Masters of Deception

by J C Kang

  Jie thanked the Heavens she was now wearing clothes more suited to sneaking and fighting. They might not be her stealth suit, but at least it wasn’t that silly pink dress. Once the commotion erupted downstairs and the don and his men rumbled out of his office, she’d tailed them, huddling in their shadows. Then she crept through the back door to the kitchens, and hid behind maids who brought beer and wines to the guests. Now, these poor women were screaming as they fled from flashing knives and rapiers. Gambling patrons, too, cowered under tables or dashed for the front exit.

  The turn from heated discussion to armed confrontation had started with a simple question from Master Anish. The Paladin master now moved like a blur among the thugs, avoiding stabs and slashes, counter-attacking with vicious hacks of his naga. The mobsters might as well have been standing still—at least until they fell to his blade. And if the Paladins really believed in some code, it wasn’t showing now.

  Sameer, too, deftly bobbed and weaved through the skirmish. He’d liberated a rapier from a fallen man, and now swept it through the air in broad arcs. The pair’s fighting style appeared to focus on avoidance and single, incapacitating chops to exposed targets; though the rapier’s thin, light, double edge did not seem as suited to the approach as the heavy, curved naga. Unlike the fight the day before, and unlike the master, Sameer was using the flat of the blade. Either his deceased master’s words had gotten through his thick skull, or he was just incompetent with a foreign weapon.

  Jie scanned the crowds for Brehane. The Mystic might not trust her, but that didn’t mean she should be betrayed into a life of slavery and humiliation at the hands of the Mafia.

  Guttural words chopped through the air. Jie turned to their source.

  Around Brehane, several of the criminals crumpled to the ground. Her shoulders looked like they carried a pair of invisible ship anchors. Two of the don’s guards rushed toward her, and all she could do was stare at them.

  Jie hurled several ceramic mugs, which smashed into the attackers’ faces. Brehane’s head turned, and she met Jie’s gaze. Jie waved her toward the exit. “Escape! Your cousin betrayed you!”

  Brehane stared back with no sign of understanding. Perhaps weak human ears couldn’t pick out a shout amongst all the crashing, shattering, and screaming.

  Yells rang out from closer to the entrance. Jie turned.

  Dawit flung spells left and right, searing assailants with fiery darts, dropping them into sleep, and sizzling some with arcs of lightning. The mobsters now held back, pointing their weapons at him while looking for others to attack.

  Jie made a note not to trifle with angry Mystics, or try to pick their pockets again. It was amazing to think that, outnumbered as they were, the Southerners were holding their own. Only Brehane seemed to be at risk. Jie looked back to where the Mystic had been.

  She wasn’t there. Captured?

  Jie scanned the crowds of screaming people. There, near the back, Brehane picked her way through the throng, craning her neck. What was she searching for? Jie tracked the Mystic’s eyes.

  Don Acerbi. Surrounded by several of his men, the rotund crime boss was working his way toward the steps to the mezzanine.

  Brehane was losing ground on him as she ducked out of sight of mob enforcers, only to pick up Don Acerbi’s trail again.

  “By the steps,” Jie yelled, pointing. “Don Acerbi is getting away.”

  Sameer and Anish stared at her, then at each other, before following her finger.

  Not far from the entrance, Dawit barked out several guttural sounds, all ominous enough to send a chill down Jie’s spine. He pointed. She followed the gesture.

  A blast of fire erupted from the steps, sending chairs, tables, and people flying. The scent of sulfur and smoke hung in the air, like spent firepowder.

  Jie blinked away the orange glow behind her eyes and looked. Where Don Acerbi had been standing with his guards, there were now several piles of charred flesh. Other people lay burning, while still others ran like screaming human torches. Flames licked at the stairway and across the floors, spreading up wooden beams.

  Heavens, what kind of idiot used fire as a weapon in an enclosed space full of wood, with only two exits?

  Heat and smoke filled the room as the conflagration spread through the wood framing, columns, and beams. What had started as a panic of gamblers trying to avoid a fight now became a stampede as the terrified crowd fought to fit through the front door. Some pounded away at the boarded windows.

