by NAK Baldron
Kelechi placed the paper message into a small carrier and attached it to the bird's leg. The bird remained in the windowsill, trying to avoid going back into the rain, but Kelechi urged the bird to fly off. He watched the blackbird vanish into the rainy night carrying his letter to Emil, who could get it to the Archamethyst—head sorcerer of the Amethyst Nation.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sapphire, Fencura
A large glass pitcher of sweet rice wine rested between Shaya and Ren on a short mahogany table. They relaxed in two oak chairs, built from the same Emerald Nation's forest as the ships anchored in Shinzo's bay. Through the narrow window above the table, Shaya watched the last citizens stumble home. The only light to be seen came from a few lanterns in windows across the cobblestone street. Darkness of the night engulfed the sky and would remain until the source-light rose in the morning, ushering in the start of a new day.
Akio left them to return home—an apartment of his own on the second floor of the west wing. Two floors under Shaya and only six doors north. He'd given her a look which spoke volumes of his concerns, but he would never question her in front of others—even Ren, though he was now named clan member.
"This is quite good." Ren poured himself another glass and offered to top hers off.
Shaya covered her glass—she needed to keep her wits about her. Tomorrow was important and the last thing she needed was a hangover to dull her mind and slow her reflexes.
A strong breeze blew through her front shutters, and the Amethyst Lantern overhead rocked slightly, casting a dance of light and shadows between the two of them. Ren admired her in the way so many men before him had done. She could see his cheeks were flushed red from the wine.
He can't handle his liquor.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what?"
"For everything."
"Nonsense." She took a sip from her glass. "It's I who should thank you. You could have betrayed me to the guards and forsaken your bond to my clan. I'm sure the Emperor would have paid dearly to place an enemy in my midst."
"I mean I wou—"
"I know." She cut him off. He stumbled over his words, either from drinking or being caught off guard. "Still, thank you. Akio and I have been alone for so long. I'd forgotten what it meant to lead a clan." She took another sip from her glass, before she embraced herself.
"I know what you mean." He sat his glass down on the table. "My whole life I've been the orphan boy. Kids at school looked down on me because I'm not inheriting anything and have little chance of success within the Pearl Nation. My only hope is magic, and the slim chance that I could be the one to break the curse . . ."
Ren looked at his hands, avoiding her gaze. Shaya didn't move—she knew all too well the pain of losing family and being the only one left.
"Tomorrow . . ." he found his train of thought, "is the most important day of my life. If I fail. I'll be ruined. I can't go back, and even if I did, there isn't anything there for me. Either I become a sorcerer, or I'm nothing."
"You're Ren of Clan Kaito." Her tone was stern. "You will always have a place here."
"I know you just did that to help me out of a tight spot."
"Nonsense." She brushed his comment away. "When we first met, I knew you were special. I sensed your magic for days and had been searching for you. I'm confident you'll pass the examination and become a great sorcerer, but even if you don't, you'll stay here and be one of us. Akio and I could use someone with your talents."
Ren's face was nearly as red as a crab. He tried to hide his embarrassment with a large drink and emptied his glass of wine.
"I need some fresh air." He stood up clumsily and staggered to the front door.
He must not drink much.
Shaya followed him onto the walkway outside her front door. It was late, and most of the Bloody Square was in bed, deep asleep. Down in the courtyard below, a sparse crowd mingled. Mostly teenagers like themselves. No doubt celebrating early for the examination tomorrow.
Eight men, two teams of four, played Sankakkei while a group of ten girls watched and cheered. Between throws of the ball, one of the teenage boys would run into the crowd of girls and try to steal a kiss—a sort of prize for scoring. The girls would run away, but inevitably one would "fall behind" and offer a kiss.
"What are they doing?" Ren asked.
"Playing Sankakkei." Shaya didn't look at the game. Instead she focused on the stairwell to the Thieves' Market, where two older men staggered out the door leading two girls half their age by the hand.
"No, I mean the girls. Why do they keep running away and then go back?"
He's so naive.
"They're letting the boys chase them. It's a form of courtship. Surely you had similar customs in the Pearl Nation."
"Sort of . . ." He let his voice trail off. "We don't chase one another. It wouldn't be dignified. If a boy liked a girl, he'd ask her to join him for an outing, and the girl's parents would have to approve of him and his family before she would be allowed to go."
"Did you date often?"
"Oh." Ren looked away from the crowd below. "No. As an orphan with no prospects, no parent would approve of me as a choice for their daughter."
"But it's not as if you were asking to marry their daughters."
"Well, in a way I would have been." Ren looked toward the black void of the night sky. "Ever since the plague, we've had to be careful with bloodlines. We can't risk inbreeding, and this means every mother is in charge of tracing bloodlines. They ensure that any partnership will strengthen the family line. Either through strong genes, great wealth, or ideally both."
"What of passion and sex?"
Ren's face flushed again. "Passion and sex are meant for those who are married."
