The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  “What am I supposed to do with these?”

  “They’re called comms. Put them in your ear.” Anita pointed to her ear. “Then we’ll be able to communicate with you!”

  Vixen sighed but did as Anita said. She still didn’t understand why they had come to her. “Why me? I’d rather be with the Hunters killing people.”

  Although all the other Guardians shared an alarmed look, Haiken ignored her statement completely and gave her a small smile. “You had the chance to kill me once, but you didn’t. I trust you. Now, if you agree to do this, I will tell you the plan.”

  She was an assassin, and by every right she could be one of the Hunters sent to kill Guardians, but Haiken trusted her. Part of Vixen wanted to teach him a lesson about blindly trusting someone, but he did have a valid point. He wanted to bring an end to the Guardian Program, and Honroth had ordered Vixen to bring down Jechorm, so what better way than with the Guardians?

  She nodded. “Very well. What’s the plan?”

  Listening closely, Vixen watched as the Guardians pulled up holographic images of the buildings, different levels, and the corridors. They pointed out different doors, highlighted different positions of guards and Guardians, and went through the plan with her, giving her several other devices she would need.

  9

  First line of business—find the main server room.

  Vixen walked through the corridors of the Guardian center skyscraper with confidence. “They’ll suspect something if you appear cautious,” Haiken told her, and she gave him a look. She had been an assassin and a thief all her life; she knew how to penetrate the enemy’s defenses.

  She had already passed several Guardians, but she didn’t acknowledge them. She ignored the guards as well, didn’t pause to ask for directions, but walked as if she knew exactly where she was going. It took a while for her to get used to their voices in her head from the comm, but it reminded her a bit of those times when Loroth or Lorrek would communicate to her through magic.

  “Keep going straight,” Haiken’s voice sounded in her ear. “Stop at the second door on the right.”

  “You can expect three guards inside,” Anita added.

  As Vixen neared the door, she saw the security system and the glaring red light, indicating it was locked. “Zoyra?”

  “Got it.”

  The light turned green, and Vixen smiled. She could get used to this.

  The door slid open, and she lifted her hands ready to strike out at the guards, only for her eyes to fall on the unconscious guards slumped in their chairs and on the floor. Vixen brought a hand to her ear. “The guards are already knocked out. Did any of you do that?”

  “Knocked out?” Vixen heard the alarm in Haiken’s voice, and she could almost imagine him sharing a startled glance with the other Guardians on his team. “No—no, that wasn’t us.”

  “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Vixen narrowed her eyes then unsheathed several blades as she began to look around the room.

  “It was me.”

  Vixen spun around but stopped short of throwing a knife when she recognized a woman with wavy red hair, who was standing in the doorway with one hand on the frame and the other hand on her hip. She wore a fitting but short dress and stiletto heels. Vixen frowned. “Ceras?”

  Her fellow assassin smiled. “Thank you for not mistaking me for Kyra. She’s not even human, and her hair is more...red than mine, and has less volume. She doesn’t know how to use a curling iron.” Rolling her eyes, she dragged herself into the room and let the door shut behind her. She smirked at Vixen. “I’m glad you remember me. It would have been a shame if you had forgotten, considering all the fun we had together. Do you remember the time we had to sneak into the Foden estate? Ohhh, we almost got skinned alive, and I cracked a nail.” Ceras looked at her fingernails admiringly.

  If it was anyone else, Vixen would think them insane for paying such close attention to her fingernails, but Ceras was altogether different—and not a threat to her. Sheathing her blades, Vixen greeted her with a nod. “Poison still your weapon?”

  “Fingernails laced with it.” Ceras clawed at the air. “A single scratch will introduce poison to a person’s bloodstream, and they’ll be dead in a matter of moments.”

  “Are you immune to poison, finally?”

