by Alix Nichols
No bodies have ever resurfaced. Several suspects have been arrested, two of them found guilty and executed. But the kidnappings never stopped.
This reporter and the entire staff of the Iltaqa Gazette pledges to no longer stand by and “let the police do its work.” Clearly, these disappearances are not a priority for Chief Zorom Ultek, especially now that most of his men have been mobilized to search for Areg Sebi.
The Gazette will conduct its own investigation and report on its progress in these columns every week.
Achlins Ghaw, editor-in-chief of the Iltaqa Gazette.
Growling with fury, Lord Boggond scrunched the newspaper into a ball and tossed it away. For the tame Iltaqa Gazette to publish an angry piece like that, something must have gone very wrong somewhere. Exasperation with the inaction of the police permeated the article.
What would happen if—no, when—the Gazette uncovered the sordid truth?
Would the paper dare to reveal it? If they did, how would that affect Lord Boggond’s image and the results of the Endorsement Vote?
True, with Dreggo gone and Sebi convicted, he had no serious contenders. But if he failed to get the majority’s endorsement, he’d remain caretaker governor for another year, and then a new Endorsement Vote would be held.
Such was the system LOR had imposed on all its members. The League also monitored every Endorsement Vote in Xereill. Those in the Silver Path were under particular scrutiny.
Damn Ultek! Why did he have to be a pervert, a depraved man unable to keep his base instincts in check? Was it a commoner thing?
Lord Boggond never had a problem keeping his sexual desires in control. Seeing as he had no such desires—not after the poisoning in his teens. While it hadn’t killed him, it had suppressed his libido and had given rise to the nightmares and the voice in his head.
Of those three, the lack of libido bothered Lord Boggond the least. Considering the pointless, gratuitous violence that Ultek’s lustfulness drove him to commit, Lord Boggond was glad to be deprived of it.
His commlet lit up with a message from his personal secretary informing him that Ultek had arrived for their audience.
Boggond strode to the wall and picked up the crumpled Gazette. “Send him in.”
“Your little hobby,” he said as soon as Ultek stepped in. “It’s becoming a problem.”
The police chief frowned. “Why? I keep it very hush-hush.”
“Do you?” Lord Boggond smoothed the newspaper on his desk and pointed at Ghaw’s piece. “Is this what you call hush-hush?”
Ultek’s gaze stayed latched onto Lord Boggond’s. There was no doubt—he’d seen the article.
Had he been hoping that the rest of Eia would somehow miss it? That Eia’s governor would miss it?
Bile rose in Lord Boggond’s throat. “Answer me! Is this what you call hush-hush?”
“That was a… mishap, Your Grace.” Ultek’s tone was even. “I’ll fix it.”
“How? By eliminating Ghaw?”
“That’s one way of doing it.”
Lord Boggond shook his head. “You have to find another way of doing it. Ghaw’s murder, even covered up as an accident, would look too suspicious.”
Ultek shrugged, unconvinced.
“Need I remind you, Chief Ultek,” Lord Boggond hissed, “that we’ve already lost two very prominent Eians, Ambassador Sebi and Professor Dreggo, to tragic accidents within a year? Not to mention Governor Iorasu’s heart attack at the end of the war.”
Ultek smiled. “I’d say we can lose one more, Your Grace.”
The nerve!
“Find an ex-con. Pin it on him. Make it look convincing.” Lord Boggond sighed. “And no more kidnappings, is that clear?”
Ultek didn’t nod immediately.
Lord Boggond’s face contorted with rage. “No more, Ultek. That’s an order. Understand?”
The police chief’s cheeks and mouth twitched, but he still wouldn’t say yes.
Lord Boggond closed his eyes for a moment before adding in a more placating tone, “You’ll have to make do with the stock you have, at least until the Endorsement Vote. Ration them. Make them last. I don’t care.”
Finally, Ultek nodded.
“Let’s talk about more important things.” Lord Boggond sat down, waving for Ultek to do the same. “I was promised Areg Sebi’s head on a platter. I’m still waiting.”
