The Apprentice In The Master’s Shadow

by Ian Gregoire

  Fay turned her gaze from Tarnat to the door in front of her, then tilted her head downwards, holding her right hand beneath her nose. Slowly, drops of blood began to trickle from her nose in response to her surreptitious invocation of Yuksaydan. As she murmured under her breath, the droplets began to coalesce and take shape, solidifying in the palm of her hand. With the fall of the last drop of blood, she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her left arm, then closed her fingers around the newly formed blood amulet. She pocketed the small object before peering back over her shoulder at the uncooperative captive within her barrier sphere.

  Suddenly, Fay disappeared in a burst of black wispy vapour, reappearing instantly inside the confines of the barrier sphere—wispy vapour instantaneously coalescing into physical form seated upon the chair vacated by the prisoner.

  “I didn’t quite catch that,” she said nonchalantly, startling Tarnat. He spun around sharply to see her casually cross her legs and steeple her fingers. “Sound cannot penetrate this barrier sphere. I wouldn’t want any of my colleagues to overhear the rest of our little discussion.”

  The simultaneously panicked and confused look on Tarnat’s face as he took an involuntary step backwards against the barrier sphere, was just the reaction Fay was hoping for. Now all she had to do was exploit the kindled fear to get the answers she needed.

  “Who are you?” said Tarnat breathlessly.

  A smile slowly tugged the corner of Fay’s lips. “I don’t even need to peek inside your head to know what you are thinking right now.” He was no doubt disturbed by her ability to enter the barrier sphere given that once invoked it should be impenetrable. But he was surely even more concerned by the demonstration of Zarantar Najist by a member of the Order. The manner in which the more powerful Saharbashi could disappear then reappear, in the blink of an eye, was visually very distinct from the equivalent manner in which an elite Sanatsai could accomplish the same feat. She had just exposed herself to the prisoner.

  Noticing Tarnat’s attempt to recompose and reassert himself, Fay invoked Yuksaydan as he took a step towards her. Instantly he was seized by an invisible grip that held him completely immobile on the spot. “Not only are you confused as to how I was able to breach my barrier sphere, you are also wondering how is it possible that a woman has mastery of Zarantar Najist—in light of the commonly held belief that it is the sole preserve of male practitioners.” She slowly rose up from her seat. “You must also be worried that having exposed a secret for which every member of the Order would be obliged to kill me if they learned of it, I cannot now allow you to live.”

  There was a subtle change in Tarnat’s facial expression. Perhaps he wasn’t quite so eager to die after all.

  “I undertook this mission prepared to sacrifice my life, if needs be,” he declared defiantly, still wriggling futilely against the invisible grip holding him in place. “Your threats are wasted on me, so either release me or kill me. I’m not going to tell you what you want to know.”

  Despite her reluctance, Fay accepted she was now going to have to test the prisoner’s willingness to die. She ambled forward, fixing her penetrating gaze upon him. A subtle smile tugged the corners of her mouth as she calmly placed her hands behind her back beneath her black hooded cloak. “Allow me to tell you a little something about myself that you would never guess from looking at me.” The half-smile disappeared from her face, and she paused momentarily before continuing in a deliberate, matter-of-fact tone. “I have killed more people than you can imagine. Not all of them were fortunate enough to have been granted a swift, painless death. Some of my victims endured the kind of prolonged suffering you would not wish upon your worst enemy.” She invoked Yuksaydan again, causing invisible ‘fingers’ to move beneath Tarnat’s clothing, caressing the bare skin of his chest, making him gasp. “You might very well be willing to die, but you do not want to experience the painful, lingering death that I can inflict upon you.” To drive home her point she employed her invocation of Yuksaydan to reach inside his chest to squeeze his heart.

  Immediately, the prisoner grimaced and strangled a scream as his body began to spasm. Fay ceased her invocation, ending both the attack and her invisible hold on Tarnat. She looked on impassively as he fell on his behind, grabbing his chest while scrambling backwards to get away from her. Once his back hit the translucent barrier preventing him from putting any further distance between himself and his tormentor, he looked up at Fay, unable to keep the panic from his grimacing face.

