Masters of Deception

by J C Kang

  Lunging forward, Cassius whipped his rapier out and drove it into the man’s sword arm. He dashed to catch up with the carriage, which had come to a stop half a block away. Cassius started to look over his shoulder, then thought the better of it. He’d fought in self-defense, and to protect the driver. Those men would likely survive their wounds, anyway.

  Cassius climbed back aboard and patted the driver on the shoulder. “Good job. Are you all right?”

  The driver nodded. “Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s get out of here. To the South Seas. If any more mobsters try to stop us, just run them over next time.” Cassius settled back into his chair and pondered the situation.

  The Bovyan, Phobos, had lied when they’d made their deal the other day. The Mafia families were never a threat to the pyramid, but he’d exploited Cassius’ Gods-ordained duty to protect it in exchange for turning over Brehane. But why? Or was it just a distraction, to hide their real goals? And what motivation did Signore De Lucca have for attacking the crime families? He stood to lose a lot if the city fell into civil disorder. In fact, even if they did overcome the Mafia, De Lucca’s brothels might suffer if his patrons thought the former Mafia whorehouses were now safe, cheaper alternatives. Maybe…

  Cassius’ eyes fluttered open as the carriage jolted over a large rock on the hard-packed road. He blinked several times, then turned to find the Iridescent Moon now waning to its second crescent. He’d been so tired he’d drifted off in hostile territory. He must’ve been asleep for more than a half hour. At least his muddled head felt nominally better. A little more rest, and maybe he could Divine, once.

  He coughed several times. With the recent dry weather, the carriage wheels and horse hooves had kicked up dust. They’d left the city center and driven to where two-story gambling dens and brothels flanked unpaved roads. It was quiet, even for an early afternoon. No Mafia enforcers stood outside the doors. Perhaps most had organized and counter-attacked the Signore-controlled districts.

  Cassius’ chest squeezed. The mansion might be protected by his guards, but the megalith circle…

  Up ahead, a single figure strode through the otherwise empty street, sun at his back. The scene was reminiscent of the popular novels which depicted showdowns between a single hero and single villain.

  “Stop,” Cassius told the driver. His hand tightened around his rapier hilt. This person might very well be another villain.

  The carriage slowed. The person drew closer, and his hand made no move toward the large blade at his side.

  Cassius blinked.

  It was the Paladin Master.

  Tipping his chin, Cassius waved him down. “Master Anish! Where are Brehane and Sameer?”

  The Paladin looked up and slowed a step. Then, head bobbing, he motioned behind him. “They are chasing Bovyans to Signore De Lucca’s plantation.”

  “Whatever for?”

  Master Anish harrumphed. “My fool apprentice thinks the Bovyans have Sohini.”

  “You seem certain they don’t.”

  “I might be more sure, if your Divining worked better.” The Paladin pressed his palms together and started off.

  “Master Anish,” Cassius called, hoping to avoid a repeat of the last Mafia attack. “Rest your feet. Come ride in my carriage.”

  The Paladin afforded him a scathing glance. “I have other business to attend to.”

  Cassius sighed. Even if he hadn’t gained the Paladin’s protection, at least this encounter saved him a trip to the South Seas. He motioned to the driver. “Head to Signore De Lucca’s new plantation.”

  With a nod, the driver turned the carriage down another street. Up ahead, six Bovyans in chainmail marched in the middle of the street. They had no marks revealing whether they worked for the crime families or De Lucca, but the all evidence, as it came together in Cassius’ foggy head, suggested they had their own agenda.

  They broke formation to make way for the carriage.

  Cassius waved to get their attention. “What are you doing here?”

  The leader came closer, revealing Captain Baros from the banquet the night before. His eyes roved over the carriage before he thumped a fist on his chest. “Signore De Lucca ordered us to disarm the crime families and establish order.”

  “Just six of you?” Cassius raised an eyebrow.

  “We have two hundred men sweeping through the mob territories.”