"Strange," Shaya said. "We don't share your inhibitions. Sex is a natural act, and passion is what makes life worth living. One day I'll choose a husband for political reasons. I'll have children to strengthen and continue Clan Kaito, but I'll always be free to follow my passion."
Ren stood mute—his face as red as when they first walked out.
"Your mother would approve of that behavior?" Ren asked.
"My mother died five years ago from an illness." Shaya summoned her face of stone.
"I'm sorry," Ren said. "My mom died when I was two."
"And your father?" Shaya asked.
"I don't know." Ren shrugged his shoulders, and he continued in a soft voice, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "I can't remember what she looks like, but I remember she smelled of lavender."
"I think she would have liked it here." Ren looked up from courtyard at her. "Any time I think of her, I think of spring. What about your father?"
"He was killed when I was very young. He always smelled of leather."
Ren placed his hand on hers, as she held onto the guard rail. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. She remembered her mother's scolding and forced herself back into the face of stone, though she didn't pull her hand away.
"I bet they'd be proud of who you've become, Kaito-Tanken Shaya. You've led your clan with dignity and kept the loyalty of Akio. You carry yourself with honor and the people of Shinzo notice and respect you for it."
His smile was warm and sincere, an odd expression to find on the island.
He's not as young as he looks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Texas, Earth
Wednesday, September 21st
Kandice's phone chimed. There was a text.
Lance: You need to get over here quick. Slava found the mayor's phone.
Kandice rubbed the sleep from her eyes and reread the text.
She didn't bother showering, but did take the three minutes to throw on fresh clothes.
The previous day, Lance had picked her up to get her moped and they trained in the garage for a while. The shifting process was less troublesome each time though her sex drive was at an all-time high. She'd been dreaming of passionate and sometimes violent sex, ever sin
ce the first time.
Lance waited with the front door open as Kandice pulled up, and he wasted no time getting her into the living room. They had the mayor's phone connected to the television and his emails were being displayed. His entire phone was at their disposal. Slava was scribbling notes on a pad of paper. Kandice picked up a pad and pen and sat down.
For ten minutes they sat in silence, writing everything possible—from events to contacts and other information that might be helpful.
Then they lost access.
The screen went black. The phone would reboot but remained on the lock screen.
"Fuck," Lance said. "He must have realized he lost his phone. He's locked us out."
"If he locked the phone," Kandice said. "That means the phone is being tracked. My phone has that function, too."
"How do we get around it?" Slava asked.
"I don't know," she said. "Blake might, though."
She pulled out her phone and called Blake.
"We need your help," she said. "It's to do with the mayor's phone."
"Oh?" he asked.
"We found it, but we lost access."
"Okay, I'll be there ASAP."
"Thanks."
"Until I get there, place the phone in the microwave. I'll explain when I see you."
She didn't bother explaining to the others and placed the mayor's phone in the microwave. It spoke volumes to the level of trust developed between them, that neither Slava nor Lance questioned her actions—even if they found it odd.
It was almost an hour before Blake arrived.
Kandice heard Lance greet him. "Thanks for coming. We're in the living room."
"How did you find the phone?" Blake asked.
"Yeah," Kandice said. "I didn't even think to ask with all the commotion."
"It's all thanks to Slava," Lance said.
"I have been able to follow him," Slava said. "He was in a bank this morning. I got it out of his coat pocket."
"That's slick," Blake said. "Where's the phone now?"
"We put it in the microwave, like you told us to," Kandice said.
"Good," he said. "Leave it there for now."
They showed him the notes as well, other than Slava's. As his were in Russian, and not even Lance could read them.
Blake took out his laptop from his backpack. He pulled out an antenna and plugged it into the laptop. He explained that he was boosting his Wi-Fi signal to find a neighbor's signal. Mr. Shaffer's password hadn't changed from when they lived there, so Blake could use his Wi-Fi.
* * *
Kandice and Lance came back from the grocery store and started cooking lunch. Blake was still online, trying to find someone who could access the mayor's accounts. Since Lance had been smart enough to copy down the mayor's email addresses, Blake wanted to find a hacker who would take payment to get in.
Blake explained the biggest problem was the mayor was using two email accounts. The private account would be easier to get into, but his Gmail account would be the hardest. He might crack the private account himself, but he'd never be able to get around Google's security.
Kandice and Lance both nodded, but Kandice did not understand what the hell he was talking about. She knew how to use a computer, but was clueless for the higher-level security shit. Lance must have been in the same boat because he kept asking Blake if he had it under control. Not being in control of the situation must be a new feeling for him.
They focused their energy on making lunch. Slava was in his room, taking a nap. He'd still been pulling night shifts to stalk the mayor and it had paid off. Kandice just hoped that Blake was able to pull off his part.
Lance and her made mashed potatoes, steamed asparagus, and pan-fried steaks. By the time they set the table, Blake had found three people willing to take the job. The cheapest of which would be 8.3 Bitcoins.