Ultek shifted in his seat. “Not for much longer, Your Grace. He’s wounded. He can’t have gone far.”
“It’s been a week since he disappeared from Town Hall Square, reappeared in corn fields, and then disappeared again. You are looking for him, right?”
Ultek huffed a frustrated breath. “Of course, I am! It’s like Ghaw wrote—that’s my top priority.”
Lord Boggond tilted his head to the side. “Then why haven’t you found him yet?”
“The man is resourceful. He knows the terrain like the back of his hand with all the trench-digging, scouting, and fighting he’d done during the war.” Ultek leaned forward. “And he has help.”
“Who? Who’s helping him?”
“I suspect it’s a group of LOR Enforcers and rich-bloods gone rogue. Likely, friends and admirers of the late ambassador.”
“That’s what I thought too before the corn field shootout.” Lord Boggond stared out the window. “A rogue commando who’d snuck onto Hente to save Sebi would’ve taken him off the planet.”
“Maybe their transport needed repairs.”
Lord Boggond gave Ultek a who-do-you-take-me-for look.
“Commando or not,” Ultek said, “I’m sure Sebi’s getting help from the locals. I bet he’s tucked away in some farmer’s basement right now, warm and cozy, laughing at us.”
Lord Boggond said nothing.
“Did you see my report from his public flogging?” Ultek asked. “The crowd was unruly. Defiant even.”
“I read your report.” Lord Boggond turned to face Ultek. “Even if the population is helping Sebi, I still don’t understand how most of my police force and a good chunk of the army haven’t tracked him down yet.”
Ultek swallowed nervously. “The army—it isn’t much help.”
“What do you mean?”
“I hear from my men that the soldiers aren’t driven enough or trying hard enough.”
Lord Boggond narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t Commander Heidd pick the ones who’d never fought under Sebi?”
“He did. But you know how it is—even the ones who didn’t serve under him have brothers, friends, or friends of friends who did. It’s a small realm, Your Grace.”
“Hmm.”
“Besides…” Ultek hesitated.
“Speak.”
“I’m not sure Commander Heidd has put in place adequate sanctions for those who let Sebi slip through their fingers.”
Lord Boggond’s mouth thinned. “You believe…?”
“Yes, Your Grace, I believe he’s doing this half-assed, because—”
“He was Sebi’s commanding officer during the war,” Lord Boggond said, finishing Ultek’s sentence.
The police chief nodded. “Worse—he knew the family. There’s a reason he didn’t let me have Nyssa Sebi. I don’t trust him.”
Was Ultek onto something? Or was it paranoia? Or a calculated attempt to discredit Heidd because Ultek wanted his job?
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter.
“Whether you trust him or not,” he said. “Heidd will remain commander of the army for now. He has the troops’ loyalty. Officers and rank-and-file alike, they all respect him. He does his job well, and he’s careful not to overstep.”
Disappointment flashed in Ultek’s eyes, but he quickly schooled his features into a conciliatory expression. “Of course, Your Grace. It’s your call.”
“Concentrate on the hunt for Sebi.”
Ultek studied his hands for a moment, then looked up. “Your Grace, do I have your permission to conduct it the way I see fit?”
What exact
ly does that mean?
Ah, Lord Boggond preferred not to know. “Do you guarantee you’ll catch him?”
“I do.”
Lord Boggond nodded once and waved Ultek out.
Was it likely that Ultek’s new approach would lead to Sebi’s capture? Lord Boggond had his doubts. Ultek was a good manipulator, an ingenious schemer, and a great henchman. But he was a lousy cop.
Lord Boggond wondered if he should accept Sir Horbell’s standing invitation to visit his modified cyborg facility and borrow what he liked. It was tempting. And Lord Boggond was curious, to say the least. But he didn’t know Tastassi’s recently endorsed governor well, having crossed paths with him only a couple of times at LORSS. The man was somber, determined, and enterprising.
Very enterprising, if what they said about him was true. Horbell had been born a dirt-poor street kid and spent his youth as a junkie bum before he sobered up and turned his life around.
