Beyond The Shadows

Twenty-one

"I—I don't know how to dance," Akar stammered. His one good eye had widened in shock at Bane's suggestion. The shadow thrown by Damien Chase's dancing form blurred the boy's eye patch so that for a moment it was not perceptible to Bane.

"Neither does Talia," Bane said with a nudge of his elbow.

"But…" Akar nodded toward his missing arm.

"Hurry before the song is over."

Chewing his lower lip, Akar flicked his attention back to Talia in Chase's arms.

"Go on."

"I—I can't."

Bane nearly called out to Talia to come and claim her new partner, but he feared embarrassing Akar by drawing everyone's attention to him, so instead he simply urged again, "Go on. Don't you want to?"

"Y—yes, but—"

"Then go on before it's too late."

Akar wavered. Just when he screwed on his courage and started to step out of the shadows, Passat finished the waltz with a flourish of his bow. Everyone broke into applause. Akar's shoulders slumped in disappointment, and before Bane could say anything more, the boy slipped away toward the kitchen, no doubt to retrieve more drink for the gathering.

Talia escaped Chase's hold and hurried over to Bane, her whole being alive with joy. As he reclaimed his seat, she climbed onto his lap, her body wonderfully warm from her exertions.

"Why didn't you dance with me, habibi?"

"I'm afraid I don't have as much energy as you this night." He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, pleased to have her to himself again.

"Did you see Damien's eyes? Choden says he looks like a raccoon."

"And do you know what a raccoon looks like?"

"Yes, of course. I've seen pictures. They look like they are wearing a mask. They have black fur around their eyes. Do you know what they look like?" she asked with a sly smile.

He chuckled and gave her a squeeze. When Ducard reclaimed his seat, Bane expected Talia to go to him but was pleased when she remained. Most of the men returned to their places, conversations resuming.

Before Passat could place his violin in its case, Bane asked if he could hold the instrument. The irascible German eyed him with concern, but when Talia added a heartfelt, "Please," Passat reluctantly obliged.

Bane carefully examined the polished wood and gently touched the strings. "Where did you learn to play?" he asked in German—a language acquired from Hans in prison.

"I learned as a boy. My mother insisted I would learn either the violin or the piano, and since it is much easier to carry around a violin than a piano…"

The man's joke surprised Bane, for thus far in their limited relationship, Passat had not been particularly genial. But now he almost smiled after his comment, though perhaps the smile was more for Talia's benefit. Yet Bane sensed something different in the man as he handed back the violin. Passat actually met his gaze, and this time without the coldness that had chilled their time together during their mission to find Bane's father. And as the night progressed, Bane noticed the same subtle change among several others, men who interacted with him instead of simply sending perfunctory platitudes his way as they had in the past whenever their paths crossed.

Drowsiness from the fentanyl began to weigh Bane's eyelids, yet he found himself reluctant to leave the gathering. Akar and Jamyang kept everyone's drinks topped off, and when the boy brought Bane a new mug, he revealed a conspiratorial smile before moving on. When Bane slipped the straw between the bandages, he discovered the heady taste of spiced wine.

"That doesn't smell like coffee," Talia said, now nearly asleep.

"Hush," Bane said, then winked.

Sangye stood from a nearby chair, yawning and stretching. "It is past my student's bedtime, is it not, young lady? And it is past mine as well."

As Talia started to protest, Ducard added, "Sangye is right. We will not be able to rouse you in the morning, and then we will have a fight on our hands. So…off you go."

"I'm too tired to climb the stairs, Papa. Carry me."

Ducard chuckled. "I'm afraid not, my pet."

"I'll carry you," Bane offered. "I'm ready for bed myself. Then your father can stay down here longer."

Ducard bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Bane."

Bane wrapped Melisande's blanket around Talia's shoulders, then crouched and offered his back. "Right, then. Climb aboard." Carrying her would be no small task, considering the soreness still controlling his body from the fight, but he appreciated the opportunity to show the others that he was undaunted.

With a giggle of triumph, Talia clambered up to ride piggyback. She bid all those around her good night and received warm wishes in return.

Once upon the stairs, Talia's weight relaxed fully against him like a ragdoll, revealing her sleepiness. Her soft, warm cheek rested against his shoulder as she murmured on about her dancing. Her mother's blanket rustled as she drew it close to her face.

