Capture (The Machinists Book 4)

by Craig Andrews

  “If you have something to say, say it,” Westarra said. “By the First Families, you haven’t held anything else back.”

  “It’s not the other Families I question, Your Grace. It’s our strategy as a whole.”

  “Explain.”

  “We’re fighting a war of attrition, Your Grace. The Knights are bleeding us dry, harrowing our Families like a raiding party attacking supply lines. That’s not a war we can win—we don’t have the numbers. Every day, every battle, the odds get stacked further against us. And now they’ve started taking prisoners. If we weren’t prepared before, we certainly aren’t now. Something needs to change.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “I’d have us attack.”

  Westarra gave him a dismissive expression and rose from his seat to pace behind his chair. “We’ve been over this. After the battle in Zurich, when Jaxon and I first visited you at the Klausner Manor, we discussed this.”

  “We did, Your Grace.”

  “And I disagreed with you then.”

  “I remember.”

  “Why would now be any different?” Westarra asked. “The magi have many enemies, Allyn, but our biggest enemy is exposure. The pain and the fear you feel today, the concern you have for our future, would be nothing compared to what you would feel if that enemy reared its ugly head and our existence was known. We cannot fight a war we can’t control. We cannot fight a war off our land. We must keep the secret. Against all else, we must keep the secret.”

  “War, by its very definition, is out of control, Your Grace. And unless we fight back, there might not be a secret to keep.”

  Westarra opened his mouth to speak, but Allyn cut him off. He refused to be dismissed. The magi leadership needed to hear this. They’d been trying to fight a war from the outskirts for too long. “Excuse me, Your Grace, but this war has changed. And if we don’t change with it, it’s going to come to an end very quickly.”

  Westarra took a deep breath, looking from Allyn to Jaxon. “And how do you feel about this, Jaxon?”

  “I think it’s always wise to review one’s stance, Your Grace.”

  “You sound like you’re on the Forum, Jaxon. Speak clearly—I won’t have you politicking in a private meeting.”

  “I agree with him, Your Grace. You fear an offensive strategy will result in unexpected consequences, but I disagree. It’s the only way we can choose the battlefield.”

  “I see.” Arch Mage Westarra turned to the representative from the Blackburn Family. “Should I assume you are in agreement with this as well, Konrad?”

  “I…” Konrad shot an uneasy look in Allyn’s direction. It appeared he wasn’t ready to be lumped in with an insubordinate outsider just yet. “The battle had a different feel to it, Your Grace. I’ll say that. But I wasn’t privy to your previous discussions, and I am not as familiar with these Knights as Allyn and Jaxon are. Still, nobody has as much experience going against this enemy as they do, so who am I to disagree with them?”

  “A tempered endorsement if I ever heard one,” Westarra said sarcastically. “What about you, Leira? You are the true, senior-most member of the McCollum Family here. What do you have to add?”

  “I agree with Allyn, Your Grace,” she said without preamble. “I watched as my father battled Lukas for many months. Like you, he tried to contain it. Tried to keep word from spreading. And that prevented him from doing what he needed to do. I don’t want to see my people burn up the same way my home did.”

  Westarra nodded. “Thank you for your honesty, Leira. And thank you all for your… candidness.” He shot Allyn an amused look with that last part. “I’ll take this into consideration. In the meantime, I want you two to draw up how you would proceed. I want to see what your strategy would be.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Jaxon said.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Allyn said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Westarra said. “I expect to have an answer in two days. And you’ll be presenting it to the entire Forum.”

  Chapter 5

  Liam rested his chin on his fist, gently tapping his finger against his lips. It was, in his opinion, a pretty respectable impression of the statue of Socrates at the Academy of Athens. Not that he’d been there to see it in person, of course. Until very recently, he’d never even traveled on an airplane, let alone left his secluded home in the Pacific Northwest. Now, he had been to two countries, a real man of the world.

  It was almost ironic, then, that he sat in the Klausner library, staring at the wall of books and wishing more than anything to be back home.

  How can they all be so useless? He had been through all of the books, maybe not thoroughly—he didn’t have time for that—but slowly enough to decide if they warranted a closer inspection.

  They’re for show, nothing more.

  The wall was little more than decorative art. Trophies. A status symbol among the magi. He should have known; the clues had been there all along. The first should have been how the rest of the real art—the sculptures, ancient bowls and cups, and handmade vases—were mixed in with the books, filling holes and making the wall more attractive.

  That’s not entirely fair, a contradictory voice inside him said. Your library wasn’t any different.

  And it was true. The McCollum library had proudly displayed its own decorative pieces—though Liam liked to think of them as something more than that. The difference was that the McCollum library had been climate-controlled, the air kept a crisp sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit and free of moisture that would have ruined the texts. The artifacts had benefited from the regulated environment, but beyond that, the artifacts weren’t truly on display. The library had been underground, away from prying eyes and curious fingers. The Klausner library was different. Centrally located within the main floor of the manor, the wall of books was the magi equivalent of a huge television.