  “After years of feeding it to myself in small portions, I’m proud to say, yes, I am.” She reached up and touched the silver pearl necklace around her neck. “It makes handling these simpler. All I have to do is pop off a bead and pinch it until it bursts, and then voila,” she motioned to the room in a dramatic fashion. “They’re dead...or knocked out, whichever one I choose, and I don’t have to worry about the effects myself.”

  Vixen lifted a hand and gave her a warning look. “Whatever you do, don’t poison the room without notifying me first.”

  Ceras smirked at her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She sat down in a chair cross-legged in front of the control panel and swirled it around to face her old friend. “Now, what exactly are you doing here? All this technology...” She gestured to the computers. “It’s not exactly your style.”

  “I’m helping some friends.”

  “Vixen?” Haiken’s voice sounded in her ear, and she realized they still had no idea what had transpired in the security room.

  Vixen lifted a hand to her ear to speak into the comm. “It’s an old friend.” She locked eyes with Ceras but spoke to Haiken. “I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to assist us.”

  Ceras uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Ohhh, what is it?”

  Considering her options, Vixen frowned then addressed Haiken, “Give us a moment.” Then she deactivated the earpiece, crossed her arms over her bladed vest, and focused on Ceras. “What are you doing here—really?”

  “I saw you around and figured we should reconnect. It’s been a while.” However, by the look Vixen gave her, Ceras knew that hadn’t answered her question, so she sighed. Ceras sank back into the chair causing it to rock back slightly. “I’ve been here for the last twelve years.”

  “I didn’t see you ten years ago.”

  Ceras lifted her elegant brows. “You were here?”

  Deciding an entire explanation was not worth the time, Vixen nodded but motioned for her to continue. “You were saying?”

  “Ah yes, actually I first came here eighteen years ago. I was pregnant with a child I didn’t want, and I heard the Jechorians had ways of remedying the condition. They called it an abortion. At first it didn’t bother me—the baby was dead, and I could continue my work as an assassin, but then my House assigned me here to take part in the yearly Crucibles after the Guardian Games. I killed a few Guardians before I finally saw the face of one. That’s when I realized they were human—not simply humanoid, so I began investigating. During my digging, I found all the ‘aborted’ children were in actuality saved and raised by the Jechorians into Guardians. That meant my daughter was somewhere in the system, and after several years I finally found her.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “She looks like me—has red hair, pale features.” Then the smile fell into a frown. “She was only a child, but they were already training her into a fighter. So, after calling on a few favors, I snuck her out of the city and put her into the custody of a good friend of mine—Mel’Nath.”

  “The thief?” Vixen widened her eyes, but Ceras gave her a glare.

  “He’s a good friend, and he’s helped me out on more than one occasion. But anyway, I came back here to try and find a way to free the other Guardians before they end up in the death pit too.”

  Surprised by this unexpected turn of events and possible addition to the team, Vixen narrowed her eyes. “And why should I trust you?”

  Ceras turned back to her friend and gave her a look that made Vixen feel ridiculous. “Because...” She rose to her feet and smiled sweetly. “I haven’t killed you yet.” With that, she headed for the door, and when it slid open for her, she came to stand on the threshold then glance
d back at Vixen. “Oh, and a word of warning—Drathan is here as well, but he is actually hunting the humanized Guardians.”

  “Drathan? From the Ackden House?” But Ceras was already gone.

  Vixen sighed and turned back to the computer monitors. She had no idea what she was seeing, but she reached up and reactivated the comm. “Well, we have some good news and some bad news. Some old friends of mine are here. One of them might work with us, and the other...” She frowned then shook her head. “I’d rather not kill if possible.”

  “And why not?” Priam’s voice sounded in her head, and she sighed, exasperated.

  “Because he is the brother to a thief who is a friend of mine. I’d rather not have to explain, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Kilroth. I didn’t mean to kill your brother, but he was simply in my way.’ That probably wouldn’t surprise him, but I doubt that would go over well.” As she spoke, Vixen plugged in the different devices Anita had given her and watched as glowing text with random numbers and letters scrolled up the screens. She had no idea what the computers were doing because she didn’t understand the technology, but she trusted they were doing the job Anita had said they would, hacking, she called it.

