by Brian Keller
As Cooper watched the tactics unfold, at first it looked like Vorni had the upper hand, then it became apparent that what looked like an advantage was a trap being dangled by Master Loril. Oddly enough, it seemed like Vorni recognized it but entered anyway. As Master Loril attempted to close his opponent off Vorni shifted his weight entirely to his right and slashed with his left hand, bringing that blade into the crease of Master Loril’s left hip. Master Loril didn’t have time to parry but he laid the flat of his left dagger over his leg, protecting his left femoral artery. Vorni’s blade cut into his flesh, but not deeply so. Vorni’s faced bore a shocked expression. Whether because Master Loril had knowingly allowed him through his defenses, or whether he hadn’t anticipated Master Loril’s other blade to find its way into his neck wasn’t clear, but both circumstances were true. Master Loril quickly withdrew his blade and Vorni stepped away from the larger man. He released the blade he’d just used to cut Master Loril and held his left hand up to his neck, in a futile attempt to obstruct the pulsing flow. His short sword made a ringing clatter as it hit the stone floor.
As Vorni sagged back against the wall, Master Loril leaned in close, “Why? Before you die.” Vorni had his palm clamped tightly against the side of his neck. He half-coughed, half-laughed, which caused blood to well out from under his hand, “Why?” He coughed again and looked askance at Master Loril, “Did you mean to nick my windpipe?” Master Loril remained silent and Vorni continued, interrupting himself every few words to try to clear his throat, “I don’t know Jarell’s plans, if that’s what you’re asking… All he promised me was… a return to a life of freedom… and higher pay.” At this last bit, Vorni laughed, which turned into a coughing fit that didn’t end until Vorni was seated on the floor. Despite the fact that he was bleeding profusely, Master Loril squatted down resting his elbows on his knees. Each hand still held a blade. Master Loril’s smile was thin, “Freedom? That’s what he promised you? These last years you’ve felt constrained?” Master Loril shifted his weight, sheathed the blade in his left hand to hold pressure on the front of his thigh and leaned in closer. He spoke in a gentle tone, “I have your freedom here in my hand.” His blade leapt forward slipping between Vorni’s ribs, piercing his heart. Vorni let out a groan as his head sagged, resting his chin on his chest.
Master Loril turned and waved Cooper forward, “Give me a hand up.” Cooper sheathed his blades and stepped forward swiftly. He wondered how much help he might be able to offer to the big man, but whatever he could do, he would. Once Master Loril was standing, he hunched forward as he reapplied pressure to his wound, “Keep an eye on me as we walk. Vorni didn’t hit anything vital, but it’s going to require me to pay Miss Camilla a visit.” He turned slightly and pointed at the copper tube he’d tossed down in front of Vorni, “Pick that up for me, won’t you?”
As Cooper picked up the tube and held it out, Master Loril waved it away. Cooper tucked it into his belt and asked, “Sir, you referred to this tube as a “blessing”?” Master Loril chuckled briefly, “That isn’t simply a container to hold a rolled up message. The copper tube symbolizes that the bearer is “acting with the Guildmaster’s blessing”. No one may interfere with the bearer without expecting retribution from the Guild.” He paused to take a breath, then continued, “So when you took it upon yourself to conduct surveillance on Jarell, while carrying a copper tube, you were announcing that you were acting with the blessing of the Guildmaster, which you did not have. That act in itself was a betrayal of the Guild and it’s Master. Now do you understand how lenient your punishment was?” Cooper felt the weight of the question and couldn’t form any reply.
Master Loril clapped him on the back, making him stumble, as he told him, “There’s now something else you need to take care of.” Cooper felt that the weight had somehow just increased, “Something else, sir? What is it?” Master Loril chuckled, “You’ve finished your assignment. Once you’ve finished your remaining classes, and passed the tests, you’ll be accepted as an Adept.” Cooper was confused, “So… I need to take care of my studies and tests, sir?” Master Loril laughed loudly, “No, lad! You need to design your token and give me the diagram!” He limped away chuckling and shaking his head, then he stopped and glanced back at him, “There is one other thing. I’d almost forgotten. Apparently Lash has some artwork that you’re supposed to go look at. I don’t know where he’d be right now; but I know who I’d ask if I were the one looking for him.” Cooper wondered how Master Worthan would react to the news that Vorni was dead, and he wondered who he should inform about the mess to be cleaned up near Vorni’s old room.
