“Done,” she said, opening the door silently. Lazurien was indeed a young Haillar woman of many talents.
We continued single file along a corridor that led to a catwalk, a handrail secured platform following the sidewall above the open space below, which seem to be the local equivalent of a warehouse. A decrepit one by the look of it.
The kreussa were indeed downstairs, manoeuvring their bulky chest in a niche between two towering piles of assorted junk. Except for the Sen’Aesir, none of us had any experience in detective work, yet it didn’t take a genius to realise the envoys’ luggage had no business being in this place. One of the thugs for hire flipped a device and mumbled something unintelligible, and moments later the entire crew left without further words.
“Now what?” asked Charles.
Lazurien made herself comfortable with her back to the wall and invited the biologist to seat next to her.
“Now, we wait. And meanwhile, we have plenty of time to swap stories. I’m particularly interested to learn about the day to day life of a young woman living in your world. Did I correctly understand that you are a scholar in one of your most prestigious teaching establishments and you actually lecture human students my age?”
For the first time since I knew him, Charles looked positively horrified.
✽✽✽
It was almost night-time when we heard the lock mechanism. Several people with portable torches entered the warehouse, then one of them turned on the lights. Luckily the appliances were at ground floor level, focusing the light on the items in storage and leaving in shadows most of the upper store. We pulled back and flattened ourselves next to the wall.
“This is the address you gave us, though it must be a mistake. This place is a dump.”
“This is the right place”, replied a melodious voice. One of the people downstairs approached the wall on the far side with smooth, elegant moves.
It was the female Scourge.
For the moment I froze in terror, then I remembered Elizabeth mentioning that their foot soldiers didn’t have any psychic powers, that mind manipulation was a talent of the upper classes, the higher up the Scourge, the stronger his terrible ‘gift’.
This woman was a verlan bodyguard, so we should be safe from her as long we remained unnoticed. She was accompanied by two Spirit adepts in uniforms. We’ve come across this kind of troops on Aldeea, and I was able to recognise the household guards’ attire adorned with a spiral design, likely Faun Sen’Diessa’s symbol.
The Scourge came next to the chest and made a happy sound between a sigh and a laugh. She opened a lid, and a lightened display came to life, framing her features in dancing patterns of shadows. The woman started to play with the controls while whistling an odd, unnerving tone.
“Oh, Flame, this can’t be good,” whispered Lazurien.
The Spirit Guard who spoke earlier came apparently to the same conclusion, for he approached hastily and peeked over the verlan’s shoulder.
“Mara, whatever you’re doing, stop it right now!”
The Scourge ignored him and continued to calmly play with the interface, likely updating some automatic programme.
In turn, the Haillar adept stepped forward and stretched his hand, presumably intending an eka push against his recalcitrant ward. However, she suddenly jumped aside and avoided the blast.
The verlan’s hand shot like a snake catching the Haillar in his throat, stopping whatever wielding the adept was doing. His fellow guard stood stunned next to the door.
The woman crouched, eyes level with the dazed Spirit trooper.
“You want to know what I’m doing, you spineless worm? You’ll find out soon enough, together with your precious Dominion queens.”
“Beware, your actions are in breach of the truce. You are defying your masters’ pledges.”
“Oh, the truce! The truce just got suspended…”
“Traitorous bitch! I’ve seen that Hagan sincerely favours these peace talks. By plotting against us, you act against your own lord’s wishes!”
“You presume to know Hagan Far-Seer, worm? Which one of his identities, the foppish shipmaster, or Xandor’s chief assassin and enforcer? Of course he wanted these peace talks to happen, he didn’t even have to pretend it. They were his own idea, an excellent opportunity to get rid of your entire Conclave once and for all. It would be the achievement of a lifetime. And I, his trusted First Blade, have the joy of being the one who deals the final blow.”
As if to emphasise this last statement, the Scourge produced out of nowhere a slim blade and in a move almost too fast to follow, drew it in reverse against the adept’s throat leaving a thin dark line in its wake. The Haillar stumbled and dropped without a sound.