  Scanning the crowd, Jie found Brehane and shouted in her broken Ayuri, “This way, there’s an exit at the back!”

  Brehane shook her head. “I need to rescue Makeda.”

  Poor girl, didn’t know her cousin had wicked motives. Jie shook her head and shouted, “She betrayed you!”

  Hand cupped by her ear, Brehane squinted and wagged her head. “What did you say?”

  Frail human ears. Jie scanned among the panicked faces. Where were the Paladins? “Sameer, Anish!”

  The Paladin master was nowhere to be found. At the edge of the spreading fire, Sameer was pulling one of the serving girls to safety. His eyes lifted and paused on Jie.

  With one hand she pointed at the rear door, while with the other, she waved him over. “The back exit is safer.”

  Sameer ushered the girl in the direction of the back door, but then turned back to help others. The boy would get himself killed. Even now, the heat blared in waves through the inferno. Smoke hung in the air, and undoubtedly in his lungs.

  Ripping a strip of cloth from her shirt, she covered her nose and mouth. She looked to where Brehane had last been. No sign of her, and no way to warn her again about Makeda.

  At the front, Dawit, face contorted in what could only be described as malice, grunted more guttural words. Thunder clapped, then rumbled through the room.

  Ears ringing, Jie looked at the source. Bright sunlight flooded in through a gaping hole in the front wall. Wood, stone, and people lay strewn in a semicircle around the opening. Panicked gamblers trampled over each other as they fled for the new escape route.

  The wood frame groaned, and the rafters splintered. Between the fire and Dawit’s magic, the building’s structure wouldn’t last long. Scanning the room again, Jie found Sameer helping another woman. Jie leaped off the counter and landed in a crouch on the wood floors. Staying low beneath the smoke, she darted to help the brave, foolish Paladin.

  Who was the greater fool?

  A horizontal beam above snapped. Jie sidestepped before it crashed down on top of her. The engineer tasked with connecting the interiors of these row houses probably never predicted Mystics going on a rampage when he drafted the renovation. When she reached Sameer, she grabbed his arm. “Come on, the building is going to collapse.”

  Sameer’s wide eyes stared back at her. A look of recognition bloomed on his face. He pointed at the edge of the fire, where several men now stirred and coughed in their ensorcelled sleep. “We need to help more people.”

  Those men were as good as dead. She waved to the ceiling, now crackling as the wood split. “Can your Paladin skills keep this place from collapsing? No? Then get out! There isn’t much more time.” She took the girl Sameer was helping by the hand.

  Anguish painted Sameer’s expression as he looked back at a man with spectacles who was pinned by a column. He’d been at Don Acerbi’s side before. He must not have followed the don to his fiery death by the stairs.

  His wide, panicked eyes met theirs. “Help!’

  “I’m going to save him.” Sameer pulled out of her grasp.

  Foolish boy. Jie pulled the young woman along. “This one can be saved. If you get crushed by beams, roasted by fire, or suffocated by smoke, it's your own fault.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Sameer had no intention of getting crushed, roasted, or suffocated in the inferno, but he couldn’t let that man—gangster or not—get either burned to death by the fire or buried beneath the rubble. Around him the screams continued, albeit
less loud as many of the people had escaped, and others were claimed by the smoke and flames. Yet more were claimed by Master Anish’s naga. He hadn’t used the flat of his blade.

  As Sameer dashed back to the fallen beam, he considered what had just happened. He should’ve kept his cool, shouldn’t have antagonized Don Acerbi; but the sudden change in the crime lord’s demeanor couldn’t have been explained just by his anger at Sameer. No, Master Anish had already used a Command and eased the tensions. Then, there had been something unsettling in the Vibrations, a cold which had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Just like when they’d fought the mobsters the day before.

  Now, he knelt over the trapped man, one of Don Acerbi’s henchmen.

  “Help me,” the man whispered through gritted teeth.

  Sameer nodded. How, though? Pushing the beam, as big around as his head, would do nothing to free the man; and with the rubble one end, there was no chance of lifting it. The heat from the fire flared on Sameer’s face, and smoke clogged the air.

