Harbinger

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Harbinger Page 5

by Cyndi Friberg


  A similar comment had launched the meandering tangent nearly an hour before. “The surveillance feed showed us how it happened. There’s no mystery here. Haven’s abductor could either teleport or bio-stream, which means we’re looking for someone who can manipulate magic or a technomage.”

  “Or someone with access to a Phantom shuttle.” Fintara, one of the two female members put in. “We can’t disregard the ships with bio-stream generators.”

  Vardon dismissed the possibility with an impatient wave of his hand. “Pyre Sterling took credit for the abduction less than an hour after it happened. The battle born have better things to do than run errands for the Harbinger Guild. And no technomage would betray the IG. This was something else.”

  “I agree.” Letos waited for his unexpected capitulation to deflate Vardon’s argumentativeness before he went on. “I think Pyre hired an outcast. They’re the only ones bold enough to defy us openly.”

  “But most of their abilities are unimpressive,” Vardon argued, and Letos ground his teeth. It didn’t matter what Letos said, Vardon took the opposite position. “Which among that motley group can teleport through our shields?”

  “I know of three.” Serian Orlang, the oldest and generally most levelheaded of the six councilmembers leaned forward, his hands folded on the tabletop. “Kage Razel gleefully revealed the weakness two years ago, but we’ve been unable to engineer a solution.”

  Letos remembered the incident well. Kage, the outcasts brash leader, teleported in and out of IG Headquarters six times in less than an hour. He set off alarms and had security running all over the building. Then he apparently lost interest in the demonstration and the invasions just stopped. No harm had been done, but for that hour, it had been utter chaos.

  “The shields keep everyone else out, so redesigning the entire system for one person hasn’t been a priority.” Vardon shrugged, but his petulant expression belied the indifference in his words. “The outcasts are a ragtag group of misfits. They’re no threat to us and they know it.”

  “What they are is a potential tool for our enemies,” Fintara liked the sound of her own voice. She was nearly as tiresome as Vardon.

  “All of this is beside the point,” Letos snapped. “Have you forgotten the reason for this meeting? Javin Aidentar is dead. We must choose an interim chairman before we announce his passing to the public.”

  “Chairperson,” Fintarra stressed.

  Letos just shook his head. The next official chairperson would be chosen by a vote from all the technomages in good standing with the IG. Still, this was an important first step. The Integration Guild could not drift around like a rudderless ship. “Are there any nominations?”

  “How in all of hells rings did Haven get away with this for so long?” Vardon grumbled as he pressed back into his chair.

  “Clearly, she had help.” Fintara looked around the table, her gaze narrowed and accusatory.

  “Haven’s most likely accomplice is Javin’s personal assistant,” Serian said. “Without Wildar confirming every lie she told, none of us would have believed her.”

  Unbelievable! Letos rubbed his eyes and fought back the urge to scream. Keeping this group on task was like herding cats.

  “Is he in custody?” Vardon wanted to know.

  “Not surprisingly, Wildar disappeared during the upheaval following Haven’s abduction.” Letos quickly tried again to refocus their attention. “Before we analyze all the reasons we should have known about Haven’s deception, can we please settle the matter of an interim chairman?”

  “Chairperson,” Fintara corrected more forcefully.

  “Fine, chairperson,” Letos agreed. “Call the position whatever you like as long as we’re agreed on who fills it.”

  The councilmembers settled down, their expressions growing thoughtful. And then the double doors at the other end of the room burst open and a frantic guard shouted, “We’re under siege! Quinton himself is out front demanding entrance!”

  “Under siege?” Vardon shook his head, clearly confused by the outburst. “If the crown stirate wants to visit, let him in.”

  “Not yet.” Letos stood and hurried across the room, motioning for the guard to follow. “Why was Quinton refused entrance in the first place?”

  “He hasn’t come for a visit, sir,” the guard explained as he rushed along at Letos’s side. “His forces surrounded the building on the ground and in the air.”

  Letos jogged toward the main lobby, the guard close behind. They soon reached the final doorway and Letos stopped. “Did Quinton explain the reason for this aggression?”

  The guard sneered. “Quinton doesn’t explain himself to anyone. He just ordered us to let him in.”

  Letos glanced back and found the other councilmembers huddled together at the far end of the hallway, watching him intently.

  “What do you intend to do?” Vardon called.

  “Find out what the man wants.” Letos shook his head and threw the door open, striding out into the main lobby as if royal sieges were an everyday occurrence.

  True to the guard’s description, royal forces were positioned at strategic intervals surrounding the front of IG Headquarters. Letos had no reason to doubt that the entire building was similarly covered. Quinton stood on the front lawn flanked by six of his massive bodyguards. His imperious expression only accented the narrowness of his face.

  Letos eased one of the transparent doors open and held both hands up at shoulder level. “I’m unarmed.” A technomage was never defenseless, but that was beside the point.

  Quinton strolled forward, the burly guards fanning out around him. “I should open fire for your discourtesy alone. How dare you ignore a royal command?”

  Letos quickly dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Forgive the guards, exalted one. Their job is to protect IG Headquarters and everyone inside. The manner in which you arrived made them uncertain of your intentions.”

