by CM Raymond
The sound of the door clanging open caused him to sit up straight. A beautiful woman dressed in all black to match her jet-black hair stood in front of his cell.
“Who are you?” he asked, easing as far back in the cot as he could.
“Don’t worry, precious. Just think of me as your new babysitter. Now, get off your ass and come along with Nanny,” Alexandra said as she unleashed the magitech locks and ripped open the door. “You don’t want to say no. Otherwise you may get a spanking.” Her perfectly straight teeth shined in the magitech lighting.
“Elon,” Gregory muttered, staying where he sat. “I need to see Elon.”
She laughed. “Soon enough, precious. Daddy dearest is busy right now, but you’ll see him before it’s over. I promise. Now—” the sweetness in her voice turned to broken glass “—get moving.”
Gregory stood. Giving the woman the widest berth possible in the confined cell, he stepped around her and headed out into the hallway
Her high heels clicked their way down the hall. “Turn right,” she called.
Gregory’s stomach churned, and he considered making a break for it. Failure to see his father hadn’t even been on his list of possible outcomes. Now, he only hoped he got a chance to appeal to Elon. If not, he’d be a goner. Not only would he not stop the madness, but his final act in the world would be contributing to the amphoralds that powered the war machine.
“In there,” she muttered, pointing at a metal door.
He turned the knob and pushed through into the largest room he’d ever seen. Stone walls stretched three-stories high and were supported by enormous girders that must have been raised by magic. The footprint stretched out nearly as long as the Capitol Lawn. He stood in the largest structure inside the walls of Arcadia.
While the room impressed, the thing that was truly breathtaking was the giant ship taking up residence. Although his father’s blueprints had dimensions scrawled throughout, the monster was larger than he could have ever imagined. It filled a substantial portion of the room, its wings spanning out nearly touching the walls on either side.
Men with magitech cuffs were moving around beside it, putting on the perfecting touches. The body work on the ship was exquisite. He could see the cockpit and the wings that would control the ship’s movement. But his eyes wandered to the thing that most interested him. Up underneath the behemoth clung the artifact that Julianne had brought back from the Frozen North. A half dozen engineers busied themselves using magitech torches to weld the device to the underbelly, while others rushed around, connecting what looked like long strands of rope. He realized that it was the wire through which the amphorald power would run to fuel the device.
A hand pushed him from behind. “Pretty much your wet dream, Brainiac. What do you say we get a closer look?”
Without giving him time to respond, Alexandra shoved him toward a stairway leading to the catwalk that circled the room. He climbed the last step; the plank flexed beneath his feet. Gregory looked down to the factory floor two stories below and then continued to the right. He knew where he was going and what his job would be when he got there.
Damn it, where is he? Gregory thought.
The possibility of not finding his father before it was too late hadn’t crossed his mind. One of many weaknesses in this plan, this one might turn deadly.
“My father? I wanted to tell him about the Scholars’ Program,” Gregory said with a grin. He hoped that his acting was better than his physical magic.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw the woman smile. “I’m sure you’ll see him eventually, but an old friend of yours needs a hand first.”
The walkway led into the ship, and Gregory walked down a narrow corridor. A strong blue light shone on the other end. Alexandra was leading him right toward it. Gregory brought up the ship design in his mind and traced their path. He knew where she was taking him.
As he entered the engine room, it took Gregory’s eyes a second to adjust. He saw two men with parchment on clipboards taking notes as they observed the magitech core. It was massive, larger than a horse cart, and it contained more than enough energy to power the ship.
Gregory’s eyes grew wide when he realized that the technicians weren’t inspecting the amphoralds. Instead, they were taking in the battered and broken form of a young magic user. Clifford, a guy who had entered the Academy a year earlier, was a physically strong kid, who was good at magic. He grew up a few houses away from Gregory in the Quarter. While they weren’t best friends, he and Gregory were friendly enough.
Nausea took over as he inspected Cliff’s face. It was bloodless and gaunt. Although only one year older than Gregory, he looked like he had aged three decades. His hair had turned shock white, and his once strong body was withered and frail. Gregory had a loose idea of what they were doing with the young magicians, but seeing it firsthand made his knees go wobbly.
His reaction was part act to keep up his deception, but mostly an honest response. “What the hell have you—”
Alexandra struck him with an open hand across the side of his head. His ears rang. “Shut the hell up.” Then she turned to the technicians and interrupted their work. “Got another one. He’s all yours.”
She shoved Gregory toward them. Before he could respond, one of the techs had already shackled him and was moving him toward the machine as the other removed Clifford’s lifeless body and dragged it away.
“Don’t struggle, Gregory,” the man said as he spun the kid toward the machine.
“You know who I—” A punch to the gut interrupted his question.
“Of course, I do. Your dad’s going to be so proud.” The tech grinned as he strapped Gregory to the machine. “This won’t hurt… much.”
