by Andy Havens
“I think you suspect me because you have two trained snipers across the street from us,” Kendra said in a soft, clear, monotone. “I think you suspect me because their Ways and weapons are trained to basically turn me into an exploding loose meat sandwich when you give some tiny little signal. I think you suspect me because the Way that you’ve set up to give that signal has been set and ready to go ever since you entered my house.”
Ezer sat very still and asked, “If that’s the case, why are you still sitting here talking to me?”
She hunkered down even a little bit lower, looked him in the eye, and actually grinned.
“Because ever since we came back with the snacks, I’ve been sitting in your spot, but low enough that they can’t tell it’s me. Even if they could, they can’t hit me from where they’re positioned.”
A soft, green glow began to form behind Vannia, like a halo made of lime-green light. Kendra and Ezer both saw it, but Kendra shook her head.
“No worries, Doc. Keep the wings down,” and here she glanced significantly back and forth from her friend to the Warden. “Keep them ready… But not for me. I need you to spare Alderaan while I demonstrate the capabilities of this station.”
Vannia frowned, confused for a moment… but then nodded imperceptibly.
Ezer had no idea what the girl was talking about. He’d made some quick calculations, though. She’s right, he thought. I didn’t realize it when I came back with the drinks. But neither of the snipers has a line on her right now.
“Well, that’s very clever of you, Kendra,” he said. “But I no longer suspect your involvement in that plot. If I did, however, I don’t think you – even with the aid of your Chaotic friend here – could escape unharmed. Simply being in the blind spot of my men isn’t enough to protect you from me and my other teams. Or my personal Ways. I have more than a few resources at my disposal.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to protect myself. If you release that little trigger Way of yours – or if I do it myself, which I’m pretty sure I can do – your snipers will both shoot you. I’d guess that whatever it is that they’ve got aimed at the house… it might be fatal to you, too. Right? Or at least very inconvenient?”
Ezer chuckled. “Why would my own men shoot me? They’re some of the most highly trained soldiers in the Domains. Decades of experience. Centuries. As loyal to me as a child is to a father.”
Kendra made a “tsk, tsk” noise, shaking her head. “There’s your answer: that’s how I killed Rain.”
“What? How?”
“Arrogance.”
Ezer felt something //change// in the Way he was using to signal his men.
He had just enough time to think, That should not be possible, when a flurry of green feathers flashed before his eyes, the front window of the house exploded and something hit him, hard, in his chest and then again in his head.
* * * * *
Malls. Is this what mankind, the builder of pyramids and rockets to the moon, has come to?
If Charlous had to spend too much more time in malls he was going to ask for a change of assignment.
Hunting prey through the back alleys of noisy, dirty, ancient cities is one thing, he thought. Or spending weeks in a ghillie suit beneath a blanket of turf. But if I have to listen to one more Muzak version of a pop-rock “favorite” while loitering in front of a Cinnabon, I’m going to lose my shit.
Charlous was something of an anomaly. He’d converted from Earth to Increase in the late 1800’s after a few centuries of, well… non-compliance with his former House. The ways of Mundanes fascinated him, and that made him less than popular with the higher powers in Earth. Other than making use of tags the same way that Mundanes made use of livestock, most of the Ways of Earth had little or nothing to do with anyone or anything outside the Domain itself. Charlous was intrigued by the Narrow Roads, by studies of Mundane history and technology he’d read in the Library, and by the music and art and theater of people who, without access to the Ways, still managed to create great beauty and find disturbing insights.
While he’d had these ideas as a minor Reckoner of Earth for many decades, the breaking point with his former House had come during the Dark Ages, when the Black Death had gripped much of the Western World in its terrible claws. He watched as half the men, women and children across great cities and fertile farming provinces alike were wiped out. They sickened and died or didn’t die and wept and raged and he was powerless to do anything to help the strange, short-lived people he’d come to cherish.
