"This is your target," he shoved his comp-vid at me.
He knew this one was very similar to the last—who'd killed Kault. "We can't hand him over to someone else to kill after we take him, so you're going to have to step up."
He knew what killing did to me—I would be disabled for weeks. He had no concept of the pain I suffered during that time; he'd curse me and my failings instead. Somehow, his obsession couldn't get past the illness that overwhelmed me whenever I ended a life on his command.
"Perhaps you should have bought some other wizard's child," I said, surprised by my own temerity.
"There weren't any others suitable," he snapped before slapping my face. "Get yourself together. I will accompany you to ensure that this termination is done properly."
"Of course." I bowed my head to the one who'd mastered me.
This would be nothing like Prime Minister Fallah's death, where the actual killing was done by another. All I had to do was move the body afterward, following D'slay's command to fix her internal organs to hide any trace of the acid employed in her death. I'd left the tiniest clue behind to indicate the manner of her death, but Security Forces on Corez turned out to be more incompetent than anticipated.
Now, D'slay wanted me to kill his next target.
Against my will.
State House, Corez
Lissa
"Is something wrong?" Winkler asked. He, Rigo and I were waiting for breakfast in Rigo's study before diving into more of the information we'd gotten from Milli and Faram. If those who worked the same jobs on Le-Ath Veronis supplied notes as bad as theirs, they'd be relieved of their duties quickly.
"I wish Faram's notes were as easy to read as Trevor's," I set my comp-vid on the table with a sigh. "Something makes me feel halfway itchy, too, but I can't quite figure out what's causing it."
"Trevor's notes are clear, concise and you can trust his observations," Rigo, who stood nearby, turned toward Winkler and me. We'd taken our seats at the table, waiting for food to be delivered. Rigo, on the other hand, was restless for some reason.
A knock on the door was followed by two servants wheeling in a cart filled with covered dishes. Any other wizard would have known to hide or dampen the scent of his partner in crime.
This one hadn't.
Even with time to consider other options, I'd still have come to the same decision, since I had no way of knowing what would come of it.
Ignoring the wizard, I aimed straight for the disguised Sirenali who guided the cart, blasting him to bits with power I barely realized I'd gathered. Winkler and I latched onto the wizard with power, so he couldn't escape.
Something pulled back against our hold on him; we struggled against an unknown strength that wanted the wizard as badly as we did. For the smallest of moments we held him, until our vision blurred for barely a second and our power skipped a beat.
Winkler howled the moment the wizard disappeared with a frightened shriek; we were helpless to stop him.
That surprised both of us.
The next surprise was even more unexpected—an earthquake rumbled into existence beneath our feet. It shook the foundations of the State House and rippled outward through the city, knocking down buildings and splitting streets with the massive roar of an angry beast.
Royal Palace Grounds, Galk
Reah
The good news here is we got everybody out. The bad news is that much of the palace is unsafe, if not reduced to rubble, I reported to Lissa. The earthquake here happened shortly after yours on Corez.
Zaria and her Larentii held the palace together on Kwark, but much of the city around it is in ruins. I suppose it's some sort of victory that D'slay appears to be dead, but his wizard got away. I suspect that all the earthquakes were a direct result of D'slay's death.
If you're saying this is by the Prophet's hand, then you are likely correct, Zaria joined our conversation. Alrenardo misted Tamp and the Queen out of the palace on Hraede, but many other occupants weren't so lucky. He says at least sixteen are dead from falling debris or walls collapsing on them.
What about Zanfield and the others on Murazal? I asked.
They weren't in the State House when the quake happened, and Travis and Trent managed to put a shield over them while Zanfield spoke at a court official's retirement party.
Zaria, is there a way to track the wizard? Lissa asked.
I can ask Randl to come have a look where he disappeared.
He'll have to stand on air; the entire room collapsed.
I think I can manage that for him.
How quickly can he be here?
He's on the way now.
State House, Corez
Zaria
Valegar and I shielded everyone there while Randl, standing on an air support I'd supplied, touched marble fragments where D'slay and the wizard had stood.
Minutes passed as Randl considered this fragment or that, before dropping the one he held and lifting another.
Finally, he turned toward me. "I see D'slay and his death," Randl confirmed. "As for the wizard, there's no evidence that he was ever here."
"How is that possible?" Lissa demanded. I'd already seen the images of the wizard in her and Winkler—I knew it to be true.
"Perhaps whatever pulled him away erased all traces of him, too, although I'm very interested in how that could be accomplished," Randl replied. "My concern is whether the Prophet will be satisfied with this method of revenge, or if he has other things planned to make us pay."
"My bet is on the latter," Zaria sighed. "He won't stop until he's destroyed everything, but that was his intention all along. Killing D'slay may have convinced him to move his plans forward, but I think they were already in place."
"Then all we have to do is figure out what those plans are," Lissa rubbed her forehead.
"I can fix the headache," I offered.
"Please. I can't think anymore."
