Gabriel and Valentine stopped by the basement to wish him good luck, and Laonte arrived soon after.
“We’ll take one of Master Martelli’s gondolas and travel to the first rendezvous spot,” Laonte informed him, and they left soon after.
The first leg of their voyage took more than an hour that seemed to drag on forever as they kept silent and looked at the vast expanse of the Sea of Tranquility. Turquoise and green meshed seamlessly with the light blue of the Celestian sky.
The hydrosaurus that Gabriel had called Rose followed them, accompanied by two smaller versions of the large marine mammal. The three of them jumped out of the water in a playful pattern, dowsing the gondola in salty water every few minutes. Dragon was grateful for the diversion or he would have gone mad waiting.
“Here it is,” Laonte finally announced, pointing his eyes at a dot in the middle of the placid waters.
Several minutes later, the dark speck grew into a small, rocky island. Laonte maneuvered the gondola toward the narrow dock protruding from the island’s crescent. Moored to the wharf was an amphibian aircar, and Laonte brought the gondola to a stop by the bulky vehicle.
Their arrival had created a wake, and the amphibian aircar bobbed too much, making it difficult for Dragon to jump from one vehicle into the other, but he managed to enter the round porthole on top of his next ride. When he slid inside, he remembered why he hated those vehicles. The space was minimal, and the bottom part of the hull was transparent, immediately triggering his claustrophobia.
“Coming in,” Laonte warned, and Dragon stepped to the side to make space for him.
Once inside, Laonte raised his hand to show him a scrap of black cloth. “Wear this.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“It’s what the Academy required,” Gabriel’s aid answered, pressing the fabric into Dragon’s hand.
Cursing, Dragon moved as much as he could in the suffocating space to tie the blindfold over his eyes. When he was done, he felt around the edges of the cloth, now splotched with his sweat. The darkness surrounding him only amplified his fear of small spaces. “Is this truly necessary?”
“It’s just for show anyway. The Academy moves its location constantly. And even if that weren’t the case, they know you don’t need your eyes closed to track them down.”
Dragon cursed again, wiping pearls of sweat from his forehead.
“Ready?” Laonte asked, gently touching Dragon’s elbow to steer him to the right.
“Ready.” In truth, Dragon couldn’t wait a moment longer to finally put in motion his plan, and if he had to travel in that tin can blindfolded, so be it.
31
Jade stared at Rasmud. “Again?” she asked the medicus, who held a syringe over her left arm. Her right one already sported more than ten holes, and her skin was a patch of yellow and purple.
The second day of her imprisonment at the Academy had mirrored the first so far, down to Maarlo escorting Jade to the infirmary and waiting in the corner for the medicus to finish his probing and testing.
Rasmud didn’t answer her. He seldom did, working silently under Maarlo’s oppressive scrutiny. The assassin shook his head at Jade which could mean anything from “don’t bother,” to “shut up.” The scolding didn’t affect her, but it obviously bothered the medicus, who grabbed Jade’s arm before she raised it for him.
In complete silence, the medicus drew three whole vials of blood, offered her some disgusting concoction to drink afterward, and finally said, “You can rest for a few minutes while I check your vitamin levels.”
Feeling cold, Jade straightened her tunic over her legs before lowering herself to the narrow medical bed. She gave her back to Maarlo, keeping her gaze on the medicus, who tinkered with ampules and glass containers he shook from time to time.
“You need iron,” Rasmud said after a good ten minutes had passed. He reached for one of the mechanical IV stands lining the wall, attached a bag to its prehensile arm and rolled it all the way to Jade’s bed. “You’ll feel more energized.”
The medicus motioned for her to lie on her back as he positioned the end of the metallic arm over her hand. The arm whirred to life, and its tubular end opened, revealing a ring of needles that descended fast, piercing her skin.
Her first reaction was to jerk her arm away, which prompted the needles to drive deeper into the back of her hand.
“Don’t fight it,” Rasmud suggested, patting her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me unless necessary,” she growled, giving him a death stare.