With all the power of the Ways, none could stop the plague. Not that many Reckoners cared. It was a purely a Mundane affliction.
So he’d “walked the earth,” as one of his favorite TV shows, “Kung Fu,” had put it. He no longer visited the Places of Power. He did not attend family gatherings or any of the Great Rites. He ignored messages left for him at familiar crossroads. He avoided even the Sanctuaries, as he feared bumping into his kin and being asked hard questions that he didn’t have answers for.
Until he’d met Morgan White, Master Scout in the Domain of Increase.
Charlous had been in North America for the first time in his long life, admiring the railways that had recently begun snaking across that great continent. The giant steam locomotives reminded him of the Narrow Roads, but with more… passion. They were like great, beating hearts and powerful lungs. They roared and rushed back and forth, carrying people and cargo as if on the back of a long, hollow dragon. He learned everything he could about the trains, eventually helping to build and drive them himself.
He was there when Leland Stanford drove the Golden Spike, connecting the Central Pacific and Union Pacific at Promontory Summit in the Utah Territory. As that last spike was hammered down he felt something very much like the completion of a Way grip the countryside. A great wave of power seemed to emanate from the simple, steel hammer. A wave of…
Potential, Charlous had thought at the time. A new power being born.
In the Mundane world, he was known as Charles Burton. “Charlie” to his friends. He was a well-regarded rail enthusiast, willing to do whatever work was available. He had enough money to travel to wherever the current locomotive action was, and there were more than enough Mundanes with the same interests to make his presence entirely unremarkable.
Something between a hobby, a job and an addiction, the rails drew him like no other tool or engine ever had before.
He’d ridden horses across countless leagues, in hundreds of battles. He loved to ride and he loved to care for his horses. But the iron horse was different. He watched, over just a few decades, as they went from a curiosity and rich man’s pastime to something that would clearly change the way humanity operated. Many Mundanes, even among those who financed and built the railways, couldn’t see their potential.
Charlous did. And so did Morgan.
The only two Reckoners in a seedy bar in a seedy railroad town in Nevada, they’d struck up a conversation, compared notes, and formed a friendship. Morgan wasn’t like the Children of Earth that Charlous had known his whole life. He asked questions, tried out creative solutions and went actively searching for more questions. He had vision. He wanted more.
Which is, I guess, the whole point of Increase, Charlous had thought at one point. But, simultaneously, he’d realized something about himself.
I want more, too.
The ceremony that parted him from Earth had been uncomfortable. Not physically painful, per se. But like losing a sense that he hadn’t realized you could lose. He’d emerged from the week-long vigil feeling shaky and vulnerable, naked in a way he’d never experienced before.
But Morgan was there to guide him along the road of Increase. Charlous had acclimatized to his adopted House’s Ways very quickly, learning to see the world as they did and finding it much more natural to him than his original Domain.
He knew that he owed the speed and ease of his transition to Morgan’s help. His new friend was with him for years,
helping him along even as he expanded his own strengths and influence. Charlous watched and assisted as Morgan rose up in the ranks of Increase. Unlike other Houses, the means and measures of advancement within Increase were very specific and explicitly defined. If you wanted more responsibility and authority, you could have it. Just do these things. If you wanted to be an “individual contributor,” working alone on projects that interested you particularly, same thing: here’s the blueprint, have at it. If your strength was as a helper or guard, craftsman or Waymaker, you didn’t have to wonder what it took to excel; there was a plan and a person to report to. A Chief of Section, a Head of Detail, a Senior Manager, Director or General.
All the way up to Gareth Ezer himself, the Fifth and Current Warden of Increase. The Reckoner who had created the Narrow Roads, established the modern Sanctuaries and secured the rules that governed the treatment of “Mundane affiliates,” more commonly referred to as “tags.”
By the time Morgan had reached the Second Circle of Increase – part of the team that advised Ezer directly – Charlous was his most trusted confidant, guard, point-man and all-around go-to-guy. When Morgan wanted something done, he simply outlined the goals for Charlous and got out of his way.