  “My intentions were, and still are, to enter the building.” He made an impatient gesture and Letos stood. “I know you’re on the council. Tell me your name.”

  “I’m Letos, sire. At your service.”

  “Then escort me inside.”

  “Of course, sire.” Letos walked at Quinton’s side, but guarded his steps, making sure the monarch was always half a stride ahead. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. If I might be so bold, why the show of force?”

  Quinton didn’t speak again until he and his six bodyguards were inside the lobby. Then he stopped and straightened his shoulders, staring down the length of his nose. “I wish to speak with Javin Aidentar.”

  Letos glanced upward. The front section of each upper level was open, providing unhindered views of the sprawling city surrounding them. The railed galleries were also open onto the lobby below. Curious people had gathered along the railings, waiting to see what the commotion was about. “I’m sorry, sire, but that’s impossible at the moment.” Letos couldn’t mention Javin’s passing until the council chose an interim successor.

  “Why?”

  The challenge in Quinton’s voice told Letos this was no casual game. The crown stirate obviously suspected that something was serious wrong and had stormed over to take advantage of the conflict. “This will doubtlessly be a long conversation. May we please continue in the council chambers? All of the councilmembers are here, so I’m sure we can resolve this to your satisfaction.”

  “All of the councilmembers, except the chairman.” Quinton’s brow arched and his head tilted slightly to the left. “All I’m hearing are excuses and evasions.” His voice echoed off the transparent walls of the elegant lobby. The arrogant bastard was playing to the crowd.

  “If you want answers, follow me.” Commanding a crown stirate was an insult, one Quinton’s pride would force him to address. Before Quinton could recover his voice, however, Letos rushed from the lobby. Quinton caught Letos long before he reached the council chambers, but the ploy worked. They now stood in a narrow corridor far awa
y from watchful eyes.

  “I could have you arrested for that little stunt,” Quinton sneered. “A crown stirate follows no one.”

  “We were about to choose an interim chairman when you arrived. Until that person has been named, the rest must remain secret.”

  The other council members had followed as well, but they remained well back like useless cowards.

  “Has Javin Aidentar passed beyond?” Quinton’s tone demanded an immediate answer.

  “Yes.” Letos motioned Quinton onward. “If you’ll continue to the council chambers, we’ll explain everything.”

  “I’ll speak with you and one other. I have no patience for chattering throngs.”

  Letos fought back a smile. Chattering throng was an apt description of the council much of the time.

  Without asking for suggestions, Quinton turned to the rest of the council and pointed to Vardon Hamlin. “You. Follow us.” Quinton’s guards surrounded him as Letos guided them down one hallway, through a security gate and down another corridor.

  Quinton sat down at the head of the table once they reached the council chamber. Vardon sat on his right, while Letos chose a chair on Quinton’s left.

  “Start at the beginning and tell me everything,” Quinton ordered after his guards had secured the doors and activated audio dampeners. When Vardon started to speak, Quinton stopped him with an upraised hand. “I want to hear it from Letos first.”

  Letos cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter as he began his explanation. “I’ve been in the field for the past few months, so much of this came as a surprise upon my return.”

  “In the field?” Challenge sharpened Quinton’s nasally tone. “Do you dabble in agriculture?”

  “Something like that.” Letos narrowed his eyes. He’d long since wondered how much of Quinton’s stupidity was an act. It was easier to manipulate others when they underestimated you.

  “Have you learned how Javin’s life ended?”

  “We’re not absolutely sure that it has,” Vardon persisted, despite Quinton’s request that Letos speak. “When Haven was kidnapped, we confirmed that Javin was not bedridden as she claimed. We’ve been unable to locate him anywhere else, which leads to the assumption that he has passed beyond. But still, we have no tangible proof.”

  “Just to avoid miscommunications, we are speaking of Haven Tandori. Correct?”

  “Correct, though confirming her true identity is a recent development as well,” Letos asserted before Vardon had a chance to muddy the waters again. “She has been using an alias since her arrival.”

  Quinton stilled and anger ignited in his narrowed eyes. “How long has the Integration Guild been harboring Simolta Tandori’s granddaughter?”

  “We were not harboring her, sire,” Vardon insisted. “Javin fell in love with the fugitive and they both went to great lengths to conceal her true identity.”

  After making a dismissive sound, Quinton said, “I had no idea the IG was so gullible. Not only did Javin convince you his lover was a harmless nobody, but that same female convinced you that Javin was still alive long after his remains were ash. If I were a technomage, I’d insist that every member of this worthless council be banished from the IG.”

  With begrudging reluctance, Letos agreed. They’d all been complacent, so caught up in their individual dramas that they missed the disaster rushing toward all of them. Letos had been off world during the majority of Haven’s deception, but he’d failed to pursue his suspicions regarding Javin’s mate. Javin’s private life had no impact on IG business—or so Letos had thought—so he’d allowed Javin to keep his secrets and indulge his passions for the mysterious female who basically appeared out of nowhere.

  “My question remains unanswered,” Quinton reminded. “How long was Haven Tandori under this roof?”