  “This will hurt,” he said. Borrowing the Vibrations and envisioning the center of the beam, Sameer lifted his hand and aimed at a spot on the wood, right over the man’s chest. If he could channel enough energy, he could split the timber. If the God of Justice favored him, it wouldn’t kill the goon in the process. If the Goddess of Vengeance guided his hand…

  Sameer took a deep breath…

  And choked on the smoke. His shoulders heaved as he coughed several times. A column broke with an ear-splitting snap and fell toward him.

  Paladin reflexes took over, and he sidestepped the column before he joined the henchman, pinned to the floor. Focusing again, he raised his hand and struck the beam with his palm.

  The wood splintered and snapped in half.

  By the Thousand Gods, he’d done it! And really it hadn’t felt like Justice manifesting in him, but rather Justice and Vengeance. The latter cut, while the former restrained.

  Sameer pulled the man free. Draping his arm over his shoulder, he worked toward the back entrance. Flaming debris crashed down around them, his Paladin skills slowing time enough that he could dodge. Smoke burned his eyes and throat.

  Light from the open door filtered through the ash. Though thin, the man was so heavy it was slowing him down. The entire ceiling was collapsing behind them. With three more steps, they burst through the opening.

  While other people fled through the alley, Jie waited for him.

  Jie beckoned. “Come on.”

  Sameer pulled the man to the far end of the alley. It probably wasn’t far enough away, but for now, he didn’t have any more energy. He hunched over and coughed.

  “To the South Seas.”

  “Why?”

  Jie sucked on her lower lip for a second before answering. “To save your lady friend. We can ask around to find it.”

  Sohini! Sameer straightened and looked over to the man. “Are you well enough to get away?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I am Don Acerbi’s accountant. I can get you into the brothel.”

  Jie looked back toward the building. “Did you see Brehane?”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Brehane followed Jie’s example and tore a piece of cloth off to cover her face. Flames burned everywhere, and smoke blurred her vision. Still, she had to rescue Makeda, and maybe even uncover the source of the shift in the Resonance which had caused Don Acerbi to attack.

  Don Acerbi… He’d been running to the steps when Teacher Dawit had thrown a fireball in that direction, starting the conflagration.

  A fireball! From a Neuromancer. A man, no less. It shouldn’t have been possible.

  She craned around piles of burning rubble to look at the stairs. Charred corpses lay strewn about. Bile rose in her throat. It was one thing to use magic at the academy, and something completely different to use it on someone, under duress.

  Makeda was likely at the top of those steps. Perhaps she was gagged and bound, unable to use Pyromancy to control the raging fires. It would be ironic for a Pyromancer to die that way. It would be even more ironic if Brehane rescued her.

  She took a quick look around. Everyone who could had already fled. The yells and screams had quieted, replaced by crackling wood and snapping flames.

  Feeling the Resonance, Brehane barked out words in the language of Aksumi magic. The Pyromancy in her blood coursed through her. With a sweep of her hands, she opened a path in the flames.

  Her vitality guttered as she worked her way through, pressing the flames down with waves of her palms and the force of her will. Maybe with a few years of practice, she’d be able to put fires out altogether. She at last weaved by the mobsters’ bodies, burned beyond recognition, to the head of the steps.

  Behind her, the flames roared again, blocking the escape route she’d just made. She spun around.

  On the other side of the wall of flames stood Makeda, grinning. “This is not the way I had planned to recover our ancestor’s necklace, but if you die, nobody back home will miss a dirty Biomancer.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Makeda snarled out foul sounds. Flames erupted in her palm. “The Pyromancy clan sent me on this mission to make sure you never returned.”

  The Pyromancy clan? Brehane’s jaw dropped. Was this the matriarch’s idea? Or Makeda’s? When she found her voice, she said, “I came here to rescue you.”

  “And in doing so, you fell into my trap. I’d hoped Teacher Dawit would witness the Mafia doing the dirty work for me, but nobody will know now.”

  So Teacher Dawit knew nothing of it. Still, no matter their mutual dislike, it was hard to believe Makeda would do something so horrible to a fellow Mystic candidate. A cousin, no less.

  Teeth bared, Makeda hurled the flame in her hands.

