Eve of Destruction

by C. E. Stalbaum

  She grumbled in annoyance. “If you want to test her power, let me attack her, see what she does.”

  His sigh was perfectly audible even through the distortion of the stone. “Stay close, Shaedra. Soon you’ll have a chance to act and hopefully get that journal back for us.”

  “So you say,” she muttered. “I’ll keep you apprised.”

  She tapped the stone again, and it sank back into its holder. Once again she was alone in the alleyway with the vermin and trash. Her wounds had healed but her clothes were ruined. Fortunately, her quarry wasn’t likely to go anywhere else tonight, and that gave her some time.

  Shaedra dragged herself to her feet. She needed to find a tailor’s shop to rob. If she was lucky, maybe she’d even find some Dusties nearby. She was hungry, after all.

  She was always hungry.

  Chapter Seven

  “It was foolish to send them away,” Gregori Danev lamented as he idly twirled the cane in his hand. “I should have known better.”

  “You did know better,” Aram reminded him. “That’s why you sent them to the Calio.”

  A lot of good that did them, Danev scolded himself. The kids had been in his town for all of a few hours and already people were shooting at them. Any doubts he’d been harboring about how serious this was had been neatly washed away. Tara had been killed for a reason, and now her daughter was in mortal danger.

  The question was whether or not he—or anyone else—could protect her.

  “They’re secure; you don’t need to worry about that,” Aram said as if reading his thoughts. “I’d wager they’ll be asleep soon enough.”

  “Less than an hour after being shot at?” Danev snorted. “When I was there age I’d have soiled my trousers.”

  The bodyguard shrugged. “You learn a lot about a person when you see them under pressure. The boy has seen combat before and can handle himself. The girl…she’s a fighter.”

  Danev cocked a curious eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “Most people who hear gunshots panic or run and hide—and with good reason. Others channel that fear into rage and fight back. She’s one of those.”

  “Well, she is a DeShane,” Danev murmured. “I’m not sure there’s an ounce of sensibility in her blood.”

  Aram remained silent, but he’d spoken his piece. Danev always appreciated the man’s input, terse as it often was. It was rare enough to find someone willing to take a bullet for you, and it was rarer still to find one who was able to think on his feet. But then, the Crimson Eclipse wasn’t in the business of training simple bodyguards. For almost three hundred years they’d been producing an elite breed of warrior-magi, men and women trained in both martial and magical combat. They were meant to serve as both advisors and protectors to the magi-caste.

  Aram had actually resigned from the order several years ago, and while most magi, independent or otherwise, would hardly consider that a résumé booster, in Danev’s case it had immediately piqued his interest. He’d called in some favors and learned that Aram’s only offense had been to “talk down” his previous ward, a noble-born Esharian mage who probably deserved worse. But Enclave politics being what they were, the incident had been probably enough to make Aram’s life rather miserable, and so he’d chosen to leave rather than deal with the continued fallout.

  Having made a career out of casually spiting the Enclave himself, Danev couldn’t fault anyone for slapping around one of their annoying magisters now and then. He actually considered it something of a badge of honor. And perhaps more importantly, he would have never considered hiring anyone with active connections to the Enclave. As much as he understood the necessity of a watchdog organization for magi, that didn’t mean he wanted them looking over his shoulder constantly. Quite the opposite; he had his hands in too many pies across the country to deal with their nonsense. Aram had served him loyally for almost two years now, and Danev could scarcely imagine running his business without the man’s advice.

  “The newspapers from Cadotheia have been going on about Simon and some exotic Talami consort,” Danev said after a few moments of silence. “How much would you bet on it being the same woman you saw tonight?”

  “I don’t think it’s even a question,” Aram replied. “And it solidifies Chaval’s involvement.”

  Danev nodded. “Not that I ever really doubted it. For all the Enclave’s faults, I didn’t believe they’d actually hurt Tara. But the question is why Simon chose to act now—what’s in that journal he wants? And what does Eve have to do with anything?”

