Hidden Trump (Bite Back 2) (50 page)

Chapter 51

Bian shoved me behind her without letting go.

“Stop!” she shouted. A moment away from blows, the Warders and Alex hesitated.

“No fucking way you’re putting those on me,” I choked. Images of restraints and windowless cells boiled up into my mind, as fresh as if it were all yesterday. I couldn’t go back to that, no matter what.

“Amber, Alex, wait,” Bian said. “Just wait.”

Alex’s hands were clawed, his fingernails like scimitars and his eyes were golden. This was all about me; I couldn’t let him get into trouble with the Warders, but I couldn’t reach for him. One of my hands was trapped in Bian’s grip and the other strapped up and immobilized.

We teetered on the brink of disaster.

“Alex,” I managed to say, “please.”

He took one step back. Another. Then he and David and Pia were all around me, supporting me.

“Thank you,” Bian said. She turned to the Warders and took a breath. “What do you think you’re doing?”

One of them cleared his throat. “This is an instruction from House Matlal, Diakon Trang. He’s within his rights.”

“Why?”

“Ms. Farrell—”

“
House
Farrell,” Bian interrupted.

The Warder stuttered to a halt. His eyes desperately sought support. No one wanted to help him.

The door to the Assembly chamber opened, and another Warder stepped through. Relief showed on the Warders’ faces.

Ah. Boss Warder. And not my friend, from the look of him. Joy.

“What is the delay?” he said.

“Your staff don’t understand the basic rules of address, Captain,” Bian said. “Once we get it into their heads that this is House Farrell, you can try and explain why you’re trying to put manacles on a House.”

The Warder captain plainly didn’t like being dictated to, but decided to try the ‘orders’ defense.

“I’m afraid we have no choice, Diakon,” he said. “House Matlal has raised serious charges against…House Farrell, and demanded adequate security precautions.”

“Where are we?”

The captain looked confused. “In House Altau.” As soon as he’d said it he saw the trap, but he could hardly deny it was the truth.

“And who is responsible for security in this House?”

“You are, Diakon.”

“Then I will determine what security precautions are necessary.”

“I am responsible for security at the Assembly—”

“Are you? How many security issues have I raised in the last week?”

The captain clearly didn’t know. One of his team came forward with a notepad, trying to be efficient. “Thirty-seven, Captain, Diakon.”

“And how many have been dealt with?”

“They’ve all been looked into, Diakon.”

“That means you’ve answered the phone and entered it into your database. Not a single one resolved. Not one. You’ve sat on your backsides and watched Matlal flood the city with his people.”

“We raised it as a concern—” began the Captain.

She turned her back on them.

“They have formal guidelines on their side,” she muttered in my ear. Her eyes almost pleaded with me. “There is no going back now, Amber. Not for any of us. This is just shit, but we have to compromise. What can you accept? Cuffed to me?”

She could tell my heart rate was through the roof, even if she couldn’t see exactly what was causing it. For that matter, neither could I. I shouldn’t react so extremely.

Get a grip!

I closed my eyes and forced myself to nod.

She turned back. “You.” She pointed at one of them. “Give me those handcuffs.”

“But the requirement—”

“Is dealt with if she’s handcuffed to me. Or are you going to claim, here in House Altau, that I am not sufficient? That the Diakon of House Altau is not acceptable? Because if you are, I’m calling you out, right here, right now.”

No one said anything. I kept my eyes closed. The chill of the metal circled my wrist, and the snap of the lock was loud in the silence.

I let Bian lead me stumbling forward. I was trying to stop the wailing inside from slipping out.

Chapter 52

They split us up. Bian and I went forward while the others were kept in the back of the Assembly room. I twisted around, but the rest were all but lost in the gloom around the entrance.

In front of us was a brightly lit arena. We sat, handcuffed together, on conference chairs at the edge of this open space in the middle of the room.

So this was the Assembly of the Athanate. Forty-two seats arranged in three tiered rows on either side of the central area. The body that had my life in its hands.

Skylur sat at the head on his peacock throne, his face completely unreadable. Matlal was in the middle on the right. That was the Basilikos side. Arvinder sat three seats away from him, still part of Basilikos.

