Yassen [https://shadowsprey.com/wp-content/uploads/story-images/01_26_Yassen-S2.png]

GAOLER, GEGENES

Yassen stared into the mug in front of him. It wasn’t his first draft of the evening by a long shot, and it’s empty companions were clustered on the small table in the corner of the Dirty Trick.

Kanna had stopped by his room before the Governor’s dinner. She’d given him all the coins they’d earned from the previous day’s match and told him to leave town. But something told him that he shouldn’t. She knew something was wrong, and he wanted to help her if he could. She had helped him, in her own way.

Her suspicions that things weren’t quite right had proven true.

That night, Yassen was attacked in his room. He wasn’t sure if they were mercenaries or officials, but he managed to fight his way out and escape by blasting out the wall of his room in the defunct barracks.

Since then he’d kept his head down, but he didn’t leave. He’d gotten a room above the tavern he was currently loitering in, and the next morning he had a message from Astar. It was short and to the point, urging him to meet her here.

There was nothing else in the message. Yassen didn’t know what to make of any of it, but he hoped Astar could help. He hadn’t heard anything from Kanna, and even the Theatre had gone quiet, the stage standing empty for days.

Yassen had sat at their usual table. Kanna always chose the table in the corner, and he took her usual seat. From there, his back was to the wall and he could see the entire tavern. He’d been sipping mug after mug of the fizzy Gegenii brew the bartender had recommended. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, but he needed an excuse to be here.

Halfway through his fifth draft the door to the tavern swung open. The midday light pierced through the dark interior, bathing every sad soul in the room in a harsh cast.

He squinted at the figure as it stepped in, letting the door close of its own volition.

Astar slunk to his table, the other patrons returning to their drinks in the dim. Reaching him, she dropped a wrapped package on the table. It hit the wood with a solid thunk as she slid into the seat across from him in a rustle of silk.

She nodded to Yassen, then signalled to the barkeeper.

They sat in silence, waiting until Astar had her own mug to bend over.

She brought the drink to her lips, cringing when she sipped. “Not a good year,” she said. She put the mug back on the table, sliding it across to Yassen.

“You sent me a message,” he said, replacing his newly emptied drink with the one that Astar offered.

“Yes,” she said. Astar leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She cast a glance over her shoulder before turning to Yassen.

“They’ve drugged her.”

Yassen choked on the brew. He coughed, pounding a fist on his chest to clear his airway.

Astar rolled her eyes and reached over, snatching the drink from him. “No one drugged you.”

“Who did they drug?”

“The dinner was a set up,” she said. “That guy, Isco? He’s from this weird cult in Adur. They sent my father some kind of special drug or something. They got Kanna with it.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Father thinks she’s a spy. I told him he was being ridiculous, but he won’t listen to reason.”

“Is it really so ridiculous?” Yassen found himself asking. “She seems to know a lot about loas, and I’ve never seen anyone fight like she does.”

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Astar sat back in her chair. “Even if she was one of them, how does poking the Palamidia help anyone?”

Yassen shrugged. “A lot of people lost loved ones to them. It makes sense that they’d want revenge.”

“Alright,” Astar said. She shoved back her chair. “I just wanted to see where you stood on this.”

Yassen grabbed Astar’s wrist before she could stand. “I didn’t say I was one of those people.”

She stopped, settling back into her seat. “I don’t know the whole story, but neither does anyone else. All I know is this doesn’t feel right.”

Yassen shifted in his seat, studying his assortment of mugs. He had to agree with Astar. Something about the entire situation was off, like there was something important that was missing.

“He’s going to put her in the Theatre again,” Astar said, “but this time, he doesn’t plan to let her leave alive.”

Yassen scoffed. “Kanna won’t fall on the stage,” he said. “I mean, you’ve seen her. She’s so strong.”

Astar leaned in, her hands on the table. “The drug they gave her, it’s supposed to block a loa’s abilities.”

Yassen tried to remember what Kanna had told him about loas.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, crossing his arms. “You can’t block a person from a part of themselves.”

“Maybe,” Astar said, “but even so, she passed out a dinner. And they threw Isco in the cells with her. If they keep her drugged, she won’t be able to defend herself.”

“That ain’t right at all,” Yassen said, rubbing the back of his head and leaning an elbow on the table. “Wait, why did they throw Isco in?”

“He tried to stop them at the dinner,” Astar said. “He kept yelling about someone coming to get her. Father is forcing him to keep her sedated.”

Yassen’s other elbow joined the first on the table. “This is a real mess.”

Astar nodded. “That’s not all.”

“How can there be more?”

“Father is advertising a once in a lifetime event for the Theatre.”

“Why’s it so special?”

“He means to expose Kanna,” she said. “It’s an execution.”

“He can’t do that,” Yassen said, his voice rising. “He doesn’t even know if she’s really one of them.”

“No,” Astar said, “but do you think it will really matter, once he says she is?”

Yassen crossed his arms, slamming back into his chair with a creak. “What do you need from me?”

“For one,” Astar pushed the package she had come with across the table, “you need to get these to her.”

The package was thin, hastily wrapped in brown fabric. Yassen pulled off the top layer to reveal the mismatched hilts. He dropped the fabric, shoving it back across to Astar. “No way, no,” he said. “Give these back to her.”

“I can’t give them back,” Astar said. She grit her teeth and lowered her voice as she shoved them back to Yassen. “And if I keep them, my father may find them.”

Yassen met Astar’s glare with his own. He gave in first. With a sigh, he slid the knives across the table. “Fine,” he said, “but I don’t like it.”

“At least we agree on that.”

“For two?” he asked.

Astar nodded. “Need you to get a message out. There’s a depot at the rail yard, they should be able to send a signal.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Yassen said.

“I need you to send a message to my friend, Edin. She’ll be able to get us out of here.”

Yassen kept his eyes on the knives. “Is she special, too?”

Astar’s features locked into a frown. “Just do it, Yassen,” she said.

He nodded and she rose from her seat. “Give it a minute before you leave. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious if they see us together.”

With that, Astar left Yassen alone once more.

He reached to the half-filled cup on the table and drained it, slamming it back down. The other cups rattled.

He ran his hands along the knives, not daring to remove the fabric that covered them. They seemed so small in his hands. For the brief time that he had known Kanna, however, they had not left her side. They were a part of her. Taking them from her was like taking a person’s limb.

The chair scraped across the floor as he shoved it back. He tucked the knives into his pack and slung it on his back before moving unsteadily into the bustle of the city streets.