by CM Raymond
Hannah stared wide eyed at her mentor, thinking he had lost his mind. But the Guard’s perpetually angry face softened as the large man broke out into laughter. Ezekiel followed after.
Hannah, on the other hand, didn’t get what was so funny.
“What the hell is happening?” Hannah said looking from one to the other.
Ezekiel took a breath between the laughs and smiled. “Didn’t I tell you? I’ve got an old friend working here now.”
She looked over at the brute of a man, and his eyes turned perfectly white. Then he was no more. Hannah couldn’t tell whether it happened all at once or if time stood still and the transformation was incremental, but before she could make sense of the situation, the Guard was gone and in his place stood a tall beautiful woman about her own age.
“Holy shit,” Hannah said.
“Classy. You sure she’s going to fit in?” the woman asked.
Ezekiel laughed. “She’s a fast learner.”
She smiled. “Good thing. Because you’re about out of time. At least she looks the part.”
“Um… Thanks?” Hannah said, still confused about what was happening.
“Now, Hannah,” Ezekiel said. “Meet Julianne, the master of the mystics.”
Hannah nodded at the woman. Hadley had spoken often of his teacher, but he wouldn’t tell Hannah where she was—only that she was off serving humanity.
Hannah pictured her feeding the poor or curing diseases, not masquerading as a Capitol Guard. And she also pictured her as a shriveled old lady, not as the beautiful woman in front of her.
“So, what gives?” Hannah asked. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s my doing, I’m afraid,” Ezekiel said. “When I traveled to the Heights over a month ago, my intention was to visit my disciple, Selah. Unfortunately, I was a few years late. But I was glad to find Julianne there in his stead. She is the new master of the mystics, and it looks as if she is going to be an amazing advantage in our cause.”
Julianne sat at the chair behind the desk and put her feet up on its surface. She reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a wineskin. “This kind of meeting calls for drink,” she said with a smile. “Come, sit for