Removing his hand at once, Rasmud stepped back. “It’s a low-drip treatment,” he said, looking behind Jade.
“How long will it take?” Maarlo left his corner and walked around the bed, stopping before Jade.
“Three hours.” The medicus adjusted the mechanical arm, easing the pressure of the needles, for which Jade was grateful.
She had experienced unbearable pain during her long career as an assassin, excruciating agony of an order of magnitude that wasn’t even comparable to the mere inconvenience of an injection, but needles always set her on edge.
“She should be back in her cell already,” Maarlo muttered.
“Stuck with babysitting duty isn’t fun, ah?” Jade said, noting how Maarlo’s hand kept going back to the handle of his dagger as he stood slightly angled toward the exit.
“Enjoy the reprieve while you can,” Maarlo said, looking down at her with undisguised discontent.
A vigorous knock on the door prevented Jade from adding a witty remark. Maarlo strode to the other side of the room and pushed the swinging panel open, revealing Marika, who didn’t enter but remained where she stood, casting glances at Jade.
Maarlo stepped in front of the girl, hiding her from sight.
“He’s on his way and will arrive shortly,” Marika whispered before Maarlo admonished her to lower her voice. They exchanged a few more words, and finally he turned, letting the panel swing back on its hinges. His expression had changed from mildly annoyed to downright furious.
“She’ll get it done tomorrow.” Maarlo pointed at the mechanical arm. “Remove it.”
“But she needs the iron therapy,” the medicus said.
Maarlo closed the gap between them in a few angry steps, his hand grasping at the metallic end of the arm.
“I’ll do it.” Rasmud stepped in front of the bed and raised one hand to stop Maarlo from yanking the ring of needles from Jade’s hand.
“Hurry.” Maarlo moved back, keeping his dark gaze on the medicus, making the man visibly tremble.
“I need to deactivate the sequence,” the medicus said, pushing a button on the arm before walking to the wall where the mechanical arm was attached to the rest of the clockwork IV stand.
Maarlo’s attention was on the medicus. Recognizing the first chance she’d had since her kidnapping, Jade acted on impulse, wrenching the tubular end of the mechanical arm from her hand before Rasmud turned off the machine. As blood spurted from her skin, the needles whirred, descending lower, looking for flesh to anchor itself. Maarlo whirled at the new high-pitched sound, and Jade pushed the mechanical arm up, shoving it with all her might against his eyes. The needles hooked their tiny, prickly ends into Maarlo’s face, digging deeper as he clawed at the mechanical arm.
Screams echoed in the room as the air filled with the metallic smell of blood. Jade jumped off the bed and ran for the door, smashing her body against the panel and hitting Marika, who stood behind. The girl went sprawling to the floor, and Jade hammer kicked her solar plexus hard before she could react. Surprise and shock showed on the woman’s face as the sound of breaking bones piercing internal organs mixed with her last choked breath.
The familiar geography of the place helped Jade navigate the labyrinth structure of the Academy as she ran toward the hangars.
As soon as she rounded the first corner, she came face to face with a surprised assassin. The man’s hesitation caused his demise. Jade hit his throat wi
th the edge of her palm, choking him, before delivering a swinging kick to his head, severing the skull from his already damaged spine.
A second assassin entered the hallway. Jade punched his hand as he reached for his blade, sending the weapon skittering to the floor. The man kicked her, buckling her knee painfully. Falling, she reached out, grabbing the man’s shirtsleeve. They both landed on the floor, the man on top of her, his strong hands around her throat, cutting off her airways. Black dots soon danced before her eyes. Her wounded hand patted the cold marble tiles, searching for the man’s blade. Jade ignored the pain, forcing her fingers to stretch until they met with the edge of the weapon. With one last effort, she grabbed the blade and shoved it into the man’s chest. His hands relaxed around her throat, his mouth opened in a silent scream before gurgling blood, and he finally collapsed against her.