  “The better part of two years.” Shame rushed through Letos as he heard his own words. It sounded so much worse out loud.

  “And how long has it been since anyone actively interacted with Javin?”

  “At least four months,” Vardon told him.

  “Unbelievable.” Quinton crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I’ll be conducting an in-depth investigation into these events. I expect everyone to cooperate completely with my inquisitors. And my forces will remain in place until I determine that I have all the facts.”

  Anger and frustration brought Letos to his feet. “There is no reason to hold us hostage. We are as anxious to learn the details as you.”

  “I doubt it.” Quinton waved away his objection and stood as well. “My decision remains. IG Headquarters is in lockdown. No one in or out until I say otherwise.” Humor suddenly sparked within his dark eyes. “If it’s any consolation, Pyre was no better at holding on to Haven than you were.”

  “What do you mean?” Vardon pushed back his chair and stood as he waited for Quinton to explain.

  “Someone teleported into Pyre’s private apartment about an hour ago and snatched Haven right out from under her nose.”

  “Was it the same person who took her from us?” Letos asked.

  Quinton shook his head. “The physical descriptions I received were completely different. According to my sources, neither image was very clear, but it’s definitely two different perpetrators. Haven was kidnapped twice in less than twenty-four hours. I had no idea she was so popular.” With a rumbling chuckle, he strode from the room.

  Chapter Three

  Haven stood on the wide concourse leading to the main entrance of Lunar Nine. She turned in a slow circle, taking in the mammoth cavern in which the multi-level outpost had been constructed. Roughly a dozen ships were scattered along the twin docking strips, but it was obvious the outpost could host many more. After spending the past two years on Rodymia, Lunar Nine seemed rather primitive. Yet she’d been raised on Earth, so realizing all of this was tucked away inside the moon boggled her mind.

  “And no one on Earth knows this is up here?” She shook her head, unable to drag her gaze away from the surreal setting.

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Danvier lightly touched the small of her back, encouraging her to continue along the walkway. “Many know about the outpost and even more suspect something is up here. They’re just not sure what.”

  A shiver raced up her spine and she looked at his handsome face. She didn’t pretend to know him well, but six hours alone with him had helped her penetrate his practiced reserve. He was very different from his first impression. Though he remained quiet and watchful, he was far from emotionless. She sensed depths to his personality that were at odds with his stoic demeanor. And the contradiction intrigued her.

  “Have you been ordered to take me directly to General Nox or can I freshen up somewhere first?”

  Danvier tensed and the pressure of his hand increased. “I thought Garin was ‘highhanded’ and a ‘manipulative bastard’. Why would you care if he found you disheveled?”

  She pivoted toward him, ready to explore his subtle show of jealousy. Her tired mind failed to provide a witty response as she gazed into his silver-ringed blue eyes. With waist-length hair and elegant features, he was almost too beautiful to be male. Yet one glance beyond his face banished any doubt about his masculinity.

  Even dressed in traditional harbinger garb, he had the muscular build of a battle-hardened warrior. His dark blue tunic stretched across wide shoulders then tapered dramatically to narrow hips. His pants were a smoky gray and the hem of his tunic had been embroidered in silver, the pattern intricate and beautiful.

  His lips curved into a lazy smile as awareness pulsed between them. She knew she was staring. So was he. Yet neither could look away or break the sensual pull drawing them together. Moments ticked by as reality narrowed and then he raised one of his hands and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her senses warmed and hummed, making her restless.

  “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll—”

  “Haven!” Ulrik’s booming voice shattered the spell
.

  Danvier lowered his arm and stepped back, retreating behind his emotionless mask.

  Whatever he’d been about to say was lost and Haven wanted to smack her brother for his deplorable timing. Ulrik reached them a moment later and swept her into a tight hug.

  “It’s so good to see you.” He picked her up and swung her around like he’d done when she was a child. Though his enthusiasm was touching, she couldn’t help wondering if the show of affection was as much for Danvier’s benefit as hers.

  “I missed you too.” She smiled and eased out of his embrace. “Where’s Berlynn? I’ve been so worried about her.”

  “She’s in our apartment, or actually in hers. We have living quarters right next to each other. The rest of the building is basically vacant, so I’m sure they can find room for you too.” Ulrik looked at Danvier expectantly and the harbinger smiled.

  “Give me a moment and I’ll find out what General Nox has planned.” Then he walked a short distance down the concourse and turned his back to Ulrik and Haven.

  “Arrogant jerk,” Ulrik whispered under his breath. “He’s even worse than the others and they’re insufferable.”

  She laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.” He just glared at her and Haven smiled. She’d always been closer to Vinton than Ulrik, but it still felt wonderful to be back in the company of family. An unexpected rush of sorrow accompanied the thought, momentarily eclipsing Haven’s other thoughts. Vinton wasn’t there to greet her because he had passed beyond. He was dead, permanently separated from this reality. The concept was so unbelievable she kept forgetting he was gone.

  And worst of all, it was her fault. How would the others react once they learned she was responsible for the events leading to Vinton’s death?

 

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