Kanna [https://shadowsprey.com/wp-content/uploads/story-images/01_22_Kanna-S2.png]

GEGENES

The Governor’s murals continued into the hall, their shifting colors calling to Kanna. As they trekked to the dining room the unfinished paintings became rough outlines and slashes of charcoal, empty suggestions of stories that were threateningly close to familiar. Astar’s steady hand in the crook of her elbow kept Kanna moving forward through the incessant pull of the images.

At the threshold of the dining hall, they finally ceased. The dining hall itself was washed in a solid, imposing merlot, though subtle fissures in the walls hinted at hidden entrances. The cavernous room boasted a barrel vaulted ceiling, and a dark wood table stretched through its center.

A servant detached himself from the wall to pull out Astar’s seat at the left of the head of the table. Before the man could scurry around the side, Kanna dragged the chair opposite Astar out and slouched into it gracelessly.

The man fumbled, attempted to recover and aid in adjusting the seat, but Kanna cast a glare at him and he jumped back.

The entire place set Kanna’s nerves alight. The Governor’s manse was dripping with color and sound. Even the walls screamed at her, causing her head to pound and her side to ache.

Her fingers itched for her knives but Astar had taken them, citing etiquette.

Isco settled next to Astar just as the wall opposite of where they had entered slid open.

“Welcome!”

The Governor’s voice boomed in the near empty hall. Astar looked over her shoulder and back at Kanna, rolling her eyes in a kind of apology.

It didn’t bother Kanna. She didn’t mind loud people. Either it was because they were hiding something or because they couldn’t, and it was honest in its own way. Everything about Hautman was false, from the white of his teeth to the frozen grin that pulled at the corners of his lips, contorting his face but never quite reaching his eyes.

After settling into his seat, Hautman placed his hands on the table.

Kanna glared at the paw that had invaded her space and shifted her weight, dragging her chair against the floor with a long screech.

Hautman cleared his throat, which served as an unvoiced command for the servants to begin their tasks.

The longer Kanna sat in the dining hall, the more uncomfortable she became. She didn’t like the way the dark walls shifted as the servants entered and disappeared, shuffling through hidden pathways, and the constant movement and interchanging of staff made it difficult to discern their locations or intentions.

She also found it difficult to tell them apart from one another. They were dressed in matching outfits, dark skinned and mostly grey-haired. She tried to track them by their eyes but they were either green or deep brown, all worn in the same way, and their faces seemed to shift and interchange into an unbroken obscurity.

A woman circled the table, setting down silver mugs at each seat, followed by a man who poured dark wine. Kanna reached for the heavy cup, the thick hammered metal cool to the touch. She watched Hautman take a deep pull from his before lifting her own for a drink.

“So, Isco,” Hautman said, his voice booming. “I am curious to know how my dear friends in Adur are faring now.”

Isco choked on his drink, gulping air to clear his throat. “Yes,” he croaked out, “our friends.”

Astar kept her eyes on her drink. “Your friends in the Cardea?” she asked lightly, not moving her gaze.

The name stuck in Kanna’s ears, clanged around empty spaces and lit on broken pathways.

“Yes,” Isco said, “They are… fine?”

Astar set her cup down, the silver hitting the wood with a solid thud.

She leaned her elbow on the table, turning her head to face him. “I thought you were from the Camarilla Group.”

“I, yes, them, too, as well,” Isco fumbled, “are fine.”

Astar leaned to view Isco better. “You came to see the Theatre, right?”

“He came because I invited him, daughter,” Hautman interrupted. “I wanted to meet the One Who Lived.”

Kanna turned her eyes back to the table. She still hadn’t figured out her place in this beyond being a trophy to display or a witness beyond Hautman’s wealth, and she had no desire to join a conversation that could continue just as easily without her.

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“That’s a pretty ominous title,” Astar said. Her tone was suspicious, but Astar was nothing if not curious. Astar saw people as mysteries waiting to be solved. Kanna was Astar’s favorite project and, so far, her greatest failure.

Isco shifted. “So is ‘the Harbinger,’” he said, deflecting attention.

Kanna traced a finger along the gold embroidery that bordered the cloth over the table. She could feel the attention in the room on her. “I did not give it to myself,” she said.

“That’s right,” Astar said, reclaiming the conversation and drawing attention away from Kanna once more. “I gave it to her. Neat, don’t you think?”