The man threw a switch, and a pain greater than anything Gregory had ever felt rushed through his body. Exhaustion overtook him, and he tried to sag to the ground—the magitech cuffs holding his body upright. In his pain, he looked up into the face of a man standing next to him.
It was the face of his father, and it was the last thing Gregory saw before losing consciousness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Whether by death or victory, Julianne would soon lose the image of Stellan that she had to maintain day after day. The thought filled her with glee. Holding the image exhausted her mentally, and the work of acting like the brutish Captain of the Guard drained her emotionally. She had done much over the past month—things that a year of meditation wouldn’t wipe away from her consciousness. She only hoped her charade was worth the cost.
She wound through the city streets away from the mansion. With most of the men gone to the factory, mostly women and children made up the crowd. A few nobles were mixed in, but she was too near the Boulevard for there to be many of them.
People stumbled over themselves to get out of her way as if Stellan would strike them dead just by looking in their direction. The Captain was a man of strength and had a reputation for having a short fuse. The once-docile mystic found it nearly impossible to replicate his volatility at first, but it was now becoming a habit.
“Not even going to say hello?”
Julianne jerked her head to the right to find Sapphire, Stellan’s high-end prostitute leaning against a wall with her foot up on a bench. Her position was suitable for showing off the goods, and her tight blue dress left little to the imagination.
Although she’d never considered women romantically, she had no problem understanding precisely why men found Sapphire so alluring. Bright red, full lips stood out on her painted, pale face. Deep, almond shaped eyes pierced anyone she looked at. Even Julianne’s pulse quickened when the professional lover looked at her.
“Not now,” Julianne grunted.
“Come on, baby.” She stuck out her big bottom lip like a child. She cooed, “I’m lonely, and I need Daddy to keep me company.”
The mystic pushed past, keeping her eyes ahead. If nothing else, Sapphire was determined to get back on Stellan’s payroll. Julianne figure
d they must have had quite a relationship before his untimely death. For the most part, the Captain had few relationships outside of work. If it weren’t for Sapphire, Julianne would have had little issue playing the part outside of work hours.
“Not so fast, honey. I’m not through with you,” Sapphire said once Julianne had passed.
Julianne turned and saw the woman standing with a magitech blaster in her hand. Her almond eyes narrowed and a smile formed on her face.
Julianne raised her hands and laughed. “Funny way to land a customer in bed, Sapphire. I’ll be happy to oblige your game, just not right now. I’m in a hurry.”
“Drop the act, traitor,” Sapphire sneered. “I don’t know what happened to you out in the Heights, and frankly, I don’t really give a shit. I’m making more money bringing you in than I ever did in bed with you.”
Julianne’s mind raced. She couldn’t place how she got made, and if they really were on to her, or if this was just some trick to test Stellan. She laughed Stellan’s gruff laugh again. “OK, enough with the foreplay. I told you I’m in a hurry. You don’t want to piss me off.”
Sapphire shook her head. “Better to be pissed off than pissed on, sweetie… though, not all my customers think that. Now, get on your knees. I wouldn’t want my new friends to have to hurt you.”
Julianne sense two more bodies behind her. This was no test. Somehow, she had been made.
Julianne sighed. Then looked up at Sapphire. “You do know that Stellan was a highly-trained magic user, right? One of the deadliest people in the city.”
Sapphire cocked her head to the side. “What of it? You’re outnumbered three to one. You think you could beat those odds, Stellan?”
“Stellan couldn’t, but I’m not Stellan. I’m far more dangerous.”
Julianne threw her arms down to her side, the way fire wielding magic users do. Sapphire reacted instantly, firing at her target. But the blast went straight through the image of Stellan, killing the Guard on the other side.
Sapphire’s eyes went wide as the image of Stellan flickered and disappeared. There, in its place was a beautiful young woman in a simple robe, kneeling on the ground—her eyes were white like stars.
“What the hell!” Sapphire screamed as she raised her gun to shoot again. “Kill that bitch!”
But Julianne was quicker with her tongue than Sapphire was on her draw. The mystic shouted a strange word, and suddenly Sapphire couldn’t breathe—at least she thought so. She fell to the ground choking.
The remaining Guard was slow to move, confused by what he saw taking place. Julianne took advantage of his weakness. She charged the Guard, whispering under her breath as she ran. Her face took on the likeness of lycanthrope, and the poor man cowered in fear. Julianne grabbed the gun from him and cracked him over the side of the head with its barrel. He dropped to the ground, unconscious and dreaming terrible dreams.
As Julianne turned to leave, a magitech blast ripped through her shoulder. She screamed in pain as she fell to the ground.
Sapphire slowly walked over to her, gun raised. “I can handle a little choking—some of my best paying customers enjoy it. I had no idea you were one of those damn mystics. Should have guessed it after that night you gave me—Stellan was never that good.”