Emergency Shelter, Murazal
Zanfield Staggs
"Miz, Lev and Mae are now doing our work on Sirena," Dave informed me as he and Sabrina thumbed through images, "since they can't leave the planet without the Prophet picking up their location."
We needed engineers and architects to assess the damage throughout the capital city. I didn't trust anyone else to give me accurate information. "This bridge between business complexes needs to be closed," Sabrina handed a comp-vid to me. "The piers and pier caps could fail any moment."
The bridge in question connected two complexes the size of small cities that stood on massive piers of their own on a large lake. "I'll take care of it." Travis began tapping on his comp-vid.
"The passenger train to both complexes travels that bridge," I pointed out. We may have to transport trapped employees another way. What about the piers beneath those complexes? Are they holding up?"
"Checking that now," Sabrina replied.
"Update on current death toll," Trent announced.
"Let me see it." His comp-vid was set in front of me at my makeshift desk. "Nearly three thousand," I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fucking Prophet," I growled.
"So far, the only positive in all this is that D'slay is dead," Travis responded.
"At this cost?" I tapped Trent's comp-vid. "Damn. Can this day get any worse?"
"Don't tempt fate," Dave cautioned. "We don't need worse."
"Kwark has the fewest casualties," Trent said when I handed his comp-vid back. "But they had several Larentii there to dampen the earthquake and minimize the damage."
"I was hoping we'd find you here," Kell and Opal folded in. "We just came from talking with Ildevar and Tybus. As you imagine, they're not pleased with these simultaneous events on five hub worlds, because that points to a single perpetrator. We may be forced to inform both Alliances of how dangerous the Prophet has become."
"Five hub worlds?"
"Hraede was hit, too, along with Corez, Galk, Kwark and Murazal."
"Hraede completely slipped my mind, I apologize,
" I said. "This makes it so much worse. You're right Dave, I shouldn't have tempted fate," I turned to nod at the dwarf. "How did the Prophet do this—attack five worlds at once?" I asked Kell.
"We don't know, yet. I wish we could have gotten our hands on that wizard—we may have learned a lot from him, but he's probably with the Prophet, now."
"Wherever that is," Travis grumbled.
"We've already Looked; if the Prophet used anything other than raw power to cause the damage to five hub worlds, we can't find it," Opal said. "That means he's either grown more powerful, or he's hidden the catalysts behind bone dust."
"I think I agree with Zaria on this—she said he likely had all this in place before; we merely activated his plans earlier than he intended by killing D'slay."
"I hope you're both right," Opal sighed. "Otherwise, it's terrifying."
"I agree with Zanfield," Travis said. "All this happened immediately after D'slay was killed. Did he even have time to pull that much power in before unleashing it in five directions? And why attack the other worlds on a whim when D'slay died on Corez?"
"Unless he already had something in place," Kell nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense, I suppose."
"I think that—and the disappearances of several of our colleagues means he knows we're filling in for the actual leaders of those hub worlds," Trent voiced the worry that bothered me most. "I figure he realizes that we won't die so easy, but he can sure get to some of us, as well as the planets and their population."
"Are Ildevar and Tybus preparing a statement, in case it's necessary to warn the Alliances?" Perri asked softly.
"They are—that's what the meeting was about. They'll hold back until it's absolutely necessary, but the statement is being written now."
"Zan," she took my hand and squeezed my fingers, "I want to go to the State House, to see whether I can detect any power residue from the quake."
"Sweetheart, I'm not sure it's safe," I argued.
"Zan, that asshole took the King of Karathia. My King. I'm really angry about that. If there's something I can do about it, then I have to try. I'll keep a bubble shield around the rest of me; I only need to touch a few things with my hands to search for a power signature."
"My love, you could be risking your life," I responded.
She went still and blinked at me. I didn't understand for a moment.
You called her your love. I think she's a little stunned, Travis sent.
I'd been holding that back, not wanting to crowd her or push her in any way, considering her past and how she'd been abused by her uncle Alken. If I ever got my hands on that piece of filth, he wouldn't survive.
"If you really want to go, then I'm coming with you. If something happens, it will happen to both of us." I stood and pulled her into a hug.
Travis
Even Kell and Opal went with us to the State House, or what remained of it. Kell found the most stable portion near the epicenter of the damage, and Opal employed power to keep the broken stone and rubble where it was until Perri could touch what she wanted.
Zanfield refused to leave Perri's side and walked carefully over the wreckage with her until she found a likely spot. With one hand, she gripped Zanfield's arm. With the other, she leaned down to touch the stones.
Perri's audible, indrawn breath made all of us jump. "Murazal is in trouble," she squeaked.
"We already know," Dave began.
"No. Murazal, the planet's spirit. He's in trouble."
"Who has him?" Trent demanded.
"Nobody," Randl appeared as if called. "Nobody carries Murazal—he, Kwark, Galk, and Corez remained neutral in all this."
"Zaria carries Hraede," Opal said. "Is he or she in danger, too?"
"I'll ask," Randl said before going silent for a moment.
Zaria arrived moments later, three Larentii with her. "Hraede went silent after the quake," she said, sounding worried. "This isn't good."