  “It could be something as simple as a secret he wants to keep buried,” Aram suggested. “If he and DeShane were lovers, then I’m sure she knew several.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t explain why he waited a few decades. He’s been in politics for a long time now, and he’s had almost a year of rising popularity to make a move.”

  “He could have been tipped off about something that would make him look vulnerable. Or maybe DeShane threatened him directly.”

  “I can’t imagine why she would do that,” Danev said. “That’s not her style at all.”

  “You did say she wasn’t always sensible,” Aram pointed out. “He might have contacted her first for all we know. She didn’t seem to share any of this with her family.”

  Danev sighed. “Well, hopefully the queries I made will give us something to work with soon. For now, though, it seems we have a new problem. Since you didn’t say anything, I take it you didn’t recognize their mysterious protector?”

  Aram’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “I’m not sure, but I have a hunch.”

  Danev cocked an eyebrow. He was well aware of the animosity between the Eclipse and the Vakari. In addition to their protective duties, Eclipseans were also the Enclave’s longstanding weapon against Defilers—or had been, until the Magister’s Council had decided to start using Vakari in that role. Their near-immunity to magic made them perfect weapons against rogue magi, and it was something of a permanent sore spot amongst the ranks of loyal Eclipseans who felt their role had been, for lack of a better term, eclipsed.

  “Don’t keep it to yourself,” Danev prompted.

  “You wouldn’t recognize the name anyway,” Aram insisted.

  “Humor me.”

  The man took in a long, slow breath. “I think it was Shaedra Nafal.”

  “You’re right. That name doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  “I thought she was dead, to be honest,” Aram said softly. His knuckles whitened as he squeezed against the balcony railing. “Some of the magisters believed she was the first of her kind. All of them thought she was unstable.”

  “Well, that’s cheerful news,” Danev muttered. “And what do you mean, ‘the first of her kind?’ I thought the story was that all the Vakari were created at the same time.”

  Aram shrugged. “I’m not sure anyone knows for certain. The common fantasy is that a renegade mage wiped out the entire country with a single spell and managed to transform a few of its people into…well, into whatever they are now.”

  “I’ve heard the story, but I never really believed it,” Danev said. “Of course, we all saw what Vacal did to Kalavan.”

  “No zombies walked off that island.”

  “That we know of, anyway.”

  Aram grunted. “You’ve never been the type to buy into wild conspiracy theories.”

  “No,” Danev admitted, “but I do understand the power of Defilement. And more to the point, I don’t trust the Enclave to clean up whatever mess they created, either.” He grunted and waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, that’s not really pertinent. Was this Shaedra Nafal working for the Enclave at some point?”

  “For a time, yes,” Aram said. “As far as I know, they managed to turn all the surviving Vakari into their own personal pet assassins. Those that weren’t willing to go along with it were destroyed somehow.”

  Danev nodded gravely. He had indeed heard the rumors before. The Vakari had become something of a folk legen
d over the years, but unlike tales of the Black Ganthor or the Shadow Serpent used to frighten children into behaving, the Vakari were quite real. He had never seen one before himself, but supposedly they were nearly invincible, even against the spells of a full magister. They were dark, tormented creatures that existed only to feed on the lifeblood of others.

  He wasn’t sure how the Enclave controlled them, but they were widely considered the best deterrent against the temptation of Defiling magic. The more conspiratorially inclined magi went so far as to suggest the Enclave used the Vakari to eliminate any mage who didn’t go along with their wishes.

  “So you don’t think this Shaedra is still with the Enclave?” Danev asked.

  “I don’t believe so,” Aram said. “As I mentioned before, I’m surprised she’s even alive. An unstable mage is risky enough—an unstable Vakari is a massacre just waiting to happen.”