  Barking out guttural words of magic, Brehane waved her hand. Just like in the drills they practiced. The air crackled as bright flakes of fire dispersed around her shield spell. Her knees buckled, but held. She’d been so stupid, expending so much energy to control the fire before; now Makeda would overpower her.

  Makeda swept a hand through a fire and pointed.

  A fire dart sped toward Brehane. It was just like the scripted Pyromancy drills they did day-in, day-out. She spat out foul syllables. The hissing flames froze inches from her chest. With a sharp exhale, she repelled them. The vitality in her limbs guttered. It took all her effort to focus past the blurring edges of her vision.

  Growling out more sounds, Makeda swept a blazing hand into the path of the dart, absorbing it. Her eyes flickered red in the flames. She stepped through the wall of fire, which surged through her and coalesced at her hand. She extended her palm, which blazed with a fire stronger than even the one from the duel.

  Brehane staggered back, but slammed into the stairwell. What vitality she had left wouldn’t be enough to ward off Makeda’s magic, let alone reinforce the fireshield with a Hydromancy spell. If only she had more power to draw on. Like Makeda had drawn on the fire.

  Pausing, Makeda grinned. “Once you are gone, I will take the crystal that rightfully belongs to me.”

  As candidates, they were equal in power in all schools of magic, save for that of their clan blood. Makeda could draw on the most devastating school, while Biomancy was left only with one pitiful spell. If only Brehane had been born to the Pyro… Wait—her mother had been one of the most powerful Pyromancers before betraying the clan by marrying a lowly Biomancer. With a quick sidestep, she dodged Makeda’s palm strike.

  Makeda pulled her hand back and shrugged. “You’re only delaying the inevitable. Tonight, I’ll take Cassius’ seed, which also belongs to me.”

  A different kind of heat flared in Brehane’s face. Anger? Jealousy? She ducked under Makeda’s flaming swipe and scuttled to the side. If Cassius knew about this treachery, surely he wouldn’t share his…

  Seed… Biomancing could shift energy from one person to another. What was that spell, if not a combination of schools? Transmutation of seed, Bioman
ced into power. It was time to test her theory that all magic was related. Only now, it wasn’t just the clan’s honor at stake. It was her life.

  Makeda growled out more words, gathering more Resonance in her spell than any fireshield Brehane could conjure with her flagging energy. The blazing hand thrust forward.

  As the palm pressed into her, Brehane dug her toes into the ground as she would the bedsheets when she brought a man to release. She arched her back. The guttural words of fire absorption and seed Biomancy escaped her lips.

  Without burning, Makeda’s magic flames surged through Brehane. So did something else: something invigorating, like hot wine on a freezing day. Like peaking during intercourse with a man, receiving his seed and feeling the power surge up her spine.

  Brehane opened her eyes.

  Wobbling on her feet, Makeda gawked. Her skin looked dry and sallow, with a fine wrinkle that hadn’t been there before, radiating from the edge of an eye. A strand of white streaked in the waves of her ebon hair. She rasped out words of Pyromancy and held out her hand, but only sparks fizzled. “Dirty Biomancer…”

  A smile formed on Brehane’s lips, unbidden. It had worked! At least some of her theories were correct. She’d just improvised Biomancy and Pyromancy together, and absorbed some of Makeda’s Pyromancing vitality.

  With renewed energy, a fire flared in Brehane’s hand on her command. She thrust her hand at Makeda’s cowering form.

  And stopped.

  As much as Makeda deserved punishment for her betrayal, they were still family. They shared the same blood, which allowed them to master Pyromancy. She snuffed the flame out. “Go. Anywhere but the University. If I ever see you again, I’ll drain what’s left of you.”

  Eyes wide, Makeda took several steps back, turned, and ran to where a collapsed wall allowed a way out.

  Brehane coughed as the smoke clung to her lungs. Left uncontrolled, the fire would probably spread to the adjoining blocks and burn much of the city to the ground. She ran through the flaming rubble, following the same path as Makeda. Wherever splintered rafters and beams raged with flame, she Pyromanced them down as much as her energy would allow. Perhaps with practice, she could Biomance fire itself into power.