Within the Second Circle, Morgan’s major interest had moved on from trains and transportation to finance. Lots of large scale projects – both Mundane and within the Domain – required many diverse and expensive resources. More than any other person in Increase, Morgan White became known as the Reckoner who could find funding for whatever you needed. He eventually became, for all intents and purposes, Ezer’s personal banker, as well. Trusted with the financial strings that held the House together, Morgan was viewed by many as a potential replacement for Gareth should the need arise. Ezer himself had made comments to that effect, joking once that, “The only reason Morgan keeps me around is that I’m a better front-man for the organization.”
Sipping a fruit smoothie and watching as Dr. Lyonne popped in and out of various retail stores, Charlous reflected on the night when Ezer had made that comment. It had been at one of the Warden’s renowned, invitation-only parties. Famous Mundanes mixed with Reckoners from all Houses. Incredible displays of wealth and talent, gifts exchanged, favors granted. The kind of evening that only Increase could arrange and that left all the guests feeling stronger, better and more confident than ever.
The night those bastards from Earth and Blood framed Morgan, Charlous thought.
Sasha Lyonne was heading toward the exit and so he followed, barely using any spy- or stealth-craft at all. She wasn’t a player, not in any sense of the word that mattered to him. She knew a few things and a few people. He was waiting to see if any of those people were on the list that Ezer and he had been assiduously building and monitoring for more than ten years now.
What I ask you to do is perilously close to a breach of the Law, Ezer had told him. What we attempt isn’t personal. It can’t be resolved through vendetta. When we move, it will be against the leaders and Ways of two other Domains. And we must have evidence that is completely and utterly unshakable.
Dr. Lyonne got into her car and Charlous followed her in his. For many other missions like this, he’d have a team. They’d use cut-outs and radios, several chase and follow cars, a variety of signals and Ways. Not necessary with this one. She went about her life as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Lots of malls, lots of friends in coffee shops, lots of jogging.
Under normal circumstances he would have considered the last few days a nice break. Low stress. A single, Mundane target. An easy assignment. But ever since the unexpected death of Rain Vernon, things had gotten very weird very quickly.
Like many powerful Reckoners, Rain had held his cards close to his vest and had maintained personal control over most of his activities. It was impossible, in many cases, to tell whom he had included in which plans and plots. Most of what he did, of course, was easily traced to legitimate House business. Around the world, there were probably two-dozen Earth Reckoners of Rain’s status. He was regularly in touch with most of them for a variety of reasons. Which made it hard to tell which actions were simply ongoing, centuries-long House matters, and which were related to the plot that he and Ezer had uncovered.
What complicated the operation even more was that it was very hard for a Reckoner from any one House to tell what might be odd or unusual for another. Which was why Ezer had brought Charlous into the fold after discovering that the conspiracy involved Earth.
“Perhaps, my friend,” he’d said, “You will have unique insights into our quest.”
Unstated between them was the other reason. Perhaps you will be able to revenge yourself on the ones who dishonored your friend and mentor. The ones who convinced you to betray him as part of their lie.
Charlous was not a particularly violent man. But he deeply resented that Kendra had killed Rain Vernon. Because he’d planned a variety of truly unpleasant ways to accomplish that goal himself.
Driving back into the downtown area behind Dr. Lyonne, he thought, There will be others. The Earth Masters whose handprints are all over this thing. And the Bloodclan Chiefs and their soldiers. Plenty of targets, once we have enough evidence to move this treason into the open.
They took a couple turns through back streets until Sasha parked in a small lot that backed up onto a quaint little gallery. Charlous found a spot at a meter a block further down.
