by Brian Keller
Not a word was uttered until they reached the University. Her former professor was the first to speak, “I suppose I should thank you for inviting me along. I sincerely hope you’re not wasting my time.” He was speaking to Yoren, but he was looking at her. Iona nodded her head in deference but did not speak. Yoren replied, “I know my message was brief. We’ve arranged for the young, Gifted man” He turned to Iona before he continued, “Cooper is his name, I’m told, to meet with us, well, with me to be precise. We’re meeting in the Waterfront, near Batter’s Field, and he thinks we believe his story about being a common Waterfront kid. He expects me but he doesn’t know about any of you, so stay out of sight until he shows himself. If we can’t capture him, we need to contain him for as long as possible.” He centered his gaze on the professor, “There is more at stake here tonight than merely capturing one of the Gifted. If you are not prepared to accept that now, I’ll leave you here.” The professor bristled and appeared prepared to confront the Spymaster. The soldiers apparently recognized the body language and shifted their position enough to make the plates of their armor clatter lightly. It lacked subtlety but the message was clear. The professor snarled, “It appears that you intend to thwart me yet again. You are always careful to have supporters around every time we meet like this, aren’t you?” Yoren shrugged, “It isn’t often that I am away from the Palace without ‘supporters’, as you call them. In any case, the point is moot. Do you wish to come along, or would you prefer to remain behind?” The professor joined the group of mages and elected to stand near Emmit. Iona searched the faces of those in attendance, looking for Felis. He was not among them.
As they walked northeast, toward the Bridges, Wen matched stride with Iona and greeted her as if they were friends who’d been apart for months. Wen spoke in a confiding tone, “It’s been awhile. How have you been?” Iona spoke clearly, her tone was cold, “I’ve not spoken to anyone about your Talent. I understand the value of keeping secrets, despite the fact that you were quick to reveal things I told you.” Wen started to speak, “I’m sorry abo-” Iona interrupted her, “Don’t. I’m not interested. You were worried that you might become the next lab rat, so you found a way to keep the attention on me. Nothing more to say.”
When they reached the North Bridge, Yoren gave the soldiers their specific instructions then returned to the cluster of mages, “I’ll ask that you all stay behind me, starting now. He thinks he’s fooled me and that I’m coming to meet him so I can recruit him.” Iona asked the question she’d been asking herself since they’d left the Palace, “So what does he hope to gain from this meeting?” The Spymaster shrugged, “My life, I assume. Retribution. What else could he be seeking?” He faced the rest of them, “Stay behind, but when it’s time to move in, please move quickly.” The Professor raised his hands in front of himself and focused his attention. The space between his hands began to glow and then bright sparks began to jump from one hand to the other. Soon the space between his hands was crackling with energy. Iona could feel that he was almost fully exercising his Talent but the energy would continue to build for as long as he could maintain it. The professor looked at the Spymaster and spoke in a menacing tone, “If I get close enough, I can kill with a single touch.” Yoren turned to her and asked, “How close does he need to be?” Iona shrugged, “He just told you, sir. He needs to be able to touch the person. He can’t throw lightning. There’s no one I know of that could.” Yoren spoke to the professor, “I’ll say it again. We want him alive.” He took a breath and continued, “But if it looks like it will come down to only one of us surviving, hit him with everything you’ve got.”
*****
Chapter 20
Cooper watched the Spymaster approach the meeting place. At first he appeared sure, confident; but his body language spoke clearly. Every step was a process of several start-stop movements. His body shifted slightly from side to side as he walked, allowing him to sweep his eyes across the open space.
Cooper scanned the surrounding area. The fact that the Spymaster appeared alone only served to make him more suspicious. He thought, “There’s no way he’d come here alone. Not even to meet with a kid. Where are the rest of them?” He saw a flicker of movement to the south and focused on it, looking slightly to the side since, at night, looking directly at something could cause it to disappear from one’s field of vision. He could see a few shadowy figures but no sounds of armor.