  “What are you?” he gasped, rubbing his chest.

  Fay squatted down on her haunches, and keeping her voice neutral she replied, “I am the woman who holds your life in her hands.” She felt sick to her stomach. Resorting to what effectively amounted to torture, despite the brevity, brought back memories of a time in her past when she had done such things with impunity and felt no guilt. Though she reasoned that the here and now was different, that trying to prevent further loss of life provided her with a small measure of justification, she still felt guilty. She just hoped Tarnat wouldn’t force her to prolong the transgression. If push came to shove she would not be able to go through with it. “And I am in no mood to let you off the hook by granting you a swift death. I will keep you alive for as long as it takes for you to give me the answers I want.”

  Her prisoner stopped clawing at his chest, the uncertainty falling away from his countenance as he appeared to recover some of his composure.

  “I can do much worse things to you,” she said calmly, hoping to pre-empt a return of his defiance. She rose up from her haunches as Tarnat slowly clambered back on to his feet.

  “Do your worst,” he drawled.

  It was the last thing Fay wanted to hear. Whether he knew it or not, Tarnat had just called her bluff; she had no intention of subjecting him to the kind of mistreatment necessary to maybe loosen his tongue. In all likelihood his loyalty to whomever he served would always be greater than any fear she could provoke within him. She stared fixedly at him, realising that she needed to change tack. If she couldn’t coerce his cooperation through fear, perhaps there was a way she could do so by exploiting his loyalty—use it against him.

  After an extended silence in which her prisoner appeared to grow in confidence, a big smile broke out across Fay’s face. “I’ve been going about this all wrong,” she declared cheerfully. “It doesn’t matter who sent you, or why. All that matters is making sure there isn’t a repeat of tonight’s events. And to ensure this, I’m going to send you back where you came from to kill the person responsible for your presence here.”

  Tarnat began to laugh, but it was a half-hearted response. The uncertainty on his face betrayed his anxiety about what she had just said. The matter-of-fact tone with which she spoke implied that her proposal was a foregone conclusion.

  “If you think you can get me to turn on my master by offering me some kind of bribe,” he said warily, “I assure you, I cannot be bought. So whatever it was you were thinking… I won’t be killing anyone for you.”

  Continuing to smile at her adversary, Fay replied, “You seem to be labouring under the notion that you will have a choice.” She dropped the false smile, invoking Yuksaydan again to hold him immobile while she closed the gap between them in three languid strides. “The truth is, you have left me no option but to take the choice out of your hands.” Standing before her captive, she raised her right index finger to gently tap his forehead while she said, “I’m going plant a compulsion in your mind that will make you do what I need you to do. When you are released, you will feel irresistibly compelled to return to your master and kill him on sight.”

  Tarnat looked alarmed as she lowered her hand to her side. Good! she thought. He seemed to realise she was speaking truthfully.

  “Your previous bluff was more credible,” he announced. “What you are claiming isn’t possible.” His words were unconvincing as he struggled futilely against the invisible vice-like grip holding him immobile. “Zarantar cannot rob people of their f
ree will.”

  “Allow me to tell you a story.” Fay stared unblinking into Tarnat’s eyes. “Once upon a time… a poor, unfortunate man made the mistake of angering me by refusing to give me what I wanted. My response? I compelled him to return home and slit the throat of his heavily pregnant wife, before cutting the baby out of her belly.”

  Seeing the disgust in the captive Sanatsai’s eyes, Fay found she could no longer hold his gaze. She calmly turned her back on him and walked a few paces away from him. “I’m sure you will agree that this was a despicable act on my part,” she continued without peering back, “especially as this man’s only crime was to refuse to lay with me because of the love and loyalty he had for his wife.” She turned around to address Tarnat directly. “You might be relieved to hear that I am no longer the same petty, young misfit I was all those years ago. However, as the administrator of Antaris campus I have a duty of care to the men and women who serve under me, as well as the apprentices in my charge. Tonight, you and your accomplices killed some of these people. If the only way to prevent a repeat occurrence is to compel you to kill the man who ordered the attack, that is what I will do, and I will feel little guilt in doing so. Your only option for staying my hand is to answer my questions.”