Chapter 24
A couple hours before lunch, Iona felt a flash of her Gifted target’s magic. Brief but intense, not like it had been on the Waterfront. She was becoming more attuned. This time he was in The Grid. She couldn’t help but think of her target as a “he” at this point. She needed to speak with her teacher. Acting on her assumption that her target was a member of the Guild, and he had been in the company of a young man she’d personally assessed to be an Assassin, then a quick burst like this might well mean someone had been killed. If that person was in the Grid then word would soon be out. Perhaps the professor would feel interested enough to speak with some of those people or organizations he’d mentioned. If he wanted more information, she’d need to be allowed into wherever the Gifted boy had committed the act.
At first the professor didn’t seem interested, almost as if he doubted her report. When she described how specific the sensation was, and that she’d felt a definitive direction and an indication of distance he’d become even more intrigued. “Very well”, he said, “if there has been a recent assassination in the Grid, no doubt there’ll be some word of it.
Ten minutes later, her escort had been assembled and the professor led them out into the city. As they entered the Grid, it was apparent that something had happened. The City Watch patrols seemed more alert, as if they were actually looking for something, or someone, instead of simply walking their patrol routes until their shift ended. They’d moved a few blocks into the Grid and her professor stopped a Watch patrol. “Pardon my interruption, has there been an attack?” One of the younger guardsmen started to blurt out, “Some nobleman has be- ow! What the-?” One of the more senior members of the patrol had given him a backhanded blow. This could not fail to get the young man’s attention, considering the fist that struck him was armored. The older guardsman bowed his head to the professor, “Forgive his impertinence, m’lord. Please have a care if you continue walking through the Grid at the present. Lord Talmet has been killed in his home, and his killer hasn’t yet been caught.” The professor turned to face her, “In daylight, midday even… Quite bold, your young Guildsman, isn’t he?” Iona let her head hang, “It would seem so, sir.” Still, she hadn’t given up. She needed more information. As long as she could provide a benefit as a Hunter, she might be able to avoid returning to her tedious life of being a specimen. At least engaged out here, she had something to focus on. Concentrating on something specific forced her to prioritize, and all the rest of the sensations dropped into the background. It wasn’t exactly peaceful, but it was the next best thing. She pulled her head erect and replied to the teacher directly, “Sir, if you can get me inside Lord Talmet’s residence, perhaps I can locate another imprinted object..?” The older guardsman had listened to their brief exchange but at this moment he cleared his throat, “If there’s nuthin’ else, sir, we’ll be returning to our patrols.” He didn’t wait for a reply or gesture, he simply turned and herded his patrol further along their route. The professor called out to them, “Where is Lord Talmet’s residence?” The younger guardsman had recovered enough from his earlier chastisement and sent a reply over his shoulder as he pointed deeper into the Grid, “Just follow the alarm bells, sir”. This time the younger man was watching and was able to avoid the next backhanded swing.
The combined force of the gate guards and the small contingent of City Watchmen at t
he gates to Lord Talmet’s residence didn’t know how to react to the small group from the University. The professor insisted they be allowed to enter, as they were conducting an investigation, but no one seemed willing to let them in. One of the City Watchmen was sent inside to speak with whoever was leading the investigation. The professor chafed at being made to wait.
A few minutes later the Guardsman came back at a run, his mail jingling and his feet striking the ground hard. He gulped a few quick breaths and reported, “Follow me, please. It seems you’re expected.” Several of the mages exchanged looks of surprise and confusion, but the professor thrust out his chest, proud of having been recognized.
As they entered the home, Iona was impressed with how richly, yet tastefully appointed it was. She’d been in a few homes of the nobility and so many of them made such an attempt to show off their wealth and status that their homes ended up looking like cluttered showcases. This residence had the appearance of a very wealthy owner. So wealthy in fact, that he didn’t feel the need to assault his guests with an overabundance of visual and tactile evidence of it.
As they entered the “receiving room”, she noted that the tastefulness of the entrance ended in the hall. All the overbearing yet typical displays of the wealthy were present here as a shallow attempt to strike awe in whoever entered the room. Iona noticed them initially but soon her attention, as well as the attention of her colleagues, was drawn to the crumpled, bloody figure on the floor. Iona glanced around the room, noting the number of people and where they were positioned. She then cast her net wide, in an attempt to encompass the entire space. Besides her fellows from the University there were two others in the room that, in her eyes, reacted like sparklers. One of these men was quickly crossing the room to greet the professor. Iona ignored them and focused now on the body. There was something nearby but she couldn’t get a clear view of it. It felt like a smudge on a window, from the right distance and the right angle of the light it was perfectly obvious, but from any other position it might disappear. As she stepped closer, the man that had greeted her teacher called out, “Miss! Stop! Excuse me, but what are you doing?” She stopped but she couldn’t seem to tear herself away from the scene. Her eyes scanned the area immediately around the body and quickly identified why she couldn’t clearly focus on an item. It’s because it wasn’t a single item, it was items, plural. She turned her head to address the professor, “Sir! Here.” She pointed.