He now regretted selecting a wide, open space for a meeting. He’d wanted the Spymaster to be completely visible, but in order to close the distance, Cooper would have to accept the same vulnerability. “I should’ve brought help” he thought. He knew that the Spymaster didn’t have anyone near him. He’d have noticed anyone moving around on this side of the open area. He slowly worked his way to the edge of the roof and dropped to the ground. He stepped to the corner of the building and faced the man in the vacant lot and called out, “I’m here. Why'd ye wanna see me?” In response to his voice, Yoren turned and tried to focus on him in the darkness. Yoren took a step toward him, “You seem very good at finding the men who are selling drugs. Wouldn’t you like to earn some coin for your information?” Yoren took another step and then stopped and looked around. “Why don’t you step over here and we can discuss it? Or better yet, come with me to the Palace. I can have such a meal prepared for you that you wouldn’t believe and we can talk about it while you eat.” Cooper started to step out into the open, then appeared to think better of it and backed into the shadows again, “Nah, sir. I think I can hear ya jes’ fine from here. How much’ll ye pay? Fer information? I know ‘bout another place, but I ain’t gonna jes’ yell it out.” The Spymaster took another half step in his direction but appeared unwilling to come closer. He either suspected something or was simply being cautious. Yoren replied, “I’d agree that shouting it out wouldn’t be right. Besides, the whole purpose for meeting here at night is so people wouldn’t know you were supplying information, right? So come over here and we’ll settle on terms for your employment.” Cooper resisted, “How do I know that yer here alone, sir? Ya could be plannin’ ta grab me an’ make me talk fer free. I’ll talk wi’ ya, but not out there.” Cooper was thinking, “Just a couple more steps, that’s all I want. Just enough to make it a challenge for a crossbowman.” Yoren replied, “So we’re negotiating then? Why don’t we meet halfway?” Cooper stepped out from the corner, “Awright. That’s fair.” He took a step forward and the Spymaster matched him stride for stride.
The clouds following this evening’s rain shower had continued to drift cross the sky. They chose this moment to part enough to allow moonlight to stream through. They’d taken six steps when Yoren stopped and quietly spoke, “Your clothes.” Cooper rolled his shoulders, waiting for the man to realize his position. The Spymaster quickly drew his sword, “Since you’ve dropped your charade, it’s only fitting that I should do the same.” With that exclamation the Spymaster surged forward. His Manifested speed was impressive. Cooper was distracted for a moment by the Spymaster’s words, “Did he say ‘charade’? He came here knowing I’m not a Waterfront kid wanting to inform for him?” A flurry of movement from the south extended his distraction. Apparently drawing his sword was the signal for everyone to react. He had to admit, it would be a difficult signal to misinterpret.
He quickly drew his own twin blades and met the man’s charge. The Spymaster’s sword was narrow, not as heavy as a sword carried by a soldier of the Watch. Still, it was double edged and heavier than the rapier he had taken from Jarell. It would require more strength and a solid body position to fully block a determined strike but Cooper didn’t intend to let the fight last long. He parried a thrust and stepped along the blade to get in close to strike a blow of his own. The point of his blade was deflected when it struck the metal plates concealed beneath the tunic over the Spymaster’s chest. Cooper received a deep cut to the thick, boiled leather armor on his left shoulder, just below the collar, as he recovered from his failed strike. He
shifted his position so he could keep the area to the south in his field of view. In the newly-revealed moonlight he thought he counted at least a half dozen people running into the open space. Cooper reached out and tapped into the energy that remained after the recent storm and one of the people, a woman, shouted a warning, “Sir! Look out!” He felt the energy surge into him and everything seemed to slow down. He lashed out with a three strike combination intended to overwhelm the sword’s ability to block. His final strike scored deeply to the underside of Aporigh’s left arm, just down from the shoulder. He remembered how Mister Skran’s lessons reinforced the knowledge from Miss Camilla’s Anatomy classes, “Arteries run tight against the shafts of long bones, where they’re best protected”, and gave his blade a turn as he struck the bone and raked his blade across it. Cooper knew that he’d slashed the artery when blood came flooding down, staining the Spymaster’s tunic and flowing down his arm. The Spymaster cried out in alarm, pain, and anger and swung his sword wildly, more to put space between them than an actual attempt to strike. Cooper nearly captured the man’s sword with the blade in his left hand but Aporigh withdrew before Cooper could attempt to disarm the man. Cooper stole a quick glance to assess whatever threat these other people posed to him. He recognized the woman who’d shouted, though he’d never seen her before. She was the woman from the picture Lash had drawn, she had to be. The same woman that Kolrem could have killed on the Waterfront. The Hunter. He also recognized the healer. He was the healer he’d hired years ago to cure Eva’s sickness, and later her family had hired the same man to heal him after he’d received a beating from Egil. A beating that should’ve resulted in his death. Despite the slashed artery, a healer of his ability might still save Aporigh’s life. He needed to inflict more damage, but he also needed to escape quickly before the mages could effectively mount their response, whatever that might be. They’d been brought here for a reason, after all.