Jade emerged from under him, resuming her escape. Her heart in her throat, she pushed her body to its limits, following the less-traveled paths. As soon as she found the first service door, she exited the infirmary wing to take the service hallways, where only mechanical workers resided. Darkness permeated the narrow corridors because their inhabitants didn’t need illumination. Jade had memorized every bend and every exit of the service wing when she was a recruit and in need of a reprieve from the likes of Maarlo and his sadist followers.
Her hand throbbed, blood gushing anew from the torn flesh. She didn’t stop to look at the damage she had inflicted on herself when she yanked the needles. Instead, she pressed the back of her hand against her chest, staunching the wound as best as she could, pressing forward, one step after the other. She needed an aircar, and she couldn’t stop until she reached the hangars.
With that goal in mind, she ran, following the meandering passageways with her other hand brushing the wall for guidance.
32
Jade needed to take a breather, but she didn’t slow her pace as she ran from one end of the Academy to the other. In the oppressive silence of the service hallways, she could hear her heart beating. Her blood thrummed against her ears, making her feel sick, but she forced her body to keep going.
Dark thoughts entered her mind, and she pushed them away by summoning the imaginary baby with traits and coloring that were different from hers, and so similar to her target’s.
Out of nowhere, she heard someone whispering her name. She shivered at the sheer sensuality of the masculine timber of the man’s voice, and she faltered, pitching forward in the darkness of the corridor. Cursing, she broke the fall with her good hand.
A memory.
Jade recognized what she had experienced as a memory. Nothing but a memory, and yet, so much more. The erasion had crumbled for a moment.
She couldn’t help but laugh at the timing. “Past-Jade, are you finished screwing me over?”
The low rumble of steps came from the other side of the wall. By now, the Academy had unleashed its best trackers to find her.
Waiting for the danger to pass, Jade stood still and willed her heart to slow down. She counted her heartbeats, as she had learned so long ago, until the gap between them increased. As if her body didn’t belong to her any longer, a sense of peace blanketed her. Her mind expanded, and she calculated her best course of action.
Her enemies’ steps echoed softer and softer, south of her position. She took a step, then another, her feet light and her breathing regular as she stealthily moved ahead. Soon, the head tracker was bound to send someone inside the service area, looking for her in the only place he hadn’t thought to yet.
When she was sure the trackers were out of earshot, Jade started running again, counting the steps to the hangar’s door.
One thousand, two hundred, fifty-three—
One thousand, two hundred, four—
Nine hundred, seventy-six—
Three hundred and twenty—
Fifty-nine—
One—
Her hand reached out and encountered the metal handle of the hangar’s door. She carefully lowered the bar, cracking the panel open to peer outside. Booted steps echoed far away. At least two men, judging from their careless stomping. From her vantage point, she saw that one of the hatches on the other side of the large chamber was just closing. Soon after, silence blanketed the place, now deserted.
Jade had expected to find the mechanic crew tinkering on vehicles, but she wasn’t going to question the first good news of the last two months. She was about to push the bar all the way down to enter the hangar when the hissing sound of an opening hatch stopped her.
It was the same door she had seen locking a moment earlier. A man emerged from it and purposefully strode toward Jade’s side of the room. From his attire and deportment, she surmised that he wasn’t an assassin, but a vampire. She couldn’t risk him discovering her and swiftly flattened against the door, leaving the panel ajar for fear that closing it would draw his attention.
Daring a look, Jade angled enough to take a glimpse. The man stopped at a red aircar-taxi parked a few steps from the exit door. The aircar was one of the vehicles used to escort visitors in and out of the Academy, and the man was the designated driver. Assassins didn’t cart people around but used a handful of reliable men and women among shifters and vampires for the job. They didn’t trust those outsiders enough to show them their faces, which explained why nobody else was in the hangar.
The man entered the aircar-taxi and sat in the driver seat. He didn’t reach for the ignition lever and left the door opened. Closing his eyes, he raised his arms over the back of his seat and relaxed.