  Fay pursed her lips as she stared pointedly at her opposite number. It was obvious his mind was racing.

  “Even if I tell you what you want to know,” he said finally, “how do I know you won’t make good on your original threat anyway?”

  “The Order is not a law unto itself; we are bound by the laws of the Nine Kingdoms. You committed a crime here in the Kingdom of Mirtana, so once I have finished questioning you I will have you turned over to the custody of the Mirtanese authorities, and you will be tried for your crimes in a Mirtanese court.”

  There was uncertainty on the prisoner’s face and Fay couldn’t understand why. All he had to do was answer two simple questions. “Is there a reason for your reticence?”

  “You dismissed your colleague so we’d be alone. You confined us within a barrier sphere that doesn’t permit sound to pass through, so we cannot be overheard. You have revealed to me things you do not wish anyone to know.” He paused momentarily, staring pointedly at her. “I do not see how this progression can end in any other way than with my death… even if I tell you what you want to know.”

  Holding Tarnat’s gaze, Fay couldn’t deny that his witnessing of her mastery of Zarantar Najist was very problematic. But she had no intention of killing him to ensure his silence. “As you no longer pose a threat to anyone, I will not harm you—even to protect my secret.” There was an alternate method she could employ to guarantee he didn’t expose her. “I would only kill you to save a life.”

  Much to her frustration, the prisoner continued to watch her silently, looking dubious at best. She sighed, letting her annoyance be known. “Aside from the fact no one would believe you if you attempted to expose me,” she said, “I am a woman of my word. I have already told you, once this is over you will be transferred to the relevant authorities. Just answer my questions then we can come to a mutually agreeable arrangement for ensuring your silence. You have my word.”

  The captive briefly appeared to consider her words before finally agreeing. “I will accept you at your word. Ask your questions.”

  Finally! Now for the first question. “Who is this ‘master’ you serve?”

  “I do not know his real name, no one does. We call him Master Yosarian.”

  Fay’s heart skipped a beat; she recognised the name. The Order had been monitoring a cult in southern Anzarmenia for almost three years. Concerns about the group prompted an attempt to infiltrate the cult two years ago to identify its mysterious leader and uncover its objectives. That mission ended in failure, resulting in the brutal slaying of her former brother-in-law, Marit Katarnian. No further action was taken against the group, but the Order had been maintaining a discreet surveillance of the cult ever since. It was only a matter of weeks ago that the covert monitoring had finally yielded a name for the powerful Saharbashi who led the cult… a man simply known as Master Yosarian.

  If the Anzarmenian cult was responsible for the raid on campus that night, as now appeared to be the case, such a development would likely be a significant complication for the Order. It almost certainly had to mean the cult was aware of the upcoming, clandestine mission to wipe out the group. A mission that was only weeks away from being launched. But if it had been discovered, why resort to a sneak attack on Antaris campus to kill a single apprentice? It didn’t make any sense.

  “Why does your master want Kayden Jayta dead?”

  The prisoner frowned at her, looking confused. She could tell from his furrowed brow and the look in his eyes that he wasn’t feigning ignorance; he had no idea who she was referring to. “Kayden is the apprentice you and your accomplices came here to kill.” Still he looked nonplussed.

  “An apprentice? You must be mistaken.”

  “Do you seriously expect me to believe you carried out a raid on a campus run by the Order while not knowing whom you were sent to kill?”