I recognized a number of the representatives. A little of the tension leaked from me. I had danced with most of them at the charity ball. Was it just a week ago? Was that going to count in my favor?

Maybe not, the way you dance.

Thanks, Tara!

She helped. I took deep breaths and tried to focus.

Eight seats were empty. To either side of Skylur were screens for absent representatives to join the Assembly by teleconference. Three were blank. Maybe Romero and two others?

Behind us, a huge projection screen hung from the ceiling.

To our right sat an elderly couple, casually dressed and largely ignoring the proceedings. The Adepts, I assumed.

Bian nudged me and looked upwards. Cameras were mounted above the four corners of the seating, looking down onto the representatives.

“Skylur’s little surprise,” murmured Bian. “Secure real-time broadcast of the proceedings to every Athanate House in the world. That’s why things have been delayed. He had to bulldoze it through.”

I guessed that meant Basilikos couldn’t misrepresent the proceedings, but it struck me as a risky move.

There was a buzz of discussion which did not die away. I felt almost every eye in the place was on me, but in here, I couldn’t read the faces as I had with their staff outside. I gave them back what they gave me, fighting down the panic, keeping my face as blank as theirs.

This had gotten beyond an oath ceremony long ago, with complaints from Matlal about me. But the intensity of the inspection, here and outside, made me realize that every single one of them had heard there was something to be discussed about my Blood, and what that meant to them. I brought change to the changeless. Behind the masks, there would be the same emotions I had seen outside.

It was cold, and I shivered a little in my wet, stained clothes.

Trying to focus on what they were saying, I realized all the conversation was in Athanate. The bar just got higher.

“Basilikos are trying to disrupt this before we even start,” Bian whispered to me. “It’s important you don’t speak until I tell you. And keep that blank face, Round-eye.”

That was easy. Think court-martial.

Skylur nodded to her. Bian stood and waited while silence slowly fell.

“This issue will be discussed in English,” she said and sat back down.

The place erupted. I think even her own party—our party—were affronted by her statement. I sat there and kept quiet.

When the shouting died down, a Basilikos representative spoke, in Athanate.

As soon as he finished, Bian stood. “Precedent,” she said and sat down.

Before they could restart their complaints, Skylur cut in. “Diakon Trang is correct. The oath of House Karamazin to House Spasenieva, held before this assembly in 1931. That was in English at Basilikos request.” He looked around and added, almost as an aside. “It’s not as if you don’t all speak English to each other any time you meet another House outside of this Assembly.”

The representatives looked as if he’d slapped them across the face, but the first discussion ended there, and the blank faces returned.

We had made a first step, and gotten the proceedings in English. But I wondered how many Panethus Bian and Skylur had just pissed off. What were they doing?

The Basilikos representative from Brazil stood. House Correia, I remembered from the ball. She’d refused a dance. Her sleek black hair lay artfully about her shoulders and she wore the sort of elegant business suit that Jen did.

Correia looked at us, drawing everyone’s eyes back to the contrast. Bian and I dripped bloody water onto the floor and stared back.

There was an absolute silence now, and despite their indifferent expressions, I had the sense that every representative was straining forward to see how this would go.

“The agenda item is the proposed oath of allegiance, from the newly proposed House Farrell to House Altau. Basilikos contend this item and advise they will expand the scope,” she said.

“House Correia, there is no ‘proposed’ about House Farrell. In my authority, I have set up and formally approved the creation of this House. There is no discussion to be had about that. As to your other comments, linked or open scope?” Skylur asked.

Bian tensed, and Correia’s eyes flicked to Matlal for confirmation. The room held its breath.

“Open,” she said.

Skylur nodded and a quiet sigh flowed out from the seats.

“Anything can be discussed now,” Bian breathed in my ear. “Risky. He should have restricted it.”

“Then I will commence with a complaint against House Altau,” Correia said. “That you infiltrated an Aspirant into the McIntire-Harriman Foundation Charity Ball for the purpose of spying on the Assembly.”

“The Assembly only exists as a body when you’re in a room and an Assembly is in progress,” Skylur said pedantically.