  Two hundred! All obeying Signore De Lucca. Captain Baros had said something about four hundred total Bovyans in the city. De Lucca had wanted to bring a thousand more to protect the pyramid. Housed in his barracks, fed by his plantations, entertained by his whores. Perhaps his goal wasn’t just to eliminate the Mafia, but to take control of the entire city-state and surrounding lands, using a small army of Bovyan mercenaries. Or, the Bovyans were just manipulating De Lucca to gain a foothold in the region.

  For now, though, they would make this foray into Mafia territory safe. Cassius dipped his chin. “Thank you for all your hard efforts in enforcing the law.”

  Captain Baros thumped his chest again. “It is our pleasure, Signore. Bringing order to chaos was our Divine mission.”

  And yet, they’d served both the Mafia and the Signores. No doubt they had plans of their own. Perhaps they were the threat to the pyramid, and De Lucca was their unwitting means of allowing them to take it without force. Their other Divine mission was conquest of the sundered Arkothi Empire, including the Estomar.

  Chapter 24:

  Redemption of Sorts

  Wondering what the half-elf had planned after her shrill whistle, Brehane stood beside Sameer outside the compound as a Bovyan opened the heavy wooden gate. The Paladin apprentice fidgeted, staring as if the gate couldn’t open any slower.

  It budged just wide enough to frame the hulking brute. He studied both of them, his eyes finally fixing on her. “What do you want?”

  What did they want? Jie had said to cause a distraction and sent the signal, but hadn’t specified what. Brehane bowed her head. “Signore De Lucca invited us to visit his plantation.”

  “Signore De Lucca?” The Bovyan’s face contorted even more than a Transmuter could accomplish in clay. He looked over his shoulder. After a second, he turned back and opened the door a little wider. “You may come in, my lady. The Ayuri may not.”

  If this compound really was a pleasure house for Teleri soldiers, walking right in, alone, didn’t seem like the brightest idea. Especially after she’d learned how vile and corrupted their culture was. “On second thought—”

  Sameer sidled past her. The Bovyan reached for him. Like at Cassius’ mansion the night before, he moved like a blur, slipping right by. He disappeared into the compound.

  The Bovyan turned and gave chase, leaving the door unguarded. Shouts erupted inside.

  Brehane stared at the opening. After expending so much energy on calming the burning Acerbi building, she might not have enough energy to escape if the need arose. And arise it probably would.

  Still, Sameer would need help. Foolish Paladin. Foolish, noble Paladin, who’d risked his life to rescue as many people as he could from the conflagration. He was nothing like the treacherous Bahaduur of the past. She squared her shoulders, pulled the door open, and strode in.

  Inside the walls, four Bovyans surrounded Sameer, his little rapier looking like a toy compared to their hefty longswords. More Teleri swarmed out of the barracks. In moments, they’d engulf him like a Hydromancer’s wave.

  He didn’t move as fast as before, yet the Teleri might’ve been slogging through webs the way he dodged their attacks. Though he misused his rapier, he twirled it in arcs so fast that it looked like a solid, curving wall.

  Brehane turned to the onrush of Bovyans from the barracks. So close to the pyramid, the Resonance coursed through her, replenishing her. Unlike her reaction to the chaos of the Mafia den, the words and motions of magic came easily. She splayed her fingers and growled out the syllables which would combine Transmuting
, Geomancy, and Aeromancy. Her vitality flickered.

  Webbing shot out from her fingers, wide enough to envelop the first three men. They stumbled to the ground, while the five behind them careened into the first rank. Another few managed to jump to the side, but many still slammed into their comrades.

  Energy flagging, she blurted out more words of sorcery. More sticky strands sprayed out from her hands, pasting another Bovyan against the barracks door. Three, four—no, six—had managed to avoid her webs, only to meet Sameer’s blade.

  The door to the barracks thumped and buckled, but held fast under her webs. She’d done it! Casting spells under duress, where she’d failed just hours before. Her chest filled with pride. And relief.