They were in a trendy part of downtown where both locals and tourists poked into small shops that carried everything from art glass to handmade paper, high-end costumes and herbal remedies. There were little cafés and street musicians and a variety of local fairs and events throughout the year. Two alleys on either side of the main drag had been closed to vehicle traffic to create a walking space and provide more room for kiosks and buskers. For four blocks, it was an outdoor, divided pedestrian mall, and the city had been talking about building elevated walkways or an underground tunnel or something for years. It was a fun idea, but for the time being, the crosswalks were choked with pedestrians and drivers had to slow way down to avoid the jaywalkers trotting across the main drag all the time.
It was Friday night, just after work, so the streets were mobbed already.
It’ll be even worse in a couple hours, Charlous thought. Or better, he added to himself with a grin. There’s fun to be had in a crowd.
He watched as Dr. Lyonne picked her way down Tinker’s Alley, the nearest pedestrian walkway. It was mostly clothes and jewelry and toys and touristy collectibles. A few food carts. One decent sized bar, the Tin Man, and a barbershop with a patio that doubled as a stage for small jazz and folk bands.
Cutting across the main street, Sasha maneuvered through the crowd and down a short, narrow tunnel that connected to the other pedestrian mall, Cooper’s Alley, which was more about food and drink. There was an open-air market with all kinds of fresh and fancy fruits and vegetables, most locally grown. Several brew pubs served local ales, two famously competitive ice-cream shops waged amicable war and a bakery served what, to Charlous’ taste, was the best shortbread in the world.
Maybe I can grab a chunk if she stops long enough to eat a meal, he thought.
He wasn’t sure following the Mundane doctor was the best use of his time. But his years “walking the earth” among them made him more attuned to their cycles and moods. Both he and Ezer knew that he might spot something other Reckoners wouldn’t.
And Lyonne was one of Rain Vernon’s only contacts that wouldn’t have any Ways guiding or protecting her.
She doesn’t know how vulnerable she is, he thought, watching the elegant, pretty woman pick through a charmingly folksy crate of hot peppers. The only thing keeping her alive is that she’s bait.
As she sat down at a small, wrought-iron table in front of a little bistro, Charlous looked up the street at the bakery and tried to gauge the crowd, the distance to his mark, his line of sight and whether or not it was worth it to make a quick dash for
some shortbread.
When he looked back at her, though, there was another person at her table. His heart skipped a beat and he had to stop and check his initial suspicion against a Way of Memory he’d purchased from Sight to use when hunting someone he hadn’t met.
Because recognizing a Reckoner wasn’t just about matching a description. Many Reckoners could utilize Ways that concealed or altered appearance. It was more a kind of fingerprint. A combination of sights, sounds, even smells and gestures and the collected manners in which someone moved through the Ways.
It wasn’t a cheap tool, and it wasn’t an easy one to set up. But once you had gathered enough material from enough sources, it provided a nearly foolproof method of identifying someone who might be working very hard not to be identified.
Son of a bitch, Charlous thought. Lyonne is having dinner with Damon Mohz.
Mohz wasn’t just on the list that he and Ezer had been compiling. He was on top of the list along with three other Earth Lords. The Warden suspected that those four had first-hand, potentially verifiable involvement in the plot that had cost Charlous his best friend. More importantly, if unchecked, the plot could cost him his adopted House and home.
Ezer had been slowly gathering evidence against Vernon. Over the course of years he’d personally convinced the Gardener that he believed the lie that had set Ezer against Morgan White and had driven a wedge between Increase and Release. The Warden had taken Rain into a false confidence, building up a relationship that he believed, over time, would cause the Earth Lord to expose himself and his part in the treason. Or at least lead them even closer to its heart.
According to what the Warden had told Charlous, they’d been very close to doing just that.
Then Kendra turned Vernon’s head into a cloud of expanding red mist.
Which was not a contingency they’d planned for. A Reckoner of Rain’s age and power? No. He might be vulnerable to many plots, but not a direct assault. Not after having lived so many, many centuries. Not with his resources and underlings and highly practiced Ways.