  Finally, the scrolling texts stopped, and the screen returned to its normal interface—a list of files, images, and data.

  “All right. We hijacked the system,” Zoyra told her. “We sent Anita down to retrieve you undetected. Just unplug the drive and wait for her.”

  Vixen nodded as she scanned the names of the files with her eyes while reaching for the drive that was no bigger than her thumbnail. One file caught her eye—Radella. Beneath it, she saw a file named Rakessat. Narrowing her eyes, Vixen frowned. “Can we copy these files?” She motioned to the screen.

  “One moment. I need to pull it up to see what you’re talking about.” Zoyra went silent for a moment but then confirmed, “Yes, if you just select the file and drop it into the drive, we’ll get all the information, but it will also delete the data from the computer.”

  “I don’t care.” Vixen shook her head then looked around at the different devices in front of the computer. “How do I select it?”

  “Here.” Anita materialized out of the air, causing Vixen to jump slightly. Anita reached for the touchpad on the computer. “Which files?” Once Vixen directed her to them, she selected them and dropped them into the drive and then erased all traces of their tampering. Pulling the drive from the computer, Anita smiled at Vixen. “Let’s go.” She grabbed the assassin’s hand, and both of them went invisible.

  Stepping out of the security room, they glanced right and left down the corridor and then went to the right.

  From the left, Theran came around the corner in step with a man with slicked back dark brown hair and pale features. He wore a black tunic and walked with a confident step. Theran’s gaze took in the still-unfamiliar surroundings as he did his best to keep up with Drathan. He still felt uneasy about all of this, but he kept in mind why he was here—to find Fawn.

  After receiving his assignment from Lady Asalda, Theran followed Kyra to an observation room overlooking the training grounds of the Guardians. Standing before the window with his hands tucked behind his back and staring down at the activity below was a man, who Kyra introduced as Drathan from the House of Ackden—his guide in Jechorm and the Guardian program throughout Theran’s duration in the city.

  Theran straightened when he heard mention of the House. He knew enough about the Five Houses to know that from the Ackden House came backhanded saber bearing assassins though a few of them also preferred concealed automatic pistols, courtesy of Jechorm. By the sword at Drathan’s side, Theran knew he was a more traditional assassin, but he also knew better than to doubt the various other ways Drathan could kill.

  Drathan didn’t seem pleased with his new assignment, but he gave no protest, merely turned on his heel and strode past Theran with the command, “Stay close.” Along the way, he informed the prince that he had been briefed on Theran’s task here in Jechorm—of both the investigation into the Guardians and seeking the girl named Fawn. “We’ll start in the library database.”

  And that was where they started—until Drathan detected a breach in security and came to investigate.

  Theran trailed Drathan into the security center only to find the assassin stopped in his tracks, staring down at the slumped forms of the security officers. Drathan knelt beside one man and checked his neck for a pulse. When he found one, he nodded and rose to his feet. “Ceras.”

  Theran furrowed his brows and shot Drathan a puzzled look. “Excuse me?”

  “A fellow assassin from the Perik House, who was part of the Crucibles several years back, but recently, she has refrained from the Games.” Drathan’s brown eyes gazed across the computer panels for anything out of place as he went on to explain to Theran, “Poison is her specialty.”

  Dropping to a knee, Theran checked and found a pulse on one of the guards then lifted his gaze up to Drathan. “But they’re still alive.”

  Drathan nodded as he stepped over a guard and typed in a security key to access the computer data. “She wasn’t trying to kill them. If she had been, none of this air...” he pointed his finger at the air around them, “would be breathable yet.” He brought his hand back to the keyboard, so that he could type more quickly using both hands.

