“He said he’d love to have me for dinner. Even provided me with an evening to reserve for the occasion. It’s hard to interpret that as a lack of focus. Seems pretty clear he knows what he wants.”
“And in an occasion where the desires of the Dynasty Family are at odds with an individual—”
“With all respect, that is presumptive. The Dynasty Family, or at least the part I am privileged enough to share tea with this evening, has already determined a harmless dinner to be counter their desires?”
“Don’t interrupt me again, child. I don’t have time to research and consider every pretty girl Hammond tosses a dinner invitation to.”
“But you have. You’ve looked into it. Looked into me.”
“Yes, I have. And I’ll do you the courtesy of returning your bluntness with bluntness of my own, given the late hour. I see no upside to permitting your access to Hammond. I can prevent it, quite easily, and so I will. Any link you have to Hammond is tenuous at this point and most easily severed now. The consequences of genuinely inconveniencing the Dynasty are far greater than this easily forgotten trifle.”
They were working their way around to price. Abi had known this level of access wouldn’t come free. There were always minders at doors this high. She could feel Rei’s eyes digging deep into her, sizing up the leash and plotting when exactly to lock it into place. She waited. Rei was heavy on the dramatic presentation. The cold tea, the warm fire. She would make her case in more depth if Abi let her. And information was information.
“And what exactly does the Yellen family do? We so rarely see them at the Palace.”
“My parents were merchants, managing a set of five general stores, mostly in the Headwaters. That was before they passed, leaving me with a debt that almost perfectly equaled the value of their assets.” Abi had learned quickly that the habit of disguising and dressing up family names, histories, and financial status only lent power to one’s enemies. They quickly saw past the illusions and used them against you as they could. Lies only sharpened their weapons.
“That must have been hard for you.”
“It was what it was. No bearing on a dinner invitation years later.”
“Darling, in this building, everything bears on everything else.” There was a long pause. “I would ask you more about your past, but as you’ve already surmised, I know what I need to. You made your living working for a fetch, up until a few years ago. An interesting business, one which creates strong linkages to noble families, especially the younger generations, of course not all of them positive. By all accounts, the fetch you worked for was exceptionally talented, but still no titan of industry. A small, forgettable business. Until one digs a little deeper and finds your shop was pivotal in the decision to allow the Farrow citizenship rights in Celest.”
Abi waited for the hook. For all this scene-setting, Rei wouldn’t have invited her up here if she didn’t want something Abi had. She would have killed the date without ever revealing her hand, leaving Abi none the wiser.
“An even deeper dig,” Rei continued, “the kind few can accomplish, which I will freely say, is a credit to you, darling, reveals that this business was not solely engaged in the fetching of missing children. It was an intelligence outpost for the Farrow, which they leaned upon to sway the policy decisions of the Dynasty regarding the Farrow status as refugees. And rather remarkably, whether through luck or skill, it appears this shop delivered. You and your fetch found a way to insert yourselves into disproportionately impactful discussions. Following that coup, you refused offers to work for the Wrang’s intelligence arm and instead have set yourself up as a socialite on the Palace scene.” She picked up her teacup and took a sip. “But you’ve no doubt heard the saying once a spy, always a spy. Let’s get to the matter at hand, shall we? Who do you work for?”
“With no offense intended, there are many inaccuracies in that summary.”
“You avoid my question. Answer it. Or I could snap my fingers and have you thrown off that balcony. I assure you, my actions would be questioned by none.”
“Not even Hammond? Surely throwing a woman to her death for the crime of accepting a date with him won’t go over well. He may question your actions. I don’t know how quickly your Palace staff could clean up the blood, but I’d guess they’ve had practice.”
Rei scoffed. “If you are so quick to bargain with your life’s blood, you truly have little to offer.”
Abi closed her eyes. “Perhaps, as I fall, I’ll dream I have grown a pair of wings, as it is rumored Emma Kapin claimed before she threw herself off the balcony of the Baymo Hotel.”