“No defense,” Bian whispered. “What is he trying to do?”

“The collected representatives then.”

“House Farrell was not an Aspirant,” Skylur countered.

“So you’re at least admitting to the spying.” Correia sounded exasperated, but I sensed they both played behind masks.

Skylur shifted his weight. “No. I was requested by another House to have someone attend. Obviously, that couldn’t be someone from House Altau, by the rules of the Assembly. I contracted House Farrell in her capacity as an investigator.”

“But she was Athanate and unregistered. That’s—”

“No, not at the time.” Skylur cut across her.

Correia smiled as if he’d made a mistake.

“We’re all well aware you’re a supporter of Emergence, but this is untenable. On your own decision, you risked exposing the entire Athanate. You’ve admitted that you contracted a human, not kin, not Aspirant, not Athanate and briefed her on Athanate matters to attend the ball.”

Air hissed between Bian’s teeth.

“No.” Skylur seemed unconcerned. An usher delivered messages to him and he was scanning them before placing them in a pile.

At his denial, heads swiveled to the Truth Sensors, but they stared blandly back.

“She was in the process of becoming an Athanate,” Skylur explained, putting the last of his messages aside. “But not aligned with a House, so not Aspirant. And so none of the categories you mentioned. A risk, yes, but not as you’ve portrayed it, and well within my rights.”

I could feel the unhappiness from the Panethus side. It was all great fun for Skylur to play Correia as a fool, but his own side wanted more answers than he seemed willing to give. Maybe he wanted her to keep digging, so he could reveal Matlal’s connection to Tucker.

Correia declined to pursue the thread and moved on. “So, then this Aspirant-without-a-House became Athanate. And then you established a House for her. In a week. I mean, I assume you established the House, since she can’t even speak Athanate?”

“Correct.” Skylur shrugged. “This is my mantle and such decisions are within my authority. There will be no discussion about that.”

“I hardly need point out, there’s not time for crusis in that.”

“Normally, no,” Skylur admitted.

The representatives rustled in their seats. A couple nodded to neighbors—so, the rumors were true. Tension ratcheted up.

Correia voiced it for them all. “The whispers about this woman’s Blood would seem justified.”

“Possibly, House Correia.” Skylur settled back and steepled his fingers. “Is there a point to all this?”

“The point, House Altau,” she snapped back, “is that you’ve been making questionable decisions that risk Emergence without the authority of the Assembly, and have lost control of your mantle. I propose that you be removed from your positions, both within the Assembly and within this mantle.”

Skylur chuckled. “You have a long way to go before your allegations add up to any sort of grounds for the actions you suggest.”

“House Farrell has been acting with your authority and approval?” She waited for him to nod. “Well, let’s see what an affiliate of yours has to say.”

She pressed a button on her seat controls and a screen behind Bian and me showed Oscar Jaworski, Diakon of House Romero. Crap. Altau had let him go and he enjoyed recounting all the things I’d done to him. Made him undress, tied him up. Yes, it had been in broad daylight, but to hear him you’d have thought most of the population of Denver witnessed his treatment.

Jerk.

“Is that controlling your mantle?” Correia asked.

Panethus representatives remained blank, but there was a stir of discomfort.

“What about this?”

She showed some shaky video footage of me jumping off the Nexus building and being flown off clinging on to a chopper’s landing skid.

“Demonstrating Athanate abilities,” Correia claimed, her voice rising. “In front of witnesses. On camera. Risking revealing the Athanate, risking Emergence. Is that control?”

Absolute crap. I was doing that kind of thing all the time in Ops 4-10.

Bian gripped my forearm and kept me in my seat.

This wasn’t a slam dunk, but again, there was more concern building on the Panethus side. Skylur had to bring out a counter.

“And now, I would like to question one of your own House,” Correia said. “Marlon Pruitt. Under the protection of the Assembly and the Warders.”

I frowned. What would Marlon have to say? Refusing to be brought to see Skylur by the Fang team? Surely that was nothing. Unless…unless he’d also found out about David and me compromising Altau security. He hadn’t been at David’s house that night, but he would have talked to the others. Bian might even have briefed him about it. But why would he do it? He was the spy? How?