The Spymaster was backing away, trying to tuck his left arm in a futile attempt to staunch the blood flow. Cooper noticed one of the other females rushing toward the oldest man in the group. She was fast, and it looked like she was preparing to grab the man, or push him. The old man seemed to be holding some glowing object in his hands. Cooper was still Channeling energy, it felt like he was riding on waves of it, but circumstances around him were in danger of escaping his control. These people were obviously mages and they likely had weapons and abilities beyond his understanding. For all he knew, they could all be Hunters. He needed to finish this quickly and get away. If the Spymaster was wearing metal plates, then his strikes would need to be where he could see there was no armor. He transferred his right hand blade so he was gripping both blades in his left hand. He leaped at the Spymaster and as he did so, he grasped his chain knife and flung it underhand directly at the Spymaster’s throat. Aporigh’s eyes grew wide. He knew some kind of attack was coming but didn’t know the nature of it until almost too late. He had time to discern that an object was being thrown, and time enough to turn his head. Instead of the chain knife striking the exposed windpipe, veins and arteries, the knife pierced the muscles in the side of the man’s neck and bit in deeply. Cooper knew that this was not the lethal blow he needed. Now he would need to use the chain knife to pull the Spymaster off balance and slash a blade across his throat. He might need to drop one of the blades from his left hand to accomplish that. He was still in mid-leap when the female grabbed the oldest man and yelled, “Strike!” Suddenly a blinding flash of power erupted from the old man and Cooper felt something similar to heat strike him on his right side. All the hair on his body felt like it was standing straight out and his vision went white. “Holy shit!!” he thought, “Have they killed me?!” The energy that he felt rush through him burned like molten steel, but faster than a blink of an eye it was gone. He felt it enter through his right side, rip through his body and exit his right hand. His vision returned immediately. Before his feet touched the ground, he’d seen Aporigh’s eyes go dull as the man’s body stiffened and then crumpled. Cooper couldn’t even feel the fingers on his right hand, but he could see that he still held the chain. He pulled on it. As Cooper yanked his chain knife free, he knew the Spymaster was already dead. How he’d been killed was something he didn’t care to stay long enough to learn. His thoughts felt scattered. Disorganized. But he remembered he needed to leave his message with the Spymaster and dropped the chain knife, letting it fall to the ground. It took longer than it should have to fumble with insensate fingers and find the tube. When he finally dropped the Courier tube, he could hear the mages trying to organize themselves. He focused his remaining energy to his legs and scrambled out of the open area as quickly as his legs could carry him, dragging his chain knife unceremoniously behind him for several steps until he gathered up the first few feet of the chain. He was sure he’d already spent this night’s allotment of luck, if there was such a thing. He just needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else, quickly. For all he knew, the mages were already preparing a second magical strike.
*****
Iona rushed to the body of her fallen employer. Emmit arrived well before her and had knelt down. By the time she got there, Emmit was already rising back to his feet. He didn’t speak. He merely shook his head and placed a consoling hand on her shoulder as she drew alongside him. Her senses were still on fire; more from the power of the blinding arc that had flashed across the vacant lot, ultimately killing Yoren, than from their collective Talent usage. That sensation had struck her all the harder since she’d opened herself up in order to absorb as much information as she could while Cooper was Channeling.