  With the lull, Sameer hunched over and panted. His head turned to her, and nodded. “Thank you.”

  A grin formed on her lips, unbidden, as she strode over to him. Who would’ve thought a Mystic and Paladin, enemies three hundred years ago, would work so well together?

  Teleri writhed around him, moaning through clenched teeth. Their weapons lay scattered out of reach. None appeared dead, with most suffering cuts and stabs to their limbs.

  She pointed to them. “You spared them all?”

  Straightening, Sameer nodded. He held up the rapier and twisted it back and forth in the sunlight. “It looks quite fragile, but slapping with the thin blade or raking with the tip makes it easy to incapacitate an opponent without causing fatal injuries. Even if the council expels me from the order, I will strive to live like a Paladin.”

  Noble and foolish, indeed. She studied his earnest expression.

  The barracks door thumped again, louder this time. The webbing stretched, and it looked like some of the fibers were fraying.

  She turned back to him. “Now what?”

  “I’m going to find Sohini.” He marched toward the central building.

  The door to it swung open, revealing a Bovyan armed with a longsword.

  Sameer held his hand up to her. “No webs. I need to get in.”

  She snorted. “I didn’t think you needed help against one.”

  The two warriors met, and in just a second the Bovyan was sprawled on the ground. Sameer kicked the man’s sword out of reach. In three steps, he’d entered.

  She started after him, when the Resonance shifted. She stopped in her tracks and looked around.

  The door to the barracks flung open…not from her webs snapping, but rather from them disappearing. She gaped. How had that happened? Bovyans couldn’t use any magic.

  And now, several of their eyes were locked on her.

  The only way to gain time was to seal them behind the doorway. She splayed her fingers again and grunted out the web spell. The Resonance shifted again, and her threads dispersed into wisps as soon as they left her fingers. Her energy guttered, her knees wobbling against the strain.

  Why was her magic failing? Even at full strength, her repertoire of spells didn’t include fireblasts or lightning bolts. Fire darts and ice bolts could only affect two or three at most.

  Heart racing, she turned and darted toward the door to the main building. It would be safer with Sameer, though maybe she’d just get in his way.

  The door slammed shut.

  Brehane yanked at it, but it held firm. Over her shoulder, the Bovyans were checking on their injured comrades, but several were striding toward her. She raked her gaze across the compound. To the right stood a well and stables; to the left, a single-story wood building.

  Maybe on a horse, she could keep the Bovyans running around in circles. Not like she’d ridden a horse in over a decade. She ran toward the stables. Behind her, the Bovyans didn’t appear to be in any rush to catch her.

  And why not? As long as they covered all the exits, she and Sameer were trapped.

  Inside the stables, the earthy scent of hay and horse assaulted her nose. Her stomach roiled as her eyes adjusted to the lower light. There were at least eight stalls, with tack and harness hanging from nails on the wall. The nickering and neighing of horses was reminiscent of minor demons dragged from Hell by Summoners.

  She hurried over to the first stall. The horse inside had no saddle or tack. Nor did the horses in the next few stalls. Did they not wear it at all times? They all looked agitated, ears pinned back and tails swishing. If only she were a Kanin shaman, with their supposed ability to influence animals.

  The stomp of boots came closer.

  Stomach twisting, she ducked into an empty stall.

  What a stupid idea, coming to the stables. Now she was trapped, and there was no telling what the Teleri soldiers would do to a trespasser.

  Light footsteps crept through the middle of the stable. Why would a Bovyan even bother trying to sneak in? Maybe they thought she had more magic to draw on.

  It was time to bluff. She opened her fingers and took a stance which projected much more confidence than she felt.

  The stall door started to creak.

  Her heart lodged in her throat.

  The door swung open, revealing…

  Nothing.

  Shoulders sagging, Brehane blew out a breath of air. The Bovyan must’ve waited, expecting her to throw a spell. She listened.

  More boots clopped near the entrance to the stable. “She came in here.”

  They hadn’t even entered? Then how had the door opened?