I watched the entire scene unfolding in horror, my mind struggling to register what I was seeing. Next to me, Lazurien lost her concentration and reverted to her natural form.
Finally, the second Spirit Guard approached.
“It’s done!” said the Scourge. “It’s your turn now to power up the disruptor, and then you can go tell your mistress we’ve done our part and she shouldn’t forget hers. Also, remind her she would want to be out of this system in a quarter of a day, or she’ll become part of the Bellona star for all eternity, same as your wretched Conclave.”
The adept nodded and came closer, resting his hand on the interface. Suddenly the device came to life emitting a low vibration, some sort of subsonic hum. The Haillar took a few seconds to watch his work, then turned and took his leave without a word and without a glance back to the Scourge.
“She has a neutronic disruptor out there, linked into Merdun’s eka conduits”, whispered Lazurien shocked for the first time I’d known her. “There is only one use for such a device. They plan to collapse the sun. We need to inform the others, and we need to warn the queens immediately.”
Christine fumbled for the comm crystal, but the bloody thing failed to activate. Lazurien produced her own and tapped it madly, with similar results.
“The Chaos Queen should be contactable, but the Scourge must have some kind of a jamming device,” concluded the girl. “The only way to call for help is to get out of here or to get rid of the Scourge and destroy the jammer.”
Indeed, down below the traitorous bodyguard showed no sign she intended to leave. Calmly she kneeled next to the dead adept and cleaned her blade on his tunic, resuming her nerve-wracking tune.
“Let’s get out of here,” called Charles who was already near the end of the catwalk. His words were whispered, and I could barely get their meaning, yet down below the murdering verlan abruptly ceased her whistle, cocking her head in our direction.
“Too late,” mumbled Lazurien. “Time for option two.”
The adept flickered and disappeared, being replaced a moment later by the tall silhouette of a Scourge lord, his face serene, his attire richly decorated with exquisite embroideries in silver and gold.
“I see my trust in you is justified, First Blade,” said Lazurien in the lord assassin’s lazy voice. With almost contemptuous ease the adept jumped the handrail and dropped like a cat, landing elegantly in the warehouse below. Gods, I didn’t realise the Haillar could do this, as I’ve never seen any of them performing such acrobatic feats. To think she had the looks of a twelve-year-old schoolgirl.
Right now, she was no schoolgirl but a proud Scourge warlord coming to gloat over the fulfilment of his murderous plots. As opposed to his servant, the fake Hagan displayed no outward emotion, no sign of bloodlust and madness. He barely smiled, the benevolent smile of a teacher encouraging his prize student after a satisfactory display of skill. I wondered if Lazurien got her expression right, if she knew enough about this particular Scourge to stay in character even for a few seconds.
She probably did, for Mara the Murderous Bitch lowered her head in submission like a bloodhound petted by her master. The adept came forward with fluid movements, emulating perfectly the light, effortless way the Scourge moved.
“M
y trusted follower,” whispered the girl.
For some reason, this innocuous remark was a mistake. Maybe it was that the term ‘follower’ was not the appropriate way to address to a Blade, maybe the term ‘trust’ did not exist in the Scourge lexicon. Maybe ‘trust’ had a negative connotation in the Scourge culture. I’d never know.
Mara darted aside and the invisible eka blow destined for her heart slid harmlessly along her left arm, leaving a shallow cut from her wrist to her shoulder. The Scourge pivoted and crouched at the same time, drawing a long slick dagger with her right hand. The movement brought her level with Lazurien, and the blade plunged in the adept’s torso and exited her back. The illusionist stood still for a moment, then the image of the Scourge lord dissipated being replaced by that of a young girl transfixed by the wicked blade. Lazurien produced a strange sound like a cough and vomited a mouthful of blood, her gaze frozen in an expression of horror.
“No!” cried Christine.