  Sighing, Liam stood and stepped up to the bookshelf. He ran his fingers across spines as he passed. He might have missed something, overlooked a small, nondescript tome that held the answers to the questions that had kept him up for countless nights since his imprisonment. Since the first time he’d seen Knight Commander of the Knights of Rakkar wield.

  How deep is the connection between the magi and humans? And why does the Blood Wand work on both?

  He absently touched the brand on his upper arm, tracing its pattern through his compression armor, knowing even as he gazed at the books that the search for answers was pointless. The information, if it existed at all, was a closely guarded secret. It wasn’t something he would find in a random library. There was only one place he would find something like that: the arch mage’s personal collection.

  The real question was, how could Liam convince the most powerful magi in the Order to allow him, a young magi of no real regard, into his personal archive?

  Magi of no regard? his internal voice of derision chided. Stop discounting yourself. You’re the first magi since the Reaping to have been touched by the Blood Wand, and the only magi in the Order with both machinist and magi abilities. If there’s anyone the arch mage will make an exception for, it’s you.

  The thought brought a smile to his lips. Even months after manifesting the magi abilities, Liam still could hardly believe the change. He’d wished for the abilities for so long, had worked so hard, and then when it seemed as if they would never develop, he’d resigned himself to the harsh reality. Allyn had helped with that process, of course, and Liam’s life had taken an unexpected twist when the two of them had discovered the new abilities being developed among the magi. But it hadn’t stopped him from still feeling like an outsider. A disappointment.

  After all, the fundamental difference between humans and magi was the ability to wield. And if a magi didn’t have that ability, then who were they? What were they? Liam had never felt com
fortable with the question, even after the Blood Wand had given him everything he had longed for. Even if, for the first time, Liam was starting to feel as if he belonged.

  Liam stopped, his finger sliding from the spine of a book to rest on the shelf. It’s all related. The new questions were just an extension of the old. He and his perspective were the only things that had changed. As it were, the central question had evolved from “where do I belong?” to “why do I belong?”

  Liam returned to his chair, again taking the pose of the ancient philosopher. He’d have to think on the realization, see if it would help him come at the question from a different angle, maybe open his search to new possibilities.

  “Am I interrupting something?” Allyn asked.

  Liam blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and found Allyn standing in the doorway. “Hmmm?”

  “What are you doing?” Allyn stepped into the room, stopping beside the chair opposite Liam. Nearly a full day had passed since Allyn and Jaxon had gone to assist the Friedl Family, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept at all. Dark rings circled swollen eyes, and his pale skin had a red tint as if it were forever stained with blood.

  “Just thinking,” Liam said. “What happened to you? You look terrible.”

  “Thanks,” Allyn said with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s a long story. And if I look half as bad as I feel, then I’m sure I’m quite a sight.”

  “The rumors are true then? The battle didn’t go well?”

  Allyn shook his head, his body deflating, and Liam thought for half a second that he would have to catch Allyn before he fell to the floor. Allyn steadied himself, though, and sat on the arm of the chair.

  “You should get some sleep,” Liam said.

  “There’s no time,” Allyn said. “The arch mage has agreed to review our strategy. Do you still have the Knight Commander’s logbook?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. It’s time we dust that off and use it to our advantage.”

  “All right,” Liam said. “When do you want to start?”

  “Now,” Allyn said. “We have a date with the Forum.”

  Chapter 6

  Jaxon stood at attention with Grand Mage Klausner, Arch Mage Westarra, and a mix of McCollum and Klausner magi as the motorcade carrying the members of the Forum rolled onto the Klausner grounds. There hadn’t been enough time to assemble the entire Forum, but those who were local had made the trip, and the rest would participate via videoconference.

  Five magi SUVs came to a stop and shut off their engines. Their drivers hopped out to open the doors for the grand mages. Men and women Jaxon recognized by sight, but had never met in person, climbed out and stretched stiff bodies. They greeted the arch mage first.

  Westarra thanked them for coming and directed them down the line, where Jaxon and other magi welcomed them. The assembly wouldn’t start for another few hours, but the members headed straight inside, likely to meet privately with the arch mage and other members of the Forum.

  Jaxon hadn’t gotten the invitation, and part of him wondered if he would. He was acting Grand Mage of the McCollum Family, a position recognized by Arch Mage Westarra and the Forum. Purposely excluding him from a meeting where every other member of the Forum was present would be a show of disrespect he hadn’t seen or felt since the Forum had dissolved the McCollum Family.

  He wrestled down a pang of irritation. There was no sense in agonizing over something that hadn’t happened yet. If he didn’t get the invitation, he would take it up with the arch mage later.

  “Welcome, Grand Mage Friedl,” Jaxon said as the next grand mage moved down the line. “We are with you.” The last bit was a deviation from tradition, but the man nodded his appreciation and moved on, giving Jaxon a clear view of the last two members to arrive. The first was another he recognized by sight but had never met. But the second…

  “Father?” Jaxon said, completely breaking decorum.