"What are those?" Kandice asked.
"I've heard of these," Lance said. "They're online currency that criminals use."
"Sort of," Blake said. "They are an online currency, but you can use them everywhere. Online, and in stores."
He explained there were several businesses around town that accepted Bitcoins and that it was easy to sell them for actual money if you wanted. The problem was, 8.3 Bitcoins would run them about fifty-five hundred dollars.
"I wish I had that kind of money lying around," Blake said.
"Do you think that's a fair price?" Lance asked.
"The next lowest was a full ten Bitcoins."
"Okay. How do we buy the coins?"
"There's several websites, but are you telling me you've got five grand lying around?" Blake took a bite of potatoes.
Kandice took a bite of her steak. It was bloody, just the way she liked it.
"No," Lance said through a mouthful of food. "But we can get it quickly."
Blake coughed, almost choking. He had to clear his throat before speaking.
"I'm not going to be a part of some kind of bank robbery."
"It's nothing like that," Lance said. "I'll just need to sell some gold."
"What do you mean?" Blake asked.
Lance didn't continue, so Kandice stepped in. "Can I tell him?" she asked Lance, and he grunted.
She explained Lance and Slava's gold making abilities. He wanted to know if he could get some as a finder's fee for new parts for his computer. They agreed that eight hundred dollars for a finder's fee was fine.
"We'll also make some extra for your car," Lance said.
"You're getting a car?" Blake asked.
"It's for work," Lance said.
She gave Blake a look to drop it, and they ate the rest of the meal in silence.
CHAPTER NINE
Sapphire Nation, Fencura
Adaku and Abaze pushed their way through the crowd blocking the Emperor's courtyard, a rectangular stone garden walled in on four sides. They felt out-of-place because of the lack of greenery. The stone garden was large enough to accommodate five-thousand people and still leave room for the examination platform in the middle. Guards mingled in groups of two sprinkled throughout the crowd. While four lines of guards created a squared-off barrier between the spectators and the five Amethyst Examiners atop the wooden platform raised four feet off the stone courtyard.
Adaku was pushed from behind by the crowd of people and stumbled into a man.
"Bony bitch!" The drunken man spat—the stench of ale lingered on his breath.
Abaze's jambiya—an ornate curved dagger—was against the drunk's throat before he could utter another word. "Apologize and kiss her feet, or I'll bathe the stones with your blood."
The man's eyes lost their glossy appearance and his pupils drew into pinpoints. "Apologies mistress." He lowered himself to his knees and kissed her feet. "I beg your forgiveness."
Adaku pushed the man away with her foot and transmitted to her brother, put that away before a guard sees you. We're not in father's city anymore. You're not a noble prince here.
Abaze heeded her wisdom. "Be gone with you before I change my mind."
The drunk didn't bother to stand up fully before darting away from them into the crowd. The few people who'd taken notice of the encounter turned away from the twins and returned their attention to their own affairs. An examination was a time for celebration. That meant a few spectators would lose control, drink too much, and likely die. Shinzo was accustomed to blood spilled in the streets to protect honor, though rarely before high noon.
"Damn peasants shouldn't be allowed to attend." Abaze kicked pebbles in the direction the drunk had scampered off.
"Focus on the task at hand," Adaku said, and not for the first time.
She was always keeping her brother's temper in check. Abaze had grown arrogant over the past six years, since their father scolded him for chasing that peasant girl. He found it easier to accept their father's twisted view of the world than stand up to him and claim his rightful place as Prince of Zaria.
"We're here to pass our exams and take our
rightful place as Amethyst Sorcerers," she added.
Abaze spat at the ground and secured his dagger in a sheath decorated with gold and emeralds found in his father's mines. A forest-green sash tied around his waist kept the dagger close at hand and visible for all the world to see. Men weren't considered proper men in the Emerald Nation unless they carried a blade, and honor prevented them from ever disarming. Which led to more than one misunderstanding outside their own nation. It was a major reason they didn't leave the central continent unless required.
"Father says we shouldn't debase ourselves by mixing with commoners," Abaze said. "Even if the Amethyst Examination is open to all of Fencura."
Adaku kept her mind closed off. She knew it was pointless to argue with him about their father's views of the world. Regardless, they were a team. Separate they might pass the examination, but together they were guaranteed to pass. Their instructor from the Amethyst Nation told them so and provided a writ asserting as much. If anything, this examination was a formality.
Abaze wiped sweat from his brow with the tail of his head wrap. The source-light was more intense than normal, but not unheard of for examination days.
"Attention. Attention," a younger woman said from atop the platform. A fellow Emerald Nation descendant.
They'd been warned, to join the Amethyst Nation they'd have to swear allegiance to the nation and put it before their ties back home. But everyone knew it was a formality, not an actual oath backed by blood. The Amethyst Nation had never been known to kill. Besides, no oath they took could override the oaths they'd taken to their kingdom. At best, they could learn to balance their allegiances and only do what was best for both nations.
