One is a technology, the other is an ability. Such as your disappearing abilities, I believe.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you know about that, too,” she muttered.

“I’m surprised you don’t, given it was a common ability amongst the Ninthëvel family.”

She blinked. “It was?”

“Your father never showed you how to use it?”

“...Kitty, I need you to listen to me. I need you to hide, and I’m going to show you how…”

She throttled down the memory—her emotions were too raw already. “Once. But how did you know?”

“I’m getting the impression Netherlings know much more about the Ninthëvel family than the Valëtyrians do,” he noted wryly.

“In Valëtyria, they’re enemies best left unremembered. So, no, it’s not exactly in the curriculum.” She looked away. “Traitors and threats…”

“Something the silverblood said?” he asked, a little too innocently.

Her gaze jerked back to him. “What?”

“Traitors and threats, you said.”

“No—I mean, yes, but that’s not what I’m asking. What did you call him?”

“The silverblood?”

“How could you possibly know that?” she asked, exasperated. “Who is your source?”

“He was,” came the reply. “You do know there are only two silverbloods in Valëtyria, don’t you?”

Kitara blinked. “Well, yes, but—”

“His eyes,” Baylen finally clarified. “I had my suspicions before, but tonight confirmed them.”

“His…eyes?”

“Silver. Or didn’t you notice he failed to conceal those this evening?”

Despite Storm’s behavior, despite everything, fear-laced adrenaline shuddered through her. “Stars…do you think anyone else noticed?”

“Hard to say,” Baylen replied. “He had a hoodie on, and it was dark enough, but…”

Kitara dropped her head into her hands. “Fuck.”

“The man nearly got you killed,” Baylen said mildly. “And not because of what you do. If anyone overheard him, if anyone puts two and two together—”

She lifted her eyes to his with a frown. “Eavesdropping that long, were you?”

“I nearly intervened myself toward the end, except Blake got to him first. How did he figure it out, anyway?”

“He was looking into the Doruri.” Kitara cast him a pointed look. “Researching their origins. What Itzal’s doing may relate to how Valëtyria Felled the first of them, the first being—”

“The Ninthëvel family,” Baylen realized. “Of course. Who else knows?”

“No idea, and I can’t exactly ask.”

“I suppose not.”

Kitara shook her head wearily. “I should probably report I’m burned.”

“At the very least, I’d recommend you lie low a while. There is still a price on your head, despite how long it’s been since it was announced. I can keep an ear out for any mention of the Ninthëvel name and let you know if you should disappear more…permanently.”

She considered this as she watched the waitresses flit between the immortal patrons. “Maybe so.”

“Did he learn anything of note other than your…background?”

Kitara relayed what Devika told her, emphasizing how the weaponized formula could end realms, though she didn’t mention Myragos or the Triad of Major Houses specifically. Her friend had explained the associated Myragnar aristocracy, and Kitara still needed time to process what that meant for her—and Storm.

“The most important thing, besides the weaponization,” she concluded, “is the Fallen formula is incompatible with Earth’s atmosphere, which is why they store it here. Do you think Ostragarn’s environment might be different? Could they handle it there?”

“I don’t know,” Baylen muttered darkly when she’d finished. “It would explain why the General is stockpiling manufacturing equipment—human manufacturing equipment. Itzal could be modifying it somehow to work within Earth’s environment, especially since the AIDO is there. And the AIDO—”

“The AIDO protects the crossings between Earth and Valëtyria,” Kitara whispered. “If he wants to destroy Valëtyria, he has to take the AIDO out first.”

“It’s a possibility,” Baylen conceded. “Though it doesn’t explain the rumors of his attempting to restore the existing Fallen.”

“Could the Maker be involved?” Kitara asked. “I mean, he’s called the Maker. You said it yourself, once: the impossible is his specialty. What if they’ve asked him to…help restore the Fallen, maybe rebuild them genetically somehow?”

But Baylen shook his head. “No. The moniker is because he ‘makes things happen,’ not because he builds bodies.”

“Are you sure? What if Erik learned he was doing exactly that, and that’s why the Maker killed him?”

Baylen leaned back. “I beg your pardon?”

Kitara turned to face him head on. “I know he killed Erik. What I can’t figure out is why. I heard it was because he thought Erik might be disloyal, but it doesn’t sound like anyone officially identified him as AIDO. Still, if the Maker killed him to keep him quiet, then left him at the AIDO as a warning…”

“Where did you come up with the notion that the Maker killed him?”

“I have other contacts, you know,” she replied. “Not all of them are as…cryptic as you are.”

The Netherling groaned quietly. “Which means there’s a leak in his organization. Just what I need: another fire to put out.”

“So it’s true?”

“Despite what you think, I try not to lie to you,” Baylen replied mildly. “And…yes. He did.”

“Why?”

“As you mentioned, he questioned Erik’s loyalties.”

“Did he kill him because he was a traitor or a threat?” Kitara asked pointedly.

“A little of both,” Baylen muttered.

“Did you befriend him too? Is that how the Maker learned what Erik knew? Should I expect to meet the same fate now that I’ve done what you wanted?”

Baylen exhaled a frustrated sigh. “No. I’m not the only one in the Maker’s network, Kitara. The Maker may eliminate perceived threats, but I told you—it does me no good to alienate or endanger you.” He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “I’ve been forthright about my expectations. I’ve given you the opportunity to walk away—repeatedly. And yet you seem more willing to forgive one who has repeatedly put you at risk rather than give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“Stop,” Kitara muttered, pain lancing through her chest. “I get it. You’re an outside contact; can you blame me for being cautious?”

“Have you been attacked?” Baylen arched an eyebrow. “Or abducted? Have I announced who you are to this place, deep in what is enemy territory to you?”

“No,” she muttered.

“Then trust I don’t plan to anytime soon. I’ll say it again; I am not your enemy. I am…something else.”

She raised an eyebrow with a wry smile. “A friend?”

“If you’d like. At the very least, we have mutual interests, one of which is averting an interdimensional immortal war waged via biological weaponry or genetically-altered immortals.”

“I suppose so.”

“Suppose nothing,” Baylen retorted. “Consider this for a moment if you still have doubts. My knowing who you are and keeping it a secret would likely endanger me too. If you trust in nothing else, trust in my sense of self-preservation.”

Kitara snorted. “I don’t doubt that. It’s why you do things ‘at your discretion,’ ‘investigate’ things, and don’t share everything with any one person. Telling someone—me, the Maker, anyone—the wrong thing means you end up dead.”

His gaze remained steady. “I’ve lived a long time, Kitara. I don’t plan to die due to a foolish slip of the tongue. You’re smart; you know how things work down here. Information is valued over lives. But if you possess the right information, information no one else has…you’re guaranteed a modicum of additional safety. In fact, I’d argue I’ve put myself much more at risk in your hands than any other. Mutually assured destruction at its finest.”

She sighed. “Touché.”

They fell into a tense silence.

“What will you do now?” Baylen finally asked. “You’ve done everything I asked, and here we both still sit. What happens now?”

“I go home and consider my options,” Kitara replied frankly. “Try to decide who’s a friend…and who’s an enemy.”

“I hope I’ve made that decision a bit easier,” he said mildly. “I’d offer to escort you home, but I don’t think that would win any points in my favor as far as your trust is concerned.”

She offered him a rueful smile. “You know where I live?”

“No, but I imagine you’d rather it remains that way.”

“You imagine correctly.”

“Go home then. You have my number. If you decide it’s still worth the risk to learn what Itzal’s planning, let me know. If you don’t…I’d appreciate it if you let me know that, too.”