The Sleeper and the Silverblood
The Secret Silverblood

“An accidental discovery, but yes,” Kitara said.

Robert stared at her. “Stars and hellfire, Kitara—”

“They also know better than to say anything,” she interrupted, “which is more than I can say for you at the moment. So. Is that how you knew to tell Baylen?”

Sighing, Robert nodded. “I saw the Dark Star Directive and couldn’t help myself. After my return, I pointed out with a very different file that if I could get to it, so could someone else, and recommended they move it into Myragos, where Valëtyrian tech couldn’t touch it.”

“Okay,” Zayne said, finally speaking up. “That all makes sense—I get it, Baylen saved your life. Took advantage of you, sure, but a life debt isn’t anything to sniff at. So why is he here now?” He hesitated. “I guess I should ask…how is he here now? Did you give him access through the anti-portaling tech?”

Robert scowled. “No. This is the second time he’s come through it…even after I made changes.”

“When was the first time?” Storm asked.

“When he found headquarters,” Robert admitted grudgingly.

“So why don’t your changes work anymore?”

“Because they never worked,” Baylen interjected. “I just…honored them for Robert’s peace of mind, until Kitara realized who I was.”

Robert glared at him. “Oh, that’s perfect. Thanks a lot. I could have spent that time doing just about anything else instead of wasting it trying to protect the AIDO from you.”

Baylen’s expression remained mild. “You never had to worry about that, Robert.”

“Sure he did,” Alasdair put in. “Because if you can do it, someone else could too.”

The Netherling shook his head. “No. It’s just me. I can guarantee no one else like me exists.”

“Can you?” Storm asked. “For all you know, Shyamal had loads of illegitimate kids, and did to them what he did to you.”

“I’m sure he did,” Baylen said calmly. “But it wouldn’t work, don’t you see? I’m the only child he had before he Fell.”

“Do you know who your mother was?” Kitara asked.

Baylen grimaced. “He never said. But if the color of my blood is any indication…she was Myragnar.”

“What?” They exclaimed at once.

Baylen looked at Kitara. “Care to demonstrate? Preferably without killing me?”

With a wary gaze, she drew a knife and approached him. He didn’t move until she extended a hand, into which he put his own.

When Kitara nicked his forearm, Baylen didn’t flinch, though the corrosive properties of her blade surely burned his skin. Everyone leaned forward.

The blood beading along the gash ran silver.

“You’re a silverblood?” Robert asked faintly. “I didn’t know…”

“I don’t make a habit of sharing that information,” Baylen replied, putting a hand to the wound and knitting it together in a blasé show of power. “My father’s blood makes me an enemy of Valëtyria, while my mother’s makes me an enemy of Ostragarn.”

“But your eyes…” Storm began.

“A trait of my father’s,” Baylen explained, raising his sapphire gaze to Kitara’s emerald one. “And yours. All the Ninthëvels had vibrant eyes. I surmise that genetic trait outweighed those of the Myragnar. The combination means, to the best of my knowledge, a technology doesn’t exist that can prevent me from ethervescing somewhere I want to be.”

Zayne sighed, then collapsed into an armchair, massaging his forehead. “This is a mess.”

“Understatement of the millennium,” Declan muttered while Alasdair nodded.

“Now what?” Kitara asked, bracing her elbows on her knees. “You’re Shyamal’s son, a silverblood, the Maker…but what do you want, Baylen?”

“All I’ve wanted for nearly half a century was to confirm I hadn’t destroyed my entire family,” Baylen admitted. “That you were alive. And then…to prove, somehow, my remorse. To…try and atone for the awful things that befell your parents because of me.”

Kitara’s heart broke a little, but she didn’t let it show. “And now…?”

He shrugged. “Now we have the General to worry about, because if what he’s doing is any indication, he’s revisiting some of my father’s more…unsavory experiments.”

“Why ‘the Maker?’” Devika asked. “Is there a meaning behind the name?”

Baylen leaned back in his armchair. “I ‘make things happen.’ You experienced it yourself.”

“You made the door disappear.”

“Reality-bending,” he elaborated. “I can’t do it for long—it requires excessive amounts of energy to hold matter and space in a form it’s not intended to be.”

Kitara barked a laugh. “You made a different reality.”

Baylen glanced at her. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

They lapsed into silence.

«Kit, you okay?» Storm’s voice came through laced with concern.

«I don’t know,» she replied, leaning into him. He put his arm around her. «The Maker, a silverblood, my…my cousin…honestly, I need some time to process.»

«We can make that happen.»

Alasdair, the acting Commander, turned to Robert. “What do you want to do? I can’t say I’m comfortable with any of this, but…”

“Does the High Council know anything about your…history on the outside?” Storm asked.

The Fallen shook his head. “I kept the details minimal and vague.”

“And Kenric?” Kitara couldn’t help asking.

A fleeting moment of pain crossed his face. “No, he doesn’t know.”

Kitara gestured between him and Baylen. “Is there anything still—”

“No,” they replied together.

Storm’s eyes narrowed at the Councilor. “Have you passed any additional intel to him, Robert?”

Before he could answer, Baylen laughed. “He nearly had me arrested the first time I appeared inside the AIDO. No, he hasn’t.”