  “Well, that doesn’t leave us many options. Either the Enclave knows Simon is after Eve and sent this Shaedra to protect her for some reason—which seems unlikely—or she’s doing it of her own volition.” Danev grimaced. “I’m not sure which bothers me more.”

  “There’s another option. Some members of the Magister’s Council have special connections to particular Vakari. It’s possible one of them is acting on his own volition, and I bet you can guess who that would be.”

  “Glenn,” Danev reasoned. “He knew Eve was coming here, and he spoke to the kids before they left. He could have easily sent this Vakari to keep an eye on them.”

  “The question is why he would send a Vakari and not an Eclipsean to protect her.”

  Danev tapped a finger to his lips. “Well if he was working outside the Enclave, that would mean he wouldn’t want to use an Eclipsean, either.”

  “Yes, but there’s another possibility.”

  Danev raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

  “He’s not sure if he wants to protect her,” Aram said, “or kill her.”

  A knot abruptly twisted in Danev’s stomach. That was an angle he hadn’t even considered. It didn’t make any sense on the surface. Why would the Enclave—why would Glenn Maltus—have any desire to harm the daughter of the Prophetess?

  “It’s possible Tara knew something that was both a threat to Chaval and to the Enclave,” Aram suggested into the silence.

  “I don’t see what that could be,” Danev murmured. “But I suppose it is possible…and that opens up a lot more questions.”

  “We could try to find Shaedra and talk to her, but I’m not sure what that would get us,” Aram said. “For now it’s probably best to just wait and see what else we can dig up. I’m not comfortable being this blind.”

  Danev nodded idly. There was no disagreeing with that. For the second time today, he wished he had kept in better contact with his old friends from Valmeri. He suddenly wondered if they might all be in trouble. Could this have something to do with their entire group rather than Tara specifically? He couldn’t see how or why, but the way Simon worked these days, one could never be sure.

  Most of all, though, Danev wondered what in the void Glenn was up to. He couldn’t believe his old friend would do something to harm Tara or her progeny, but thirty years was a very long time. People changed, and the Enclave didn’t tend to change them for the better.

  “You should get some rest, then, sir,” Aram suggested. “It’s late, even for you.”

  “I could say the same to you, but I know you’d ignore it.”

  Aram shrugged. “I need to watch over the children. I’ll worry about rest tomorrow afternoon unless something else comes up.”

  Danev smiled and patted the man on the back. “All right, just make sure they get whatever they need.”

  “If I may say so, sir, you don’t usually take an interest in charity cases.”

  “This isn’t a charity case,” Danev said. “This is personal.”

  “I see.”

  Danev eyed the other man carefully for a long moment, wondering what else Aram was thinking, then finally shrugged and set off down the hall towards his own room. The Pampered Goddess was as protected as it was ever going to get now, with illusions draped over the front and rear entrances as well as most of the windows. If anyone did try to break in, they would find it quite unpleasant—unless it was the Vakari, of course. They had no means to stop her at all.

  He tried not to dwell on that as he took off his hat and jacket and prepared for bed.

  ***

  Zach was awake before dawn even though he had no reason to be. They hadn’t gotten back to the Goddess until well after midnight, and they hadn’t fallen asleep until well after that. He was actually amazed Eve had managed to sleep at all, but after both Danev and Aram assured them that they’d be safe here, she’d curled into a ball and passed out. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising—the body could only take so much, after all, and neither of them had gotten much sleep in the last week.

  For his part, he was just used to getting up this early, and two years in the service had made it an impossible habit to break. Plus, he didn’t particularly trust these people, especially Aram. The fact the man had been silently trailing them the whole night but hadn’t actually gotten involved in the fighting was…unsettling. Perhaps he’d recognized that fighting a Vakari was suicide and had stayed back out of self-preservation. Or perhaps he’d been a backup in case the first assassins failed.