  The magi around him, forever shielded by tradition, acted as though they hadn’t heard the outburst. Grand Mage Wesley Green strode forward confidently, saluting the arch mage in the magi fashion before making his way down the line toward Jaxon.

  Watching with nervous anticipation as his father clasped arms and accepted the Family’s welcome, Jaxon wondered what he would say to the man who had nearly disowned him. In the end, he decided to hide behind the veil of convention.

  “Welcome, Grand Mage Green,” he choked out when his father stopped in front of him.

  “Thank you,” the elder Green said. His father was broad of shoulder, his skin darker even than Jaxon’s, with gray peppering his closely cropped hair. He’d aged since Jaxon had seen him last. The hard lines of his face grew deeper as he studied Jaxon, weighing him. It was everything Jaxon could do not to flinch, blink, or show any sign of being intimidated.

  “Return home,” his mother, Talisa Green, had said when they’d last spoken. “Return home, or we will be forced to remove you.”

  She and his father hadn’t agreed with his decision to remain with the McCollum Family after Graeme’s death, and were vehemently against him assuming the interim grand mage mantle. If his father’s current grim expression was any indication, it seemed he had come to make good on that promise.

  “This is a surprise,” Jaxon said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

  Wesley cast a sidelong glance at the remaining magi, who were beginning to disperse, the formality over. “It’s been too long, Jaxon. It’s time you and I had a talk. There’s much to discuss.”

  A cold feeling of dread washed over him. His father wasn’t the talking kind of man. If he said they needed to talk, then something was seriously wrong.

  “Come.” Wesley took Jaxon by the shoulder with a firm hand and directed him inside. “Let us find a quiet corner and speak as father and son.”

  Jaxon led his father into a private study on the first floor of the manor and closed the door behind them. The room was lightly furnished with a pair of leather armchairs resting in front of a small fireplace. Jaxon motioned for his father to sit, then did so himself.

  “We’re both busy, so I’m just going to get straight to the point,” Wesley Green said.

  If Jaxon hadn’t been so tense, he might have laughed. His father was making excuses for being direct and straight to the point—as if he had any other means of communication.

  “You disobeyed me,” Wesley said, leveling his gaze on Jaxon.

  With a stare that could force a mountain into relenting, Jaxon’s father was one of the most intimidating men he had ever known. Worse, the man knew it and often used his reputation to his advantage. But Jaxon had grown up since the last time his father had leveled that gaze at him. He’d faced down men who wanted to kill him, defeated other men who wished to imprison him. And he wasn’t in any mood to be manipulated by a man who too often acted like a petty bully.

  “You’ll have to be more specific than that, Father.”

  “You didn’t return home when your mother and I commanded you to.”

  “I had other responsibilities.”

  “None greater than your Family.”

  “Which is why I remained,” Jaxon said. “The McCollum Family is as much my own as the Green. Besides, wasn’t it you who taught me to honor my commitments? I promised I would see this Family to safety, and I remained so I could.”

  “You’re more important than the remnants of a splintered Family, Jaxon.”

  “We’re not splintered anymore,” Jaxon said. “You know that. You voted against the McCollum Family’s readmittance to the Forum and lost, remember?”

  “All the more reason for you to return home. You promised the Family safety? Fine. You’ve done that. They’re more stable now than they have been in years. It’s time you returned home.”

  “I still have mor
e to learn.”

  “And it’s time you learned it from me.” His father took a deep breath, his mask of strength cracking. The mask reappeared quickly, returning to the same dour appearance Jaxon knew and expected.

  The brief glimpse of humanity unnerved Jaxon, and he was suddenly less angry. His father was many things—a respected leader, accomplished magi, and dedicated husband—but devoted father wasn’t one of them. He was hard, ever the leader, even to his children, and never let down the façade of the strong grand mage. Seeing his father’s frailty was akin to watching a hero turn human before his eyes.

  “I didn’t order you home solely for your safety, Jaxon. It is time you reclaimed what is rightfully yours. It’s time you became grand mage in more than name alone.”

  It took several seconds for the words to register, and when they finally did, Jaxon didn’t know how to respond.

  “You’re abdicating?”

  He doesn’t expect me to believe such nonsense, does he? My father will be grand mage until the day he… Jaxon’s blood ran cold. He looked at his father, truly looked at him, and what he saw shook him to his very core. Wesley Green looked tired. His eyes were duller, the wrinkles of his face deeper, his skin oddly colored. What Jaxon had originally chalked up to travel fatigue suddenly took on a different meaning.

  “I’m dying, Jaxon.” Wesley leaned forward in his seat with a wince. He rubbed his hands together and dropped his tone. It wasn’t what Jaxon would call compassionate, though it had lost a bit of its edge. “I only have a few months left, maybe a few weeks, before my body begins its steep decline.”

  Jaxon sat back in his chair, shifting awkwardly, unsure what to do. His first thought was to comfort the man, but he wasn’t sure he even knew how.

  “Say something, Jaxon. Tell me you’ll fulfill your duty.”