The Scourge assassin turned her head sharply, then smiled a broad, happy smile.
“Oh, talking sievrin insects! How interesting! How unique!”
Flexing her ankles, the Scourge reversed Lazurien’s acrobatic jump effortlessly and landed on the ramp without even touching the railway, not ten feet away from Christine.
I run forward in a futile display of chivalry, knowing for sure that Christine was doomed, that we were all doomed in a matter of seconds. I was not even midway across the catwalk when the Scourge soared close to my friend and with a flourished move slashed her murderous blade across the human’s throat.
Or so it seemed. Somehow, impossibly the Scourged missed and the blade slid harmlessly sideways without touching Christine. The French woman had the inspiration to drop down to the floor, an awkward target for the Scourge’s reverse strike.
The momentum carried the assassin forward, past Christine and barrelling in my direction. I was next in line, and I couldn’t count on Christine’s luck to strike twice in a row. I crouched low, but the monster anticipated my move and matched it with one of her own. There was no space to dodge left or right, and at that moment I thought that I was finished, that no one and nothing could save me again, not even an impossible Haillar queen. I had a split second to recall her last image, beautiful and sober while marching into the Spirit palace while I stayed behind holding the Chaos token in my outstretched hand.
The token!
I had no time to stop and fumble for it in my suit’s external pocket, for sure no time to jump back and put ten feet between the Scourge and myself before throwing the disk. I teared the pocket loose, almost spilling its contents, managed to grab the disk through the fabric and squeeze, activating the release. ‘Three heartbeats’, Elizabeth had said.
I couldn’t completely dodge the Scourge, but I could take her blow on my arm, a burning pain that almost made me drop the disk. Almost, but not quite. I barely had time to register that my arm was nearly cut halfway through and the assassin was raising the blade for the kill when the token activated.
Whatever pain I thought I felt when the dagger almost cut my arm off was nothing, compared to the agony of my fist disintegrating in a cloud of chaos, of the molecules of my arm dissociating in subatomic particles.
‘Contained Chaos’, my queen had said. Contained in a sphere the size of a soccer ball centred on my non-existing fist. I had no hold on it, no way to direct the ball of chaos towards my enemy, in the fraction of second before the field would dissipate.
I didn’t have to. The same momentum that brought the bitch next to me in no time, carried her forward one more step, through the cloud of particle that used to be my arm. The ball of nothingness hit her mid-torso, and as she passed me, I could swear that for a fraction of a second I could see the other side of the railway, all the way through her.
The Scourge was effectively cut in half, the upper part falling one side, the lower taking one more step and careening over the handrail. I stood in shock, staring at the ruin that used to be my hand. Funny enough, after the first moment of agony, I couldn’t feel a thing, as if my nerve endings have somehow sealed themselves and cut the pain away.
“One of you should be looking for that jamming device”, I said, and suddenly the entire room rotated around me. I hit the floor hard with my temple and only had a fraction of second to register yet another blinding burst of pain before I blacked out.
CHAPTER 26 (ELIZABETH)
Peter is in pain. No, Peter is in agony!
I’ve no idea how I’m able to feel his torment, yet somehow I do. I’ve no idea what kind of bond I forged with Liz and through her with Peter, but I now could sense things in a way I’ve never been able to do in any of my previous incarnations.
None of these matters. Peter is in pain, and I’m nowhere close to help him.
I have to fight with a wave of panic, another strange feeling. I don’t panic. I never did, not even when the decks of my carrier ‘Light of Bellona’ were falling apart around me. Panic makes me weak, and I hate being weak.
I shoot out of the closet Almerean calls his old office and run towards the archive’s entrance.
“What’s up?” shouts my host.
“Something’s wrong. Randig’s house is under attack.”
“Are you out of your mind, woman? Who could lay siege on Randig Sen’Aisir’s store in the middle of the Spirit Quarters, one of the safest areas in the entire Dominion? No, the only risk we face is being kicked out of this moon in shame for the crime of spying on our rightful queen.”