She turned to gauge the professor’s reaction and this time actually looked at the man that he’d been speaking with. The man was average height, average build and except for the pronounced adam’s apple and slightly hawk-like nose, he was nearly as “non-descript” as she was. As she looked from one man to the other, the professor made an obvious show of introducing them, “Iona, this man is Spymaster to our Prince, the Honorable Yoren Aporigh.” He then turned to the Spymaster, “Sir, this is Iona. The University’s finest Hunter.” This caught Iona by surprise. She’d never been described as the “finest” anything as far as she knew. Yoren had taken a few steps in her direction but she’d already focused her attention back onto her teacher, “Sir, these items are imprinted. I can sense it.” She then turned and accepted Yoren’s proffered hand, then pointed, “Those coins, sir. May I?” Yoren raised an eyebrow, “May you what?” Iona gave him an exasperated look, there was more than a hint of irritation in her voice. “May I pick them up, sir?” she let out a huff of air. Yoren looked from her, to the professor, back to her, and then rested back on the professor as he inquired, “Perhaps you can explain what it is you intend to find here?” The teacher faced the two of them and held his palms towards them. One placating gesture to be shared between them. He then directed his attention to Yoren, “Iona can “feel” an imprint left behind by the killer. The same person that dropped those coins.” Yoren raised an eyebrow as he turned to inspect Iona from head to toe, “Is that right?” Iona nodded, “It is, sir. But not so well at a distance. By holding them in my hands, I can almost get a sense of the person. I can’t see them, but I can get a sense of their Talent, and maybe even flashes of their state of mind at the time they dropped the item.” She pointed at the coins, “Or items, in this case.” Yoren gestured an open hand towards the coins, “Go ahead. Pick them up. Hold them. Taste them, if it will help us find this assassin!” Iona wrinkled her nose at the thought, “It doesn’t work like that, sir, but thank you.”
As she picked up the coins, she felt the sensations wash over her. She closed her eyes, trying to immerse herself in the feelings. Yoren intruded on her thoughts, “Anything?” Iona’s irritation broke through to the surface, “Yes! Now please be quiet!” She re-entered a detached state as she felt the aura that soaked the coins merge with her own and she could almost feel the Gifted young man’s presence in the room. She opened her eyes and held to coins out for the Spymaster to inspect. As he reached for them, she snapped her hand closed. A look of irritation crossed his face but before he could voice his thoughts, Iona spoke quickly, “Sir, if you touched them, you might disrupt the imprint. I’d like you to look at them, to see them for what they are. Simple copper coins of the realm. But to me, they are another key in understanding my target.” Again, Yoren looked from her to the professor. This time his eyes lingered on the professor, “I think one of you might need to explain this a little more completely to me.” Her teacher bowed his head, “Gladly.” He turned to Iona, “Stay focused. If Master Aporigh will accompany me to the sitting area over there”, he pointed to the side of the room, “then we can discuss it there without masking what you’re trying to uncover.” He gave her an uncharacteristic nod of approval and turned away. As he turned to join the Spymaster, she spoke, “Sir. He, the assassin, wasn’t emotionally involved here. Not like at the warehouse, and not like at the Waterfront. This was business, if you’ll pardon the expression.” Her voice took on a tone of disappointment, “I think we both know what that means.” The professor paused, turned and met her eyes. Without needing to even consider what she’d said, he gave her a nod then continued on to the side of the room. He and Yoren were conversing quietly, more to ensure privacy, not so much out of consideration for her efforts.
Iona tried to focus on the coins again but now her thoughts were scattered. She feared that the investigation was about to be taken away from her and soon she’d be returning to the professor’s lab room, to sit for hours on end, behind a curtain reporting the sensations she detected. His methods had all the subtlety of a mallet driving a tent stake into the ground. Perhaps now he’d grown to appreciate what she could offer, and she might help guide his research. Working cooperatively they might actually contribute something worthwhile. She’d managed to re-connect with the imprint but by then the two men had finished their conversation and an outburst from her teacher broke her concentration, “What do you mean, sir?!” By his tone, he was outraged and on the verge of anger. The other man, Yoren, appeared unaffected and replied in conversational tones that she wasn’t able to hear. The professor’s reactions didn’t change but he’d regained control of his voice. Iona could feel his anger in the form of accumulation of power. Less than a minute passed and Iona was attempting feverishly to focus on the imprinted coins, anything to try to force the teacher’s aura into the background. It filled the room and assaulted her like the chill of a blustery winter day, if one had left a window open. Then, all at once, it rapidly diminished. She looked back over at the two men. The professor now had a defeated look as he turned away from the smaller man. He cast a look at her and then turned to rejoin the other mages. She took a few steps towards them, but Yoren Aporigh interrupted her thoughts and movement, “Wait. They’re returning to the University. If you can do what you describe, and what he”, Yoren jerked a thumb in the direction of her teacher, “says you can do, then you’ll be working for me; at least until we find this assassin.”