“I didn’t ask you.” Storm’s voice held a marked chill.

Robert shook his head. “I swear on my life, on the immortality I no longer possess, and on the certainty of my death; I’ve told him nothing beyond what you already know.”

Storm turned to Baylen. “Then you need to leave.”

Baylen looked to Kitara for confirmation. For the first time since his unheralded arrival, dismay registered in his expression. “Kitara…?”

She shifted uneasily. “Storm’s right. I think you should go.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I need to process. We all need to process.” She gestured around the room. “We’ve extended a lot of goodwill, Baylen. But Robert told you—we’re in the middle of a critical level emergency, and your involvement is a distraction we can’t afford. I think Declan still hasn’t decided whether or not to shoot you.”

“Nope.” The Guardian popped the “p” for emphasis.

The Netherling’s expression settled into the mild mask she’d grown accustomed to. “As you wish.”

Kitara wore an impassive mask of her own to hide her tumultuous emotions. “Thank you for all the information you’ve provided. It’s been helpful.”

He offered her a mocking bow. “I am at your service.” Then, with a whisper of sound, he disappeared.

“Was that wise?” Alasdair asked. “Considering what he can do, what he’s capable of…”

“If he wanted to kill us, he would have,” Kitara replied, rubbing her face with her hands. “He proved he can take over an AIDO facility in Japan. He doesn’t need to put on an act. He could just…walk in and take whatever he wants. And he didn’t.”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Kitara—”

She held up a hand to stop Robert. “If you say you didn’t tell him anything else, I believe you. If you say he’s not a threat, I believe you.”

Declan snorted but didn’t otherwise comment.

“Should we tell the rest of the High Council?” Zayne asked, glancing at the Councilor. “This feels like…a massive breach. Something they would want to know—”

“Only if you want us all to end up in body bags somewhere,” Kitara muttered.

“I’m with Kit,” Storm added, rubbing the back of his head. “We’re all in too deep now. None of us are safe. Not even you, Rob.” He met the Fallen’s dark eyes.

“I’m still not sure where you stand, Councilor,” Declan said. “I imagine Falling sucks balls. I’m not going to pretend I know what it’s like. But if you came back to try and undermine—”

“I didn’t,” Robert cut him off. “I came back to try and make things better. There hasn’t been a Fall since mine. Short of somebody murdering the High Councilor or destroying the AIDO…I intend to keep it that way, if I can.”

Alasdair stood wearily. “I have to go,” he sighed. “During this little…heart-to-heart, I’ve received three hundred messages. I don’t know how Commander Kasama does it.”

“Probably without a looming war complicating things,” Kitara suggested.

He snorted. “Yeah, probably.”

“You need help, ’Dair?” Zayne asked. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t,” Alasdair mumbled. “I wouldn’t hate the help.”

“Let’s go, then.”

With a tired nod, the acting Commander and Ambassador disappeared.

Declan stood next. “Kitara’s right about one thing,” he grumbled. “I need time to process all of this.”

“Don’t get yourself executed, Dec,” Storm said lightly, but a note of concern echoed in the words.

“I’m not. I’m going back to sleep. Maybe things won’t seem so fucking insane when I wake up.”

Then the Guardian disappeared too.

“I need to get back to the library,” Devika said. “I shouldn’t have left it unattended for this long.”

She hugged Kitara goodbye and followed the way of the rest.

That left Storm and Kitara facing down the haggard Fallen Councilor.

“For the record, Kitara,” Robert said gruffly, “I still love Kenric.”

Storm took the opportunity to excuse himself to the bathroom.

Kitara chewed the inside of her cheek as she observed the Fallen, then finally nodded. “Yeah. I know. You should tell him that though.”

“Baylen meant nothing to me; he was just…”

“A distraction?” Kitara couldn’t help her half-smile. “He’s good at that.”

The Councilor huffed a laugh. “Yeah, he is.”

“What now, Rob?” she asked.

“Phoebe won’t let anything happen to you,” Robert reassured her. “And I’m with her. I suspected something was going on—I get notifications when someone hits Myragos security. But since they came mostly from Alasdair and Devika, I thought it was research, so I didn’t give it any thought. It wasn’t until after Storm went to Valëtyria that I realized something was amiss.”

“You’re telling me you could have intervened?” Kitara wanted to know. “If you were getting notifications—”

“It’s a security thing,” Robert admitted. “It lets me keep tabs on anyone looking for dangerous information. So…yes, I could have intervened.”

“But you didn’t.”

Robert shrugged self-consciously. “I never imagined how deep you all were digging.”

“Which is a Sleeper thing. We dig and dig until we dig our own graves, sometimes,” she said with a sad smile, thinking of Saoirse.

Robert shook his head and stood. Kitara followed suit.

“You’re braver than most immortals put together,” he said as he headed for the door. “If you and Storm keep this up…you realize you’ll have to face Storm’s father at some point.”

A blush suffused her face. “I can handle Cornelius,” she asserted. “Just concentrate on not getting yourself killed, okay? Kenric will need you if—when he wakes up.”

Robert held her gaze for a long moment, as if trying to solve a puzzle. Finally, he sighed. “Be careful, Kitara.”

“You too, Councilor.”

With that, Kitara stood alone in Storm’s living room.