  Now though, they were coming this way. She straightened and arranged her face in the most ferocious expression she could muster.

  Bovyan boots came closer. “Not in any of these.”

  A warm, firm body pushed up against her back. A hand clamped over her mouth.

  Her heart, which had settled from her throat back into its rightful place only seconds ago, just about stopped.

  “Shhhh.” The voice tickled her ear. Something cold pressed into her neck. The Resonance shifted.

  Above the stall doors, a Bovyan face appeared and peered in.

  Every muscle locked up.

  He looked right at her. Then his head shook, and he turned away. “Nobody here, either.”

  Nobody? Brehane raised her hands, only to not see them.

  “Do another sweep outside.” The bootsteps hurried out.

  Brehane’s muscles relaxed. Her body materialized out of thin air.

  The hands on her shoulders spun her around.

  Nothing was there.

  Then a human form blinked into existence, hand in his plain grey robes.

  Melas.

  He looked older than before, with white streaking through his tight black coils. His broad nose and large lips made his eyes look even smaller.

  “Teacher Melas,” she said, clasping his hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been watching you, ever since I heard of your arrival in Tokahia.”

  “I thought I saw you! Near Cassius’ megalith. And then in the Mafia den.”

  He nodded. “You always were talented.”

  “You knew we were here. Why didn’t you reveal yourself?”

  His head turned in slow shakes. “And risk capture? Makeda would happily drag me back to Sodorol in chains for breaking the Conclave’s rules.”

  Makeda’s ambitions knew no end. Brehane shuddered. Then again, she herself had planned to bring Melas back, and take her rightful place at the university. There was no other way to restore the Biomancer clan’s honor. “Then why did you help me now?”

  “When you came here with the Ayuri, I knew you would get in trouble.”

  “You followed us here?”

  Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth, then shut it, then spoke. “Yes. You don’t know what the Teleri do to women. They are breeding an army here.”

  Brehane’s head spun. This society was so backward. Women were reduced to objects of pleasure, to be used. Then again, her own people did the same to men back home. No wonder Melas didn’t want to return. How could she force him?

  At the same time, how could she give up on her dreams? Her hand strayed to her jewel. �
�Will you not return to the university?”

  His eyes followed. “Why would I? Why would you? You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The power of the pyramid has allowed me to experiment with my magic, without some useless matriarch or master looking over my shoulder, trying to steal my work. I am rediscovering the old Illusionist skills.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. He was right. And if he’d accomplished invisibility and the First Mystic knew what else, perhaps she could do the same with Biomancy.

  His grin spread wide as he nodded. “Yes. Imagine: an Illusionist and Biomancer, whose tribal conflict before the Hellstorm led to the loss of our respective clans’ magic, working together to revive it. After I teach you everything they would at the university, we will learn as much as we can here. Then, we can travel to the pyramid in Arkos and expand our skills even more.”

  Brehane’s heart soared. As a teacher, Melas knew the fundamentals of all the schools. Instead of going back to the university and playing by the Conclave’s rules, and clawing her way through all the obstacles they’d put up, she could return as a full-fledged Mystic, ready to restore the clan’s honor. She nodded. “Yes, yes! Let’s save my Ayuri friend and get out of here.”

  “It’s too risky.” He waved his hands and grunted out some sounds. The Resonance shifted.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “I made you invisible.”

  She held up her hands.

  They weren’t there.

  “Can’t we help him like this?” She raised an eyebrow, though he wouldn’t see it.

  He shook his head. “If you try to attack someone, the spell will dissipate. Take my hand.”

  It was hard, when her own hand was invisible. With a few attempts, her palm found his. He grinned, then reached into his robe pocket and blinked out.

  “How?” she asked.

  Melas’ disembodied voice spoke: “I infused a bead with invisibility. I can save energy this way. Come on.” He gave a tug.

  The first few steps felt strange, until she stopped looking at the ground. He guided her out of the stables and back through the compound. Bovyans swept through the grounds, yelling as they searched.