The woman looked over Julianne’s body. “It’s a shame. You are beautiful, and I hate to waste a good body. Oh, well. The coin I’m getting for this should help me sleep tonight.”
Julianne stared down the barrel, prepared to die. The weapon hummed as it readied itself to fire.
A blue burst of magitech energy filled Julianne’s vision, and a woman’s death scream filled the air.
****
Ezekiel formed the image of Girard in formal evening attire and then descended the stairs to the living room to meet up with Amelia. Hannah was there sitting on the floor with Sal. The dragon’s head was on her lap. Sal knew her well, and Ezekiel could see that his presence brought her comfort.
“It will be OK,” he said. “Gregory is stronger than we know—maybe even stronger than he knows. He will be OK.”
“I know,” she said. “Actually, it’s you I’m worried about. Are you sure you can handle Adrien? He’s not the boy you used to know.”
Ezekiel nodded and smiled. She had a point, and he knew it. The problem was, Hannah was far too valuable to risk. Ezekiel knew she had power—and that she was a good person. But he still lacked the confidence that she would be able to focus her energy when confronted by the man she hated more than anything in the world. It was likely that she would lose control again and destroy everything around her—maybe even herself this time. And she was too powerful of an asset to lose for the sake of revenge. Ezekiel’s vision was longer—he knew Hannah’s true calling.
She was meant for far more than Arcadia. Hannah was a necessary piece in the redemption of Irth.
Ezekiel considered sharing it all right there in the nobleman’s mansion—the truth about why he had really come back to Arcadia, but he stopped himself short. It would only distract them both, and tonight was a night where focus mattered more than anything.
“It’s alright,” was all he said. “I’ll have Amelia beside me, and she’s far more than just an administrator. Besides, don’t undersell your Zeke too much. I have quite a few tricks up my sleeve—and a score of my own to settle with the Chancellor.”
Hannah smiled. “Then kick his ass for me, all right? For William.”
****
“He’s going to know when we walk in,” Amelia said as they wound their way through the streets of the Quarter.
“Maybe.” Ezekiel shrugged. “But you have been a good ally to him all of this time. It would make sense for you to bring Girard along to talk business.”
Amelia smiled. “I don’t think he was planning on doing much academic strategic development, if you know what I mean.”
“Did you…”
“No!” Amelia shouted. “Even before I knew he was a monster, I never found the man as charming as all the others did. Something felt not quite right from the beginning.”
Ezekiel nodded. He knew how charming Adrien could be. It was a testament to Amelia’s character that she hadn’t been swayed by him.
The Academy was quiet as they climbed the stairs into the tower. A servant met them at the top and directed them down a hall toward the opulent dining room where Adrien stood waiting in dinner attire.
The table was set for three. Ezekiel caught Amelia’s eye and raised a brow.
“Ah! Amelia, you brought my old friend, just as I hoped you would.” The Chancellor winked at her as he spoke.
She shared a small, hesitant smile, and then forced a laugh. “That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure if an extra mouth would be welcome at your table tonight.”
Ezekiel scanned the room, looking for anything else out of place. He focused and tried to get a glimpse inside of his old student’s mind, but it was blocked. This meant nothing. Adrien had grown paranoid over the years in his position. Secrecy was a constant attribute of the Chancellor.
“I guessed you and our historian might want to talk business,” Adrien grinned. “There is so much that has transpired over the years. Girard here has much of it committed to memory, don’t you Girard?”
Ezekiel kept his eyes trained on Adrien’s, looking for some hint of the truth—some tell. But there was nothing. “I had to do something when I was out in the dreadful countryside to keep myself sharp. But it is good to be home and in the service of our fair Arcadia. Now, we can all set out to make her what she ought to be.”
Adrien cocked his head to the side, his eyes glimmered. “And what exactly is that, Girard? Do you think we have gone astray? You knew the Founder well, didn’t you? Tell me, what would he do if he were here right now?”
Time froze for Ezekiel. Adrien knew—it was written plainly across his face. This whole thing was one big charade. Ezekiel turned to Amelia—she knew it, too. Their game was up.
Ezekiel’s eyes flash
ed red as the image of Girard disappeared. For the first time in nearly half a century, the student and master stood face to face, showing their true selves.
Adrien clapped, laughing like a maniac. “Ezekiel, Ezekiel, you old fool. I’ve missed your theatrics. Welcome to my home. It is you this time, right? Not some sort of mirage.”
“It’s me, Adrien, in the flesh. And I’m here to end this once and for all.”
Ezekiel raised his hands over his head as if to give a final benediction. Energy flowed through his body. Tiny bolts danced around his fingertips. “Any last words, my old friend.”
Adrien hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Only one word. Guards!”
Doors flew open at every end of the room. A dozen Guards, some with magitech, others with magical mastery, rushed the room. Amelia tensed at his side; ready for action.