Rei’s eyes darkened. “You pick at a scab that has long healed. If I cared to quell that ridiculous rumor, I would have done so long ago.”
Still, Abi thought she had scored one there. At least introduced the idea that she may hold information to threaten even the Kapins. Or of potential value to Rei.
“If you are not prepared to tell me who you work for, I’ll make this simple. For your benefit. I will give you a new answer. You work for me now. I’ll allow the dinner with Hammond to proceed. And you will report every word exchanged between the two of you.”
This was starting to look good. Hammond’s status among the Dynasty was always a subject of gossip. It appeared he at least played the game enough to interest Rei, despite her attempts to paint him as a lightweight. “Perhaps,” Abi said noncommittedly.
“You will do better than perhaps, or we’ll learn if you do in fact have wings.”
“I fly like an angel, Rei. Thank you for the tea.” Abi stood, waiting for a long time before Rei finally gave her the nod, permitting her to leave.
As Abi walked down the stairs, she did feel a bit like she was flying. She’d landed the attention of the Dynasty and now the true players were revealing themselves. Kay had fed Abi that piece about Emma Kapin’s growing madness before her suicide. She’d have to send her former boss a bottle of gin.
The next few weeks would require navigation of deeper and darker currents than Abi was used to. But she’d manage. She always did.
…
Ewan Silas was running late. Joah had set a meet after the midnight changing of the guards at The Harbor Grey, closest bar to Kay’s office. It had been at least an hour since then.
Ewan cursed his aching knees as he worked his way down the busy street, no one sparing an extra look for an old Farrow with his eyes cast down. He hated to admit his body no longer put up with being dragged all around the city on foot without building in some time for rest. He’d pushed it too far today.
His instincts had pulled him down to the Goen Square neighborhood, where he’d spent his daylight hours chatting up Farrow washerwoman. They made their morning rounds collecting soiled linens from hotels and crystal dens, brought them back to Goen where the water was cheaper, and scrubbed and gossiped until late in the day. None had seen any of the missing that Kay had set Ewan on, however. His questioning should have been easier given that he had a small painting of one of the missing, the girl Jenna Weiss, but it still bore no fruit. When the darkness fell, he’d transitioned to the neighborhood taverns, slinging his queries first at the bartenders and bouncers, then the workers resting after their long day with tall glasses of beer and whiskey.
He’d seen more than one former colleague from the defunct Farrow Guard who’d survived the war and made it to Celest. They were eager to talk and those with coin were happy to buy. Ewan held off at first but as the hour grew later and the possibility of finding anything of interest grew dimmer, he gave in. He could handle, even enjoy, the company for a glass, maybe two, but the conversation always landed in the same place. No jobs. The Gol didn’t trust the Farrow for policing or security positions. And the best jobs required carrying a weapon. The Dynasty was stingy with providing licenses for any blades longer than a paring knife. And that left Ewan’s colleagues among the former Farrow Guard bitter and unemployable.
He’d had one of these conversations too many
and he could feel the alcohol seeping into his old body. He’d need to stop and piss at least once during the walk back to The Harbor Grey. And much of it was uphill. No leads, nothing to look forward to. Except, he recalled, he had a job, one he should be grateful for, even if today it hadn’t put its best foot forward. Maybe Joah had found something that would get them all out of this rut.
Ewan glanced up at the cloudy night sky. The Fire Eye would come in a few weeks. Hopefully they’d have cleared this batch of cases by then and Kay could take the week off. Ewan could use the time to rest, tidy up his small apartment. Maybe even pay a call on one of the neighborhood war widows, always eager to cook for him, making thinly veiled references to the warmth and comfort of their homes.