“It has been great for the Theatre, daughter,” Hautman said, “But I was speaking.”

Astar crossed her arms at her chest and leaned back heavily in her chair.

Plates were laid in front of the group, each one portioned and set. Kanna frowned and lifted her fork. She pushed the meal around, the metal tines scraping against the plate. The rich smells curdled in her stomach.

“As I was saying,” Hautman said after waving away the servants. “Years ago, I had a bit of a rapport with a group in Adur, the Cardea. They did great things, really helped the people. Of course, most of their research was about loas.”

Isco lifted his fork and busied himself with his plate.

“I guess the Solarians didn’t like that, though,” Hautman continued. He sighed, his smile turning into a bereaved grimace. “They sent in their Palamidia and wiped out most of the Cardea. An entire faction just gone, slaughtered, isn’t that right Isco?”

The silence coming from Isco was palpable. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.

Kanna put her fork down. She straightened it, lining the bottom up with the edge of the table. She reached for the cup as Astar did and pressed the metal against her mouth, tilting it back. She kept her lips sealed, not allowing the liquid to pass.

Astar set the cup down, and Kanna followed the movement. Astar propped her elbows on the table and twined her fingers. She rested her chin on them but stared into her cup.

“Yes, Father, please continue,” she said, disdain dripping from her words.

Astar’s boldness brought a small smile to Kanna’s features, but she was distracted by the designs on the tablecloth. She continued to trace the gold threads. She knew they didn’t mean anything, but she thought that they should.

“Isco here was the lone survivor of the Palamidia’s attack,” Hautman said.

The gold whirls on the cloth blurred at the seams. Kanna slid her eyes to the side when new servants appeared. They didn’t carry themselves like the others, their eyes alert and aware. They stepped to the side after entering and kept their backs against the wall.

“Lucky for me, they sent a gift many years ago.”

Isco’s attention snapped to Hautman. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, medicus?” Hautman responded, though it wasn’t a question. “I believe it was of your design.”

Kanna’s lips tingled, then burned. She pressed her lips against them.

It was familiar.

Hautman leaned over, his voice unnervingly close. “How was your drink, Harbinger? I added a little something, just for you. Of course, I didn’t trust that you would drink. But a loa only needs to touch it. We, what do you call us? Ungifted? Aren’t so susceptible.”

The walls around her pulsed.

Somewhere deep in her shattered mind, a memory shuddered and threatened to wake.

Isco shot to his feet. “What have you done?” he demanded.

Kanna shut her eyes tight, covering her mouth with her hand. Her fingers didn’t want to move. A phantom of pain shot through her hands, and she could almost hear the sound of bones snapping again.

She stood, her hands tangling in the silk of the gown and coming up empty. The nude fabric was like a skin she couldn’t move in. The heavy chair she had sat in fell back as the new servants rushed forward.

Keepers, not broken cogs like the others. She should have known, should have been better.

Kanna’s instinct had always been to fight.

She ducked under the first guard’s arm and tried to roll away, but he stepped on the folds of her dress. Her legs tangled in it, her joints becoming looser every second.

“Did you really think me such a fool?” Hautman said, his voice rising as he stood. “As if I wouldn’t recognize one of your kind?”

Astar screamed, leaping from her chair and rushing to Kanna, but another guard grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms and dragging her away as she kicked the air.

“All these stories passed around Lifrasir are meant to keep us in line,” Hautman continued.

Kanna yanked the fabric of the dress and it ripped, tripping the guard that had held it in place. She made it to her feet.

“You are nothing, Harbinger,” Hautman was screaming now, his fists slamming against the wood. “You are human, like the rest of us.”

Arms wrapped around Kanna’s waist and pulled her down into a tackle. Two others grabbed her arms. She bucked against them but their weight kept her pinned. She couldn’t get her limbs to align, couldn’t get them to do the only thing they had ever been good for and fight.

Isco leaped across the table, the plates scattering and drinks spilling.

“You’ll bring him down on us all!” he shouted.

He tried to pull at one of the guards that had Kanna pinned, but another shoved him back into the heavy table.

“You don’t understand,” Isco said, his voice panicked and pleading. “He’ll come for her.”

There was a sharp sting in her neck.

Kanna’s body stopped listening first.

Then her mind stopped.

The darkness moved across her vision, then closed in, and there was nothing.