  For a moment, Theran watched him work, but he didn’t understand what Drathan was doing on the computer—the ways of technology eluded him. With nothing better to do, Theran stepped around the other unconscious guard and looked at the files displayed on the computer. Narrowing his eyes, he found that the selected one read, “Radella,” and he frowned. “That was Fawn’s original name.” Curious, he tapped on the file on the screen, but nothing happened. Confused, Theran looked at Drathan. “This...device—it’s broken.”

  Drathan glanced his way, gave him a dull look, then slid the chair across the way to the computer Theran was trying to access. With a few simple clicks and keystrokes, he selected the file and pressed to open it. “There. It should...” He trailed off when a window in the computer popped up empty.

  “What? What is it?” Theran looked between the assassin and the computer but didn’t understand what was happening.

  “The file has been erased.” Drathan kept his eyes on the monitor as he dug deeper for more information on the last known access.

  “What?” Theran’s eyes widened then narrowed. “How?”

  “My only assumption...” Drathan clicked into another file, “is that Ceras had something to do with it.”

  Theran crossed his arms. “And why would she do that?”

  Pulling back from the computer, the assassin cast a glance at Theran. This man truly didn’t understand how technology worked and who had what access to difference resources. However, the situation was much more complex than that, but Drathan had no desire to explain such things to him. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the computer. “Perhaps she did it by accident—”

  “You assassins do nothing by accident.”

  “Or perhaps...” Drathan glared at Theran for interrupting him, “she is looking for the same information as you but doesn’t want you to find it, so she is covering her tracks.”

  “But why would she be investigating Radella?”

  Realizing there was nothing useful on the computer, Drathan rose to his feet then clamped a hand on Theran’s shoulder. “Fantastic question. Why don’t we ask her?” He steered his charge out of the security center and down the right corridor and then withdrew his hand to walk ahead of him.

  Uncertain where the assassin was leading him but knowing it would be someplace unsafe, Theran worked to get his feet under himself and to fall into a confident step with Drathan, as not to appear weak or inferior. Yet he could not help the feeling gnawing at the bottom of his stomach that this was a terrible idea. He tried to conjure up reason after reason to redirect Drathan’s path, but he sensed the assassin might stab him for simply being a nuisance. A
t times like this Theran wished he hadn’t given Vixen his handblade—or at the very least wished he had a worthy sword.

  However, his salvation came in the unusual form of Pelham, who smiled his greeting at the two men as they met in the hall. Pelham lifted a hand to signal for them to halt. He nodded at Theran. “So, you are the man from Cuskelom. Asalda was right—you do look like Therth, but I just saw him in the Senate building not too long ago, so you must be the real Prince Theran.” Pelham bowed his head to him but then straightened with a smirk. “A real prince. It is indeed an honor. Now, Drathan, if you don’t mind, I will take over your guide duties for Prince Theran for the day. I have much to discuss with the prince.” Pelham didn’t give either man a chance to protest as he placed a hand on Theran’s shoulder and turned him around.

  Drathan watched them leave. He noted how Theran kept looking back at him as if wanting to protest, but Drathan allowed a small smirk to tug at the corner of his lips. Then he turned and continued in the direction he was originally headed—the general meeting place of all assassins and bounty hunters involved in the Crucibles.

  10

  Drathan entered a lift and pushed the rarely-used ground level button then felt the elevator shift smoothly downward, past the hundreds of levels of the skyscraper. Most people never traveled to the surface of Jechorm. All they needed for a comfortable life was at the higher levels. If they wanted something that was not in one building, they could go to the local hangar, pop into a hover vehicle, and go anywhere in the city—never once setting foot on the soiled ground.

  He preferred it this way. Only the outsiders of Jechorm traveled by ground in the city, and the assassins and thieves had done a splendid job maintaining the reputation of ruthlessness for any who ventured to the lower levels. The thieves stripped them of their valuables and let them go, but the assassins stalked them and enjoyed toying with them until they raced away in utter terror, only to spread more rumors of the horror found down below.