Falchan—Past
Drake
Sundown had come, and the last line of invaders was beginning to waver, until the first few turned and ran.
Had fear for their lives finally kicked in, or had these not been affected by the raver drugs like the others before them? Regardless, the rest of their army had died on Falchani blades—and one vampire's claws.
The losses on our side were just as steep as the history books claimed they were. Bodies of friend and foe littered the field behind us; the ground was slippery with blood and everywhere were discarded weapons and war trophies.
Gavin, I shouted mentally, as he began to chase after more enemy deserters. I shouldn't have bothered; he was already on them as they raced toward a far stand of trees. Even weary beyond reckoning, a vampire will still outrun a humanoid.
"Let's go get him," Drew came up beside me, breathing hard.
"Damn. I guess we'll have to—he's chasing after the first deserters, now."
Without much motivation, we began our walk toward the trees, where Gavin was about to disappear.
"What was that?" Drew hissed as a light appeared quickly amid the trees, only to disappear just as quickly.
"I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me," I confessed.
"I don't think that's it, bro." Drew broke into a run. With legs screaming for rest, I forced myself to follow him.
Murazal
Nissa
If we hadn't formed invisibility shields around ourselves, we'd have been seen by the troubling number of ragged, desperate souls we found on a trampled path, heading toward the capital city. Toff, Trik and I'd already had a heated argument about warning them that there was nothing but violence waiting there for them.
We finally concluded that if they tried to attack us, we could end up harming them, so remaining invisible appeared to be the best course of action. We chose to listen to their conversation, but there was very little other than talk of disease, hunger and the need of basic shelter.
When we reached the first pile of bodies, which were being loaded into what looked like a garbage shuttle, we stopped still and held our breath.
Still, the travelers passed them by as if they didn't see it.
They don't see the ones loading the bodies, Toff hissed in mindspeech.
They don't see the bodies, either, Trik added. Or hear the hover-loaders.
They don't look starved, either—the ones doing the loading, I pointed out. Their clothes aren't rags like the others.
Should we ask them, I began.
No! Toff and Trik said in unison. Listen closer, Toff went on, some of them aren't speaking Alliance common.
What language is that? I asked.
Something I know a lot about, and that's not a good thing. They're using a language very similar to that spoken by the Green Fae. That means they're fae of some sort, and there isn't any way they'd willingly stoop to heaving bodies into a garbage shuttle, unless someone more powerful ordered them to.
Is it evidence of the Prophet's hand in all this?
It could be. We just have to escape their notice and try to find out where they're going with that load of bodies.
I'd bet three Grey House jewels that those bodies are infected by Prophet's disease, Trik growled.
I wish we could send mindspeech to Mom, I said. I'm afraid that if we approach them to place a spell-tag on the shuttle, the Prophet will know. We're not strong enough to stand against that.
I'm not sure anybody is strong enough for that, Trik agreed. It's obvious they're taking those bodies off-world; that shuttle will get them to the space station, where a ship is likely waiting.
Do you think all these people are infected—they just haven't realized it yet?
If the Prophet is involved, I'd say it's very likely, Toff said. He's killing all of them, albeit slowly.
Supply and demand? Killing sufficient numbers to get the desired amount of bone dust to spread elsewhere and infect new victims?
That's terrifying, Trik shook his head. How can anyone be this evil?
I hear the one who created him set him on this path, I said. That sounds like double or triple the amount of evil imaginable. It's so horrible, it's beyond my comprehension.
Unless he was obsessed, he had a choice in the matter, Trik pointed out.
There's that, I conceded. Nobody got to choose their parents or relatives. It was up to them to decide how they lived their lives. Trik understood that; he found his father's sins and criminal activity repugnant in the extreme. If anyone could be the exact opposite of Zellar, then Trik was that person. He knew Toff and I loved him, no matter who he was related to.
I think you should put a spelled mental record together, Toff said. In case we don't make it, maybe they'll find us and check our remains for that sort of thing.
Of all the wizard clans, only Grey House wizards held that ability, and the record would last as long as there was a single cell of a single bone left to relay the message.
Good idea. I'm beginning now.
Corez
Vik
We'd reached the lake and drank our fill before examining the hulk of a crashed shuttle near our landing location. "This isn't an Alliance shuttle," Denevik pointed out the markings on a twisted piece of metal.
"No, that's from Greval, according to the markings." I named a world that wasn't a member of either Alliance.
"I thought Greval was dying from some sort of rampant disease," Denevik said.
"That was seven years ago. Besides, who better to steal from? I doubt the Prophet gets choosy when he sees ships and shuttles for the taking, and if the planet is too sick to fight back, even better."
"Why do you suppose this one crashed?"
"No idea. It doesn't appear to have been shot down," I sorted through more of the wreckage. "Maybe Greval wasn't big on safety measures, should the engine fail."
"Looks like it's been here for at least a year or more," Denevik noted. "No sign of bodies inside, either."
Perhaps it was crashed on purpose, Meerius suggested. If those inside were infected with Prophet's disease, what better way to spread it?
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