A smile spread across Jade’s face. Her luck seemed to be improving by the second, but she had to seize the moment. There wouldn’t be another occasion to hitch a ride undetected.
After checking that nobody was around, she slid to the ground and slinked out of her hiding place on all fours. Without making a sound, she entered the aircar. A heartbeat later, her dagger was at the man’s throat.
“Do not scream. Do not move,” she whispered to his ear. “Nod if you understand.”
The man obeyed.
“You escorted a guest and are waiting for him to come back, right?” she asked.
Again, the man nodded.
“How long?” She pressed the dagger against his skin. “You can talk, but don’t raise your voice.”
“I don’t know,” he answered.
“Then we wait.” If she forced him to leave before his scheduled time, the aircar’s alarm would sound, drawing all the trackers to the hangar. “Who’s the visitor?” she asked, applying more pressure until a thin red line appeared.
“The Solarian High Lord,” the man answered promptly.
33
After leaving the rocky island, Laonte escorted a blindfolded Dragon on a trip that involved various land and air vehicles, all meant to thoroughly confuse him as to his whereabouts, so he would have no idea where the Academy headquarters were located.
“We have arrived,” Laonte finally said.
A sound that resembled a vacuum cleaner resonated from outside, followed by a subtle lurch of the aircar they had been flying in for the last hour. A moment later, the sucking noise ceased, and the internal buzz and hum of the vehicle stopped at once, leaving Dragon disoriented as he blindly tried to assess where they were.
A door hissed. Fresh air entered the cabin. Salty breeze and humidity reached Dragon’s nostrils, making him wonder if they had ever left the underwater chamber they briefly stopped in, in between legs of the journey.
“This way,” Laonte said.
Dragon followed the man’s silent instructions as he steered him out of the aircar. Again, Dragon’s boots hit a smooth and slippery surface, reinforcing his previous thought. Although, if he were the Academy, he would want him to think that they had never left, when in truth, they were somewhere else altogether.
“Just a few steps this way.” Laonte’s calm voice and his steady hand kept guiding him for several minutes until he said, “Stop.” He moved away from Drag
on, and a moment later, the hissing sound of a hatch closing on its hinges resonated in a much smaller space. The quality of the air changed at once, and the temperature rose as well. “You don’t need this anymore.” His hand reached for Dragon’s blindfold, untying the cloth.
It took a moment for his eyes to focus, and he blinked a few times, but soon Dragon was able to see a white room that was an antechamber. Behind him was the hatch door Laonte had just closed, and in front, a second one the man was already opening.
“Someone else is going to escort you to your meeting,” Laonte said, motioning for Dragon to follow him outside into a dimly-lit hallway.
At the end of the narrow corridor that looked like it had been excavated from a rock wall, a man waited as promised.
Laonte nodded at the assassin, then said to Dragon, “I’ll be out here, waiting for you.”
Dragon followed the assassin through a series of windowless corridors that held no recognizable decorative accents. The illumination was too bright and hurt his eyes which had been closed until a few minutes earlier. Slates of gray marble covered the walls, the floors, and the ceilings, all of which seemed to expand forever until the next corner revealed another never-ending hallway. The place was built like a maze, looked like a mausoleum, and didn’t invite lingering. Brimstone and humidity covered every surface with a shiny dew.
Beforehand, the assassin had told Dragon that he wouldn’t answer any questions he might have, so they walked in silence, their steps resonating too loudly in the nightmarish space.
After several minutes of unending turns, a door appeared at the far end of yet another branch from the main corridor. The man knocked on the metal surface three times, then pushed it open and motioned for Dragon to cross the threshold into a dimly-lit room.
Once he stepped inside, oppressively humid warmth enveloped him. The scent of burnt incense wafted toward him, leaving the room in clouds of hot vapors. The door closed with a resounding slam, and, coming from the outside brightness, Dragon squinted to find his way in the sudden darkness.
The Fifth Moon's Assassin (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 5) Page 14
