Chapter 67: I am dante grey

"Alive enough. She breathes, and she eats when we make her." The captain scratched his chin with the edge of his sword. "Hard as stone, that girl. I’ve done this twelve years, and I’ve never seen one like her. We’ve tried everything. Everything, and then some. Three weeks now."

"And do you know what she’s said?" Brann leaned forward, and the lamp lit up his lip scar. "Not a word. Not one word about where dante grey is, who he’s with, how he got his power. Nothing. Elena says she’ll break by tomorrow. I told her she’s been saying that for ten days."

"Stop," Dante said.

"The funniest part is..." Brann chuckled. "When she does open her mouth, you know what comes out? ’I agree.’ That’s all. Over and over. ’I agree.’ Like it’s a prayer. I don’t even know what it means."

The corner of the tunnel was completely quiet.

Water dripped onto the stone, one drop at a time.

Dante remembered the snow. A shaking hand gripping a warming potion. A small, frightened voice saying those two words, and meaning them the only way she knew how.

I agree.

He had given her three rules. She had agreed to all of them. Three weeks, he thought. inside a cage.

Something in his chest turned very cold and very still.

"Hey," Brann said, tilting his head. "Are you listening? I don’t think you’re a relative. I think you’re the one I’m looking for."

Dante stepped out of the dark. His face was calm. He wasn’t holding anything in his hands. He wasn’t even angry in the way people usually expect, with a flushed face and clenched teeth. His eyes were flat, and his voice was almost gentle.

"Brann Kessel," he said.

The captain froze. The lamp wobbled in his hand. He looked at the black hair, the dark eyes, and the unfamiliar young face, and slowly the grin came back.

"You’re going to answer one more question."

"Oh? And what’s that?"

"Who gave the order for the cells?"

"Elena. Marcus signed it." Brann shrugged. "Why do you care? She’s not your problem."

Dante nodded slowly.

"That’s all I needed, do you know who i am? I am dante grey that you are looking for and now you are going to die" he said.

"You–"

Brann’s sword came up. It was a fast move, a veteran’s move—a short, vicious thrust straight at the throat. Dante didn’t dodge. The blade hit his neck, like a bell struck with a hammer.

The Mirror Body took the force. It doubled it, and it threw it straight back.

The sword shattered. The pieces flew back through Brann’s own arm. His wrist snapped, then his elbow, then his shoulder, with three wet cracks that echoed down the tunnel. He screamed and dropped the lamp. The glass broke, and the little flame hissed out on the floor.

He fell to his knees, clutching his broken arm.

"You," he gasped. "What are you? That’s... that’s..."

Dante walked toward him. In the faint light, his shadow stretched long across the pipes. The big captain tried to crawl back, scrabbling at the stones with his good hand.

"Wait! Wait! I can get you in!" Brann’s voice cracked. "I know the cell blocks! I know every guard rotation! I can take you to her!"

"You could."

"Yes! I can! Just let me..."

Dante crouched down in front of him.

"Brann," he said, very quietly. "Do you know what ’I agree’ means?"

"No! I don’t, I swear..."

"It means she promised to follow me. And she did, for three weeks, in a cage, while you stood outside." Dante tilted his head. "A person like that can’t be bought. You’ve spent your life learning how to break people, and you never once met someone who couldn’t be broken."

The captain’s mouth opened and closed.

"I’m not angry," Dante said, and he sounded almost surprised. "I thought I would be. But this feeling–."

He drew the invisible blade. The air bent around his right hand. Brann stared at the empty space and the shimmering line of heat, and his face went slack.

"Please," he whispered. "I have a family."

"So did Joren Tace," Dante said. "He walked home." He stood up.

"You’ll go the other way."

One cut, clean and silent. The tunnel flashed red for a single heartbeat, and then it was dark again.

The body slumped forward onto the stones.

[Soul Reaper activated.]

[Target absorbed. You have permanently gained: +8 Strength, +6 Agility.]

Dante stood still for a long moment, breathing slowly. He didn’t feel any satisfaction. He felt only a cold, tight quiet, like a held breath.

He wiped the blade on his sleeve, though it left no mark. He knelt and took the crystal bead from the dead man’s ear. It was still dark.

’He never called it in’, he thought. ’Good’

He searched the body quickly and found three things: a ring of keys, a folded square of paper, and a small gold pass stamped with the guild crest. He opened the paper.

It was a hand-drawn map, a cross-section of a tall building with a dozen levels, marked in neat black ink. At the very bottom, deep underground, a small room was circled in red.

Cell 9. Yenna.

Beside it, in a woman’s handwriting, was a short note.

Guard change at midnight. Do not leave her alone. — E.

’Elena’, he thought.

He folded the map and put it, along with the keys, into his pocket. Then he stood up, dragged the body to the edge of the old pipe shaft, and let it fall. It dropped without a sound and was gone.

Footsteps came softly along the tunnel behind him. Dante didn’t turn around. He recognized the uneven step.

"You were gone a long time," Varn said, very quietly.

The old smith stopped beside him and looked down into the shaft. "I lied to six guards upstairs. I told them a dog got into the trapdoor. They believed me, mostly. They left a few minutes ago."

"He followed you down."

"I know. I heard him." Varn took a slow breath. "I heard what he said, too."

Dante said nothing.

"You didn’t have to do it down here," the old man said. "You could have taken him upstairs, in front of the others. You’d have been caught."

"If they found a body in the forge, they’d have burned it down with you in it." Dante said.

Varn nodded slowly. He looked at the young man in front of him, and there was something in his old eye that wasn’t just fear.

"You’ve changed, boy," he said.

"Every month, with the armor," Varn said. "A little paper bag, and fruits. You said I looked thin. I told you to mind your own business." He smiled, a crooked, tired smile. "I ate every one of them."

The ladder creaked as Dante put his weight on it. He climbed three rungs, then stopped and looked back down.

"Varn."

"Mm?"

"If anyone asks, the stranger never came."

"What stranger?" The old smith shrugged. "I haven’t seen a stranger in years."

Dante turned and climbed into the dark shaft.

Varn stood alone in the tunnel for a long time with the broken lamp at his feet.

"Gods keep you safe," he said.