The professor appeared dumbstruck, looking from Wen, to Yoren, to Iona and back to Wen. His facial expressions running the gamut of amazement, uncertainty, expectation, and curiosity; in that order. If circumstances were different, she might even find humor in the fact that he revealed so much of his thoughts while not saying a word. It ran contradictory to everything she knew about the man.
Iona knelt and collected the Courier tube, feeling the tingle that she knew she would from the contact. The professor managed to gather his wits and he rushed off in the direction Cooper had run. No one followed him. The man paused when he reached the first building, past the edge of the vacant lot, and he turned to face the others, “Well?! Let’s go after him!” He turned to Iona and bellowed, “You’re a Hunter! Where is he?! Lead me to him!” The other mages didn’t move. Most of them were staring at Wen. For her part, Wen looked uncomfortable and was trying to give the appearance of being as small as she could manage. Iona replied to the professor in a clear voice, “Sir, you should certainly know by now that it doesn’t work that way. Besides, considering what we’ve just witnessed, what do you really believe would happen if you caught up with him? Anyway, my Talent doesn’t grant me speed and Cooper has stopped Channeling.” She held up the copper tube, “His ‘signature’ ends here.”
A look of frustration and fury crossed the professor’s face and he surged toward her. She had felt him build his power and knew he was coming. Her response was prepared and as her power built up, the residual moisture in the air made the space between them become foggy. As the professor entered the chill, he stopped, “You dare?!” He glanced down to the corpse at her feet and a cruel smile crossed his face, “The Spymaster is dead. You’re mine again.” Iona felt a moment of panic as she lowered the tube she had raised, the label catching her notice. A burst of relief pierced the cloud of dread but not enough to make her smile. She replied, “In truth, sir, I have been in the employ of the Prince. Yoren Aporigh has been my boss, my supervisor, my keeper. If you wish to dispute this, you may accompany me now as I report the death of the Royal Spymaster and deliver this message. It’s addressed to the Prince.”
The professor’s face went dark and he sputtered, “You know I can’t very well arrive unannounced unless I’ve been summoned!” Iona smiled and bluffed, “I can announce you…after I’ve delivered this message.” The professor had already tu
rned his attention to Wendalia, demanding, “What exactly did you do to me?! I’ve never had the power to throw lightning before!” Wen’s expression was a mix of regret and dread. Her hesitation brought an angry outburst from the professor, eager to intimidate someone so he could feel powerful, “Well?! Answer me!” Wen looked even more uncomfortable but she didn’t reply. The professor wheeled back to face Iona, “Can you explain it?” Iona shrugged, “She transferred much of her energy to you. A significant amount, as I’m sure you noticed. It traveled through you, after all.” She had tried to avoid sounding smug, and almost succeeded.
The professor looked from one to the other of them and back, accompanied by rapid series of questions. To Iona, “How? Did you know she could do this?” To Wen, “You had to know you could do this. How else would you know to try? You’ve concealed this? For how long?” Before Wen could even form any reply, he’d turned back to Iona, “How long have you known?” Wen appeared relieved that his withering glare was no longer directed at her. Iona’s reply was a little more glib than she intended, but only a little, “Known? I learned it tonight. Same as you.” Iona arched an eyebrow and glanced at Wendalia, “But I’ve always sensed something different about her Talent. I wondered if it might be something like this but it was never my place to speculate, or present my own opinions and observations…as you were always so fond of reminding me.” Despite the darkness, she could see the blood vessels at the professor’s temples actually pulsing, but she felt no accumulation of power in response to his growing rage. He turned on his heel, twirling his cape as he spun. He’d taken a step before he spoke, “If the trail is cold then we’re going back to the University! All of you.” He didn’t turn to face Iona, instead he spoke over his shoulder, malice dripping from his voice like syrup, “I’m sure you’ll have no difficulties managing your own way back, but what is to be done with the corpse?” The clomping of armored boots was audible to the south and east, and it grew louder by the second. Iona smiled, “Yes, sir. I believe I hear my escort now. I’m sure we’ll find a way to manage.”