  It was a stretch, Zach conceded, but he still didn’t like it. And Danev himself was just a bit too willing to help them out, especially for someone who hadn’t even seen Mrs. DeShane for decades. Something else was going on here, and until Zach figured out what it was, he didn’t plan on sleeping any more than absolutely necessary.

  Letting out a tired sigh, he got dressed as quietly as he could and brushed a hand against Eve’s face. She was out cold, and he allowed himself a tight smile before stepping into the hallway.

  Aram was there waiting for him. “Mr. Danev won’t be able to see you until this afternoon at the earliest, and possibly not until this evening. You may as well sleep in.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m awake,” Zach told him. “Eve will be out for a bit yet.”

  “As you wish,” Aram said with a shrug. “The morning pastries should have been delivered downstairs, or if not they will be soon. Help yourself.”

  Zach nodded and met the other man’s eyes. He didn’t usually feel compelled to have an alpha male stare-down like this, but sometimes he found it useful in getting a read on another person. Was Aram just a mercenary? An ex-soldier? It would take more than a single look to figure that out, but those were the two most likely options.

  “Sounds good,” Zach replied coolly after a moment. “So, any guesses on whom this Vakari is or why he’s following us around?”

  “She,” Aram corrected. “And no. Rumor has it there’s a coven up in Tormar, but that’s probably just hearsay. I’ve had some of our people look around the building here, but if she wants to stay hidden there isn’t much we can do.”

  Zach glanced back down the hallway. Everything appeared quiet, which made sense; he doubted this place got any business until after nightfall on most days unless it doubled as a pastry shop.

  “So I have a question for you,” he said. “What would you have done if the Vakari wasn’t there?”

  “Protect you.”

  “Even though you would have been outnumbered what, three to one?”

  “Local muscle doesn’t concern me,” Aram replied contemptuously. “The woman who was leading them, though, might have been a yohisha.”

  Zach frowned. “A Talami spy? Why would one of them be involved in this?”

  Aram’s eyebrow twitched fractionally. Perhaps he was impressed that Zach recognized the term. “I assume she’s freelance. Mr. Danev believes she is the same woman who has reportedly been hanging around Chaval. If that’s true, it’s likely you were right to suspect him all along.”

  Zach nodded. He didn’t know much about Talam, unfortuna
tely, other than the fact it was a destitute island nation on the other side of the world. Few of their people immigrated here, though if he remembered correctly, one of Chaval’s campaign points was to open trade relations as quickly as possible. The Talami people had overthrown their royal dynasty a few years back, and the military government that had taken over had banned the Edehan faith and all use of the Fane. Zach imagined that meant Talam would be a huge market for Arkadian technology—specifically, Steamworks technology.

  Yohisha he had heard more about, though he guessed much of it was just scuttlebutt soldiers had cobbled together from local hearsay. Ostensibly they were Talami spies long employed by clan lords as weapons against rivals. They were trained as assassins, courtesans, and anything else a situation might warrant. Given how this woman had apparently broken into the Pampered Goddess and then followed them to the Calio, it seemed as likely an explanation as any.

  “So you said last night that this woman managed to impersonate one of your attendants.”

  Aram shook his head. “Not exactly. She bought time as a client and took the opportunity to lurk around.”

  “This doesn’t happen often, I take it?”

  “It’s never happened before, as far as I know,” the man replied, unfettered.

  Zach grunted. “Well, what are you going to do if this Vakari comes looking for us here?”

  “Given that she seemed determined to protect you but still remain hidden, I find that unlikely.”

  “Let’s call it a hypothetical then. Do you have any tricks to take her down?”

  Aram actually smiled thinly. “If you’re worried I’m going to try and steal your girl, you can relax. I’m not paid to fraternize.”

  Zach blinked. That was about the last response he’d expected. “Uh…what?”

  “You want to challenge me, I understand,” Aram told him calmly. “But I’m not the person you should be worried about. I swore an oath to defend magi with my life, and Mr. Danev has asked me to extend that protection to the two of you.”