  Again the prisoner looked uncertain before replying. “All I know is, six weeks ago Master Yosarian began to be plagued by a dream that has disturbed him greatly: a black-clad figure in the Kingdom of Mirtana, readying to journey south, not only to bring ruination to everything he has been working towards, but also to bring about his demise.” He glared pointedly at her. “I know what you’re thinking! Why would anyone be bothered enough by a bad dream to take such drastic action to prevent it from coming true? Well, believe me when I say Master Yosarian has an uncanny ability to foresee things before they occur; if he sees a threat emanating from this place, not only is it real, whomever it is must be incredibly powerful and dangerous. Which is why your contention that the intended target is an apprentice doesn’t hold water. I’ve seen and experienced what you are capable of, yet you were not the target. Am I really supposed to believe that this… Kayden Jayta is more powerful than you?”

  Fay wasn’t sure what to make of the story she’d just been told. As ridiculous as it sounded, it had the ring of truth to it. “So, your master was having trouble sleeping and you offered to travel several hundred miles to help him sleep better?”

  Tarnat visibly bristled at her sarcasm.

  “Master Yosarian created a reaper stone targeting the subject of his dream. He tasked me with personally delivering it to wherever it led me… to be sure the threat to him is eliminated. He said it wasn’t sufficient to release the stone from a distance; a threat as powerful as the person he saw in his dream would never permit the reaper stone to get within range.” The prisoner shrugged. “I’m not sure if he realised this threat was present among the Order.” With obvious bitterness in his voice, he added, “If I had known, I would have put together a much larger group to get the job done.”

  Fay stared impassively at her gruff adversary, ruminating on what he had just revealed to her. It appeared as though the night’s terrible events had nothing to do with disrupting the planned mission by the Order against the cult in Anzarmenia. If he had spoken truthfully, and she had no reason to believe he hadn’t, the raid and its timing was purely coincidental. The whole situation was about killing Kayden, nothing more, nothing less. And if this Saharbashi, Master Yosarian, felt threatened to the extent of sending twenty men hundreds of miles to kill the person he foresaw as representing a threat to his life, it was doubtful he would stop sending people until the task was done.

  “How will your master react to your failure?” she demanded to know.

  Staring pointedly at her, Tarnat slowly flashed her a wry smile. “Master Yosarian dislikes unfinished business. He’ll send more people to get the job done. Whoever this apprentice you’re hoping to protect is… good luck!”

  Biting her lower lip, Fay mulled over his words. It was possible the prisoner was engaging in a last defiant bout of bravado, as unlikely as that seemed. “Don’t concern yourself with my luck
,” she retorted flippantly. “Neither you, or any of your fellow misguided disciples will get a second opportunity to complete your mission. It was a terrible mistake gaining the attention of the Order, and the price you will pay is closer than you think.” The covert mission to eliminate the cult in Anzarmenia was only a matter of weeks away from being initiated. Until then, Fay would personally ensure Kayden came to no harm. “Now, let us discuss what to do about the things you know about me that you shouldn’t.”

  Tarnat blanched at her words—presumably he believed she would renege on her promise not to kill him.

  “You said you would turn me over to the Mirtanese authorities.”

  “And I will,” she affirmed. “But before that can happen I propose having your memory of this interrogation purged from your mind.” She noted the suspicion in his eyes as his brow furrowed. “As I cannot, in good conscience, do this by force I will ask you to willingly consent to it.”

  Narrowing his eyes at her, the prisoner asked, “What happens if I don’t consent?”

  She ignored the question. “If you require some time to think about it, let me know now; I can come back later. There are other matters I must attend to in the meantime.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he sighed, with obvious reluctance. “Just do what needs to be done.”

  The interior of the administration building would normally be dark at such a late hour, but as Fay strolled through the corridor on the top floor, making her way back to her office, the corridor was lambent. The rarely used wall-mounted lanterns illuminated her path with a warm flickering glow. She had noted how the floors below were likewise alight before making her way upstairs, and the sounds of activity still coming from below indicated several of her staff, who would normally be in bed sleeping, were still beavering away to bring back a sense of normality to the campus before morning.