He turned onto a deserted street and, after a quick look around, ducked into an alley to piss against a brick wall. One hand rested on his aching back. As the last few drops fell near his feet, Ewan heard the sound of boots farther down the alley. There was a bloom of light from around the corner. The silence didn’t match the numbers, if he wasn’t mistaken about what he was hearing. Who gathered in an alley but didn’t speak? His old cop sensibilities were raised. He looked back at the street. He was already late, and it wasn’t as if Joah hadn’t made him wait before. Ewan let out a quiet sigh and padded his way deeper into the alley. He’d make Joah move to a seat near the hearth even if the youth was already settled at the bar.
As Ewan rounded the corner, readying himself for the harmless, lost old man routine while he got some sense of what exactly this was, his breath caught. He immediately knew he’d stumbled upon something he wasn’t supposed to see. One of them had their backs to him, and as it turned, Ewan got a clear look at what was before him. He had seen darkness and dementia in his long years. But what he saw in the alley awakened a terror he hadn’t felt since he was a child, tremoring in the dark at the thought of something horrible standing at the foot of his bed.
“Are you lost, old one?” it asked.
Fear had an icy grip on his chest. With all other possibilities eluding him, Ewan fell back on the truth. His fingers fumbled as he reached into his jacket and removed a small, painted image of a girl. He raised it before him. “I’m looking for her.”
“We know her,” it replied. “She is one of ours.”
Ewan gasped as he felt a blade punch into his back. The second blade burned like fire, and he never felt the third.
It was hours later that the body was found. The old Farrow lay dead in the alley, facing upwards towards the dark night sky.
Chapter 1. Harsh Words
The Fire Eye opened over the city of Celest, just as it had every year as far back as anyone could remember. The same day of the year, same time of night, same miraculous celestial event. It began with the slow appearance of what could be mistaken for a chain of stars. These grew steadily brighter to form a jagged line of bright purple in the dark skies. Then, so like an eye drawing open, the line spread into an oval of blazing light, colors trapped somewhere between a rainbow and a flame. Huge, it took over the sky above the city, perched over it as a flower in bloom might stand over a clump of grass.
Kay, known to many as Kay the fetch, wasn’t outside to see it. Her experience this year was restricted to listening to the crowd in the streets as they reacted to the Fire Eye’s annual emergence. She instead perched uncomfortably at the edge of a chair in the opulent Weiss family manor, her eyes on her lap. A teacup sat untouched on the table. This household had no interest in celebrating. This meeting, one Kay was given no opportunity to avoid, had been scheduled at precisely this time to reinforce that notion.
“It’s been three months and you still have no idea where our daughter is?” Mylor Weiss had the habit of leaning in with his eyes wide as he asked questions. He wore a slightly shocked expression on his face as though in constant disbelief that he even had to voice his concerns. His clothing was expensive and tailored to fit his long and lean frame, but he was unevenly shaved and had heavy bags under his eyes. Kay could see the tightly held decorum in the home was slipping, a consequence of the long and stressful ordeal they had endured. That they continued to endure.
Mylor’s wife sat prim and upright. Bola’s body language was less aggressive, her questions no less cutting. The distraught parents had reached the end of their patience and they’d chosen this evening as the time to finally unleash their dissatisfaction with Kay.
“No,” Kay said. “I don’t. But we haven’t stopped looking.” Her hands were folded to prevent them from wandering. She would have preferred to pace the room, but the iron gaze of her hosts pinned her in place as surely as any binding. And no doubt her steps would have led her to the window, where the Fire Eye would be visible over the tree-lined streets of the Apex. The lanterns would be launching, sending wishes for peace and happiness floating towards the Fire Eye. If Kay had time tonight, she’d launch one of her own, bearing a wish to learn who had killed Ewan Silas and a chance to meet them in a dark alley, not unlike the one in which her friend’s body had been found six weeks ago.
“I’m aware you haven’t stopped looking. In part because I haven’t stopped paying you, though I’m beginning to question whether that remains worthwhile. You came highly recommended. Now I am forced to wonder whether your reputation is deserved.” He spoke in sharp bursts, voice low for the time being.