Faun is not my rightful queen, but I don’t have time to correct his misconception. I activate the gate and step through the portal.
On the other side, everything is surprisingly quiet. No sounds of battle, no shouts, no eka blows. Not even Lazurien’s chatter.
None of them is here. I was away for less than a day, and they felt the need to disobey my direct order and rush in the path of danger, Flame knows where.
I take a deep breath. Maybe I’m unreasonable, for I have no rights to issue an order to any of Verdid’s spies. They have a job to do for their mistress and can’t leave everything aside to act as chaperones for my friends. But this doesn’t excuse them dragging the humans in the thick of their fight. None of them is a warrior. Flame forgive me, but not even their guards were much of a threat for the Scourge.
Think, Elizabeth Ashar! Don’t panic, think!
I draw the communication crystal and project my mind, looking for its pair. There, in the middle of the trade quarters. What possessed them to leave Randig’s lair and travel halfway around the Spirit Quarters, all the way to the shopping streets?
The crystal chimes, cutting my musings short. I activate it, and I’m slightly relieved to hear Christine’s voice.
“My Queen!”
“Christine, where are you? What’s happening to Peter?”
“Peter is hurt but stable. Charles is taking care of him, but we have a much bigger problem.”
As she speaks, I can feel the problem, and ‘bigger’ is an understatement. Call it massive, call it monumental. Somewhere close to Christine, close to her comm crystal, a device was sending out a concentrated beam of eka charged protons. I know the use for such a beam, for I have employed it myself in the past. Someone was trying to collapse a star, and it didn’t take a considerable effort of imagination to guess who that someone might be.
Apparently, the humans stumbled over the Scourge’s final plot, and their end game was even worse than I could possibly imagine. They planned to make Bellona into a nova and thus get rid of the entire star system. Destroy Tao Bellona and eliminate the queens for good. Not even we can survive the collapse of a star.
At least I think we can’t. None of us was mad enough to ever try.
✽✽✽
I step through the portal in a dimly lit warehouse, a scene of madness.
Bodies are littered on the floor. I can see the black uniform of a household guard, and next to him the remains of a Scourge, the female bo
dyguard. Further away, a tiny body, her face frozen, eyes wide open. Oh no, Lazurien!
Peter is laying in a corner, Charles crouched above him. I want to be next to him. I want to help, yet I know there is no time, for an ominous hum reverberates from the niche in the wall. The disruptor.
Christine wants to tell me something, but I stop her with a wave of my hand. There is no time for words.
I close my eyes and follow the stream of particles, up through the ceiling, further up through the shield confining Merdun’s atmosphere. It’s a fragile beam, a seemingly inconsequential string of eka loaded particles moving inexorably with the speed of light. Moving through the void of space towards our sun.
I pull my consciousness back to my body and start with the easy thing, cutting the disruptor’s supply. I could see the Spirit conduit, clear proof if proof was needed that some of us were working with the enemy. Oh, the irony of using the very essence of our people’s power to destroy our oldest surviving world, to destroy the Dominion.
The conduit draws from Merdun’s eka pool, connected with the Origin at Ka Loren through quantum links, an almost inexhaustible source of energy. Disrupting the links is a tricky matter, and it would affect the Sen Haillar works in the entire system, but fortunately the Spirit tap is a sloppy job and one I can easily undo.
The beam shuts down, cut at the source. This still leaves a train of charged particles already moving through space, to reach Bellona in a fifth of a day and start a chain reaction that will end up with the collapse of our star, and the subsequent cosmic blast that would leave no coherent matter in its wake. Except for a small dark sphere, a black hole in space.
This was the Scourges’ plan all the time, to trap us in a nova event that would completely consume our eka reserves, with nothing left for the next rebirth. It shows an understanding of our nature I wasn’t aware the enemy possesses, likely coming from one of our own, a powerful adept gone rogue.
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