Then again, accepting Horbell’s offer would mean owing him, and for a long time, given that the state coffers were empty. It also meant depending on Horbell. Common sense told him to be wary.
But the voice he heard in his head every time he had one of his nightmarish dreams whispered otherwise. It told him he needed to up his game if he wanted to get endorsed as governor, rule over Eia, and fulfill his destiny.
It told him Horbell was the solution.
19
Etana was going to Mount Crog.
Tying the laces of her walking shoes, she sat down on her bed and glanced at her fancy watch. It was a quarter to eight. Everything had been taken care of.
Almost.
After finishing her day’s work, she’d warned Dame Gokk she was going away for a short while. Dame Gokk had said of course without asking why.
Next, Etana had given the housekeeper a heads-up so that a replacement laundry maid could be brought in.
“When will you be back?” the housekeeper had asked.
“Soon.” Etana gave her boss an apologetic look, well aware that “soon” wasn’t exactly a helpful answer.
The housekeeper raised an eyebrow. “Dame Gokk knows about this, right?”
Etana nodded and rushed to the room she shared with Padefa. All that remained was for her to change out of her uniform, tuck the watch under the mattress… and pray for the best.
Granted, it was a risky plan. But Etana didn’t know what else she could do with the tracker. She’d considered asking Geru to carry it around in his pocket, but that was risky. He’d ask questions. He’d get even more involved than he already was.
If Ultek questioned or tortured him, would he have the strength not to break?
Geru was young. Gently raised. Kindhearted. Dragging him into her mess more than she already had was wrong.
The door opened just as Etana was unfastening her watch.
“May I try it on?” Padefa pointed at it, sitting down next to her roommate.
“Of course.” Etana clasped the watch around the other maid’s wrist.
“So beautiful.” Padefa gazed at it lovingly. “We’re forbidden from asking you about it…”
Etana smiled. “But you’re dying to know.”
“I am.”
“Chief Ultek gave it to me as an extra encouragement to cooperate,” Etana said.
It struck her that, in a twisted kind of way, her words were true. If she hadn’t suspected there’d been more to it and gotten Lippin’s confirmation, that was exactly what she would’ve believed about Ultek’s gift. Because that was how he had explained it for her.
Padefa pouted. “How unfair! You tried to help a convicted traitor. But instead of getting punished, you cut a deal, and the police reward you with something as precious as this.”
An idea hit Etana.
She gave Padefa a nonchalant shrug. “You can keep it, if you like.”
It was a risky game, but it would buy her more time than leaving the watch under her mattress. Several days, maybe a week. Padefa spent most of her time in the Gokk house. When she wasn’t here, she’d be at her Ma’s who lived in the same edge of Iltaqa as Etana’s parents. Come to think of it, she couldn’t have found a better hiding place for her watch.
Padefa squinted at her. “What about Chief Ultek?”
“I’ll cooperate with the police because I want to live,” Etana said. “Watch or no watch. That’s all Chief Ultek cares about.”
Padefa pondered Etana’s argument, her fingers caressing the bejeweled dial of the watch, lingering on every gemstone.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
A legitimate question. To which Etana had no answer. Until she remembered what drove Padefa.
And, just like in Ultek’s office, the right words came. “You’re Dame Gokk’s maid. She listens to you. If I get in trouble again, I’ll expect you to put in a word with her.”
Padefa’s face brightened. “I will, but only once, and—obviously—I can’t promise she’ll listen.”
“Fair enough.” Etana stood and picked up her cape. “I’m off to my parents’.”
“Again? See you tomorrow, then.” Padefa nodded absent-mindedly, absorbed by the watch.
“See you tomorrow,” Etana said, opening the door.
When she pushed the garden gate, Prioress Eckme and her steward were already there, talking to Rhori and glancing at Mount Crog.
“What are you doing here?” Rhori asked Etana while she bowed to the vestal.
Prioress Eckme bowed back. “Hello, Etana. I was sure you’d show up.”
“I’m coming with you,” Etana said.