Kay gambled on silence. This was less about hearing an explanation from her than giving the Weiss a chance to loose their tensions. She’d sat in this chair before. She’d learned to recognize the boiling points of the many parents she’d help track down their missing loved ones. Nearly every case reached it, especially where the resolve being tested was that of a noble and wealthy family. One unused to delay and dissatisfaction. Kay sometimes marveled how frequently such a tongue-lashing precipitated a break in her cases, though she saw no such luck on this particular horizon.
She might be tempted to wonder if being scolded actually helped speed her resolution. But not in this case. She’d been working all hours, chasing every possible lead. The trail had gone cold and Kay fought to keep down the image of the Weiss girl being buried in a shallow grave outside the walls.
“Three months!” Mylor punctuated the statement by pounding his fist on the table. Kay’s teacup, still untouched, rattled in its saucer.
“Please understand,” Bola broke in with a voice that was anything but understanding, “we’ve placed a great deal of faith in you. Faith which has come at the expense of other avenues we could have explored to effect the return of our daughter. We are fighting to find reason to not regret our decision.” She took a sip of tea, her eyes watching Kay over the rim of the gilded cup. “We think it is time you told us about your competition. If your methods have stalled, perhaps others should take up the case. As you so often say, your interest is in the safe return of our daughter.”
“I hate to tell you this, but no one would take this case.”
“Why not?”
“Because they would doubt their ability to find her after so much time has passed—”
Mylor cut in, “After so much time has been lost—”
“And,” Kay pressed on, “I’ve already consulted with most of them. They don’t have any leads or suggestions we haven’t already explored more than once.”
“So we are left with no options but to continue to pay our ineffective fetch to make no progress.” Mylor exchanged a long look with his wife. Kay could see the thin layer of anger rested atop a deep reservoir of pain.
“Kay,” Bola asked softly, “what would you have us do?” Her eyes were wet. “She is our daughter. Her seventeenth birthday has come and gone. Her room sits empty. Her friends no longer come by to ask after her. The world is moving on, and still we sit here, desperate that every ring of the bell will bear news. Hoping that you will come through for our family. But we wait and wait and…” She trailed off, looking towards the window, holding back tears.
“Keep your faith alive,” Kay said. “Be patient
. I know it is difficult, but we have a network of informants all around the city. We’ve chased down as many avenues for her abduction as possible. If Jenna left voluntarily, she may send word any day. This is around the time any lingering glamour of an escape fades and the harsh realities set in. Her money runs out and everyone around her gets less accommodating.”
Kay didn’t voice her other hope, much less rational, that the Fire Eye opening would somehow shake something loose. If not something tied to where and how Jenna was held, then something in Kay that would enable her to penetrate the murkiness and bring the girl home.
“But why would she have run away?”
“They always have a reason, and it’s always both surprising and unsurprising. That’s for you to deal with on her return. And if her departure wasn’t voluntary, if she was taken, this has been a long time for them to avoid any mistakes. We’re hunting just as relentlessly as we did the first day. Time is not working for us, but it isn’t working against us either. We’ll find her.”
“And if she was smuggled out of Celest?”
“That’s the worst case, but I don’t think that’s what’s happened.”
“What do you think?”
Kay searched for the right words to capture the gravity of the situation without further angering the Weiss couple. She was distracted by the sudden appearance of a small face in the window over Mylor’s shoulder. Kay dipped her eyes to her teacup to mask her surprise. When she had her own face under control, she looked back up, focusing on Mylor. She could see Jenna’s little sister Mina watching from the neighboring library, her playful eyes gleaming in a window that linked the two rooms. The child had her finger pressed to her lips. She gave Kay a small, secret smile, then beckoned. Kay lowered her chin then gave a quick nod, slight enough to pass by the parents.
The Fire Eye Chosen_Sequel to The Fire Eye Refugee Page 2