"I wish Mama could have been there to dance with Papa."

Bane's hand closed upon hers. "She was."

Talia's room was a contrast to the Spartan décor of Bane's room. Hers was larger and had two windows. Besides a desk like Bane's, there were also three chairs at a small table, which was used for her studies with Sangye as well as for other purposes, such as games or puzzles. There was a half-finished jigsaw puzzle spread there now, one which depicted London, a sight that made Bane think of his own mother...and his half-sister, for that was where Ducard said she now lived. How ironic. There was also a bookshelf and a modestly-sized chest, ornately carved with dragons, from which spilled a handful of toys, some brought to the monastery from unknown places, others—like the horse Bane had carved for her during his convalescence—made by members of the League. Akar had contributed as well, having sewn a doll for her, a monumental task for one who possessed but a single hand. It was the only thing in the room that reflected Talia's feminine gender. She slept with it every night and had created a number of dresses to interchange with the plain monastic attire that Akar had initially provided.

As Bane turned back her blankets and located the doll, Talia quickly changed into the nightclothes Jamyang had made for her, lined with the softest wool from the monastery's own flock. She crawled into bed as Bane revived the low fire in the hearth to combat the storm still raging outside. With the fire crackling hungrily over the fresh fuel, Bane returned to sit on the edge of Talia's bed. As she settled against the pillow, he brought the blankets up to her chin. Sleep pressed heavily upon her, but he could see she was not quite ready to succumb.

"I had so much fun tonight," she quietly said. "Didn't you?"

"It was very enjoyable."

"Next time you must dance with me."

He chuckled. "Jin told me I lack grace, so I doubt I would be much of a dancer."

Talia's smile tempered. "Do you think Jin will come back?"

"I don't know, habibati. But I sure hope so. Now…you must get some sleep."

He started to stand, but Talia's voice halted him.

"Bane…" She frowned and fidgeted with the edge of her blanket. A troubled line marred her smooth forehead.

Bane touched her fingers. "What is it, little mouse?"

The frown deepened before she looked up at him. "Is Damien a bad man? I mean…like the ones in prison?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Your fight. Is that why you fought him—because he's a bad man?"

The concept of Damien Chase being anything less than a friend and an admirer seemed to injure her deeply, so Bane hastened to assure her, "No, that isn't why I fought him, habibati. Of course not. He wouldn't be here if he were a bad man; your father wouldn't allow it, would he?"

"I guess not," she murmured, not completely convinced. "But then why did you fight him?"

"I thought he was hurting Jin."

She nodded slightly, her frown returning. "So did I. But…why would he? Isn't he Jin's friend?"

"Well…I'm not sure you could call them friends. But neither are they enemies. Sometimes relationships can be a bit…complicated."

"Papa was mad at you, wasn't he?"

Not wanting her to think that everyone whom she cared about was at odds with one another, he said, "Maybe a little, but we talked, and I promised to take better care of my temper." He smiled and tapped her nose. "Don't worry about any of this, habibati. It's all in the past now. We have all learned a lesson."

This wiped the anxiety from her face, and she smiled and captured his hand, studied him for a moment before saying, "I miss seeing your smile."

The words caught him off guard, pained him, especially when he saw the familiar shadow of guilt creep back into her beautiful eyes. He forced himself to quickly recover, saying, "Well, it is still here, especially when I look at you." He leaned down and drew her hand against the bandages, as if he could kiss her through them, hoping that his eyes revealed his smile.

His gesture succeeded in restoring her happiness, and she quietly said, "I love you, habibi."

"I love you, too, little mouse. Now…" He tucked her doll beneath the blanket with her. "Get some sleep."

Reluctantly he left her for his own chilled room. After starting a fire, he changed his clothes, wrapped himself in Melisande's blanket, and retreated to his bed. He did not fall asleep immediately, though. His thoughts drifted from Talia to the time spent downstairs. It had been a night unlike any other. He had felt almost included in the gathering, a feeling that now comforted him more than the fire. Choden and Ducard had called these men his brothers; indeed, even Chase had called them that. Could he truly think of them that way? Did they think the same of him now that they knew he was no helpless charity case?

Bane tugged Melisande's blanket up over the bandages and began to drift off. Perhaps, he thought, when he had said good-bye to his father, he had not lost his family after all. Perhaps he had, instead, gained a new one.