The prioress nodded, as if there’d never been any question about it and pointed to her steward. “You haven’t met Leehash.”
The burly man in his late forties or early fifties brow-and-bowed. Etana did the same.
“Did you leave the watch at the Gokk House?” Rhori asked.
She nodded. “But not like you think. I gave it to another maid, and I’m sure she’ll wear it a lot.”
Rhori shook his head in disapproval.
Etana shrugged.
“What do we do, Your Royal Grace?” Leehash turned to the vestal. “Leave now or wait until it’s darker?”
Prioress Eckme smiled, chewing on her lip. “Summer days are much too long, aren’t they?”
“We can wait,” Rhori said. “I went up the goat trail last night and located the clearing. It won’t take us more than an hour and a half to get there even if we’re slow.”
Prioress Eckme nodded.
“Ma and Pa?” Etana turned to Rhori. “Mayka?”
“Ma’s working late—some big party at the Usadory House. Pa and Mayka went to bed early. At my request.”
Etana itched to pop into the house so she could sneak a look at their dear faces and whisper a goodbye. But she forced herself to stay where she was. If she inadvertently woke them up, they’d be surprised to see her. They’d ask questions. They’d worry…
Better this way, she told herself.
Prioress Eckme opened a big backpack on the bench and took out a small device.
“For you.” She offered it up to Rhori. “It’s a commlet.”
Rhori studied the object.
“You’ll be able to talk to Areg and send written messages from anywhere on Hente and in Xereill. You’ll also be able to communicate with anyone else who has a commlet as long as you know their contact number.”
“Amazing,” Rhori muttered.
She showed him how to operate it.
“I’ve procured one for Areg and another one for myself,” Prioress Eckme said, before giving Etana and Leehash an apologetic glance. “Unfortunately, my funds didn’t stretch for two more.”
“I don’t need it, Your Royal Grace,” Leehash said. “I’m around you at all times.”
Etana smiled, shrugging. “I can use Rhori’s.” When I’m not around Areg.
An amused look flashed in the vestal’s intelligent eyes before she turned away.
“We should go
now,” Leehash said to the vestal, picking up the backpack. “If Lord Sebi doesn’t show, we’ll have a chance to be back at the temple before daybreak without raising anyone’s suspicions.”
The group set out immediately. At one in the morning they reached the clearing. Areg wasn’t there. Leehash pulled a thick cloak out of the backpack and spread it out. They sat down on it. No one spoke, unwilling to voice their distress.
They waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Leehash looked at his watch. “It’s three. We need to head back, Your Royal Grace.”
Her expressions pained, the vestal turned to Etana. “I’m sorry… His absence doesn’t necessarily mean…” Her chin quivered and she clenched her teeth for a moment. “It doesn’t mean Areg didn’t make it.”
“Well said,” a familiar voice came from behind them.
All four jumped up and peered into the dark.
A shape emerged from the group of trees they were staring at. As Areg came nearer, limping ever so slightly, Etana noticed he wore farmers’ clothes. He’d lost weight. His hair was longer, and his face was gaunt. He had a short beard.
The closer he got the harder it became to keep her joy inside. Murmuring his name, she ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
“You’re alive! Thank Goddess, you made it!” She traced her hands over his face as if to add another layer of sweet confirmation that he was, indeed, alive.
“Sweet pea.” Areg took her face between his hands and pressed his lips to hers in a brief, but oh-so-eloquent kiss. “I hoped you’d turn up. That’s what kept me going.”
When they let go of each other, and the rest of the company greeted Areg warmly, awareness of her lack of decorum heated Etana’s cheeks. Prioress Eckme would no doubt be shocked. Rhori would disapprove of their indiscretion.
With their marriage null and void now, she wasn’t supposed to act as if she were Areg’s wife. She wasn’t his bride, either. Not even his sweetheart.
Such mundane things seemed completely out of place. But would she let him kiss her again in front of disapproving witnesses?
In a blink.
“Ladies, I apologize for my disheveled appearance,” he said. “Been hiking the past five days. Keeping clean and tidy was a challenge.”