Chapter 25
Cooper looked over the drawing that Lash had handed to him, “I guess you won’t be trading your bla
des for a paintbrush any time soon”, Cooper teased. Lash chuckled, “True. But it’s still a good likeness. Both Kolrem and Felis agree.” Cooper put a hand to his forehead, “Great. So just how might I be expected to pick this woman out in a crowd? She could be anybody! She might’ve handed me a loaf of bread in the market earlier today and I’d never know it!” Lash tilted his head to one side as he replied, “You were in the market buying bread today?” Cooper let his breath out in an exasperated huff, “No! But that’s hardly the point.” Lash was grinning as he nodded in agreement, “True, but now you have this picture to go by. You might not be able to pick her out of a crowd going by this drawing, but you’ll certainly be able to eliminate anyone that doesn’t resemble this woman from your suspicions.” Cooper shook his head, “That’s assuming she wouldn’t ever use a disguise of some kind.” Lash chuckled, “Well, nothing so far has suggested she would go to that extent.”
As Cooper left the room and walked down the hall, Aden caught up to him, “Want to see something scary?” Cooper laughed, “Alright, now that you have my attention, how much time will you need to show me?” Aden smiled, “Just a few minutes. I can explain some of the background on the way to the lab.” As they walked, Aden told him that Rayna had brought in a sample of a drug taken during a raid on a warehouse that had been used to hold slaves. Rayna gave the drug to Miss Camilla for analysis who had then enlisted Aden to assist her. As they entered the lab, Aden led him over to a work table. He waved a hand across the assembled beakers, alembics and other glassware. “According to what we’re hearing, the drug’s name is pronounced Aei Pe Iks in its native homeland of Lukasi. Of course, once it reached landfall here, our local populace heard the pronunciation and took it for a spelling, A-P-X and called it “Apex”. It is a dissociative, euphoric and analgesic.” As Aden presented Cooper with the formula work they’d been doing, Cooper interrupted Aden’s narrative, “Dissociative? What’s that?” Aden explained, “Once the drug has taken effect, the person taking it doesn’t feel like what’s going on around them is actually happening to them. Like they’re watching a play or something, not realizing that they’re actually one of the actors.” Aden continued with his explanation, “It’d be the perfect drug for doing surgeries, except that the dissociation lasts too long and its ability to mask pain isn’t full spectrum. Plus, addiction can happen with a single use, so even if we tried using for a good purpose, we could conceivably be creating a raging addict. Since the drug makes the user feel like they aren’t involved, not responsible, they’ll hunt for their next dosage and attack anyone in an attempt to gather enough coin to pay for it.” Cooper’s eyebrows were pulled together and Aden asked, “What is it?” Cooper shook his head, “How would someone act while using this drug?” Aden thought for a moment, “Unpredictable. An addict would probably simply look like a madman.” Cooper described the man who had attacked Kolrem and him earlier in the Waterfront district and Aden acknowledged, “Sounds about right. He probably thought he was an observer right up until he was caught in your netting. Even then he likely couldn’t understand how he’d become entangled.” Cooper paused, then asked a question that had been on his mind since Aden had first started his description, “Has anyone looked into what Aei Pe Iks means in Lukasi language?” Aden nodded, “Mister Ysel says it means “Path to Hell” or “Gate to Hell” or something like that.” Cooper nodded but replied sarcastically, “So with a name like that, someone decided that it’d be a great idea to start importing it?” Aden’s expression hadn’t changed, he simply replied, “Miss Camilla thinks that the drug simply came in on the same boats as the slaves. It might well be that no one in Paleros intended to bring it in. Slavers just saw an opportunity.” Cooper was willing to accept that, then Aden told him the rest, “Miss Camilla also says that Lukasi often uses drugs like these to cause chaos and disruption in coastal villages for a couple of years. Then, once the drugs have done enough damage, the Lukasi raider ships arrive.” Cooper gave Aden his full attention, “Do you mean to say that Lukasi could be considering a raid on Paleros?! Surely not! An attack like that would be answered with the full military might of Rhychevel! King Argravel wouldn’t stop until all of Lukasi was a smoldering ruin.” Aden shrugged, “Well, from what we’ve learned, Lukasi is dozens of islands and they mostly live on boats. But you’re probably right. They’re probably just bringing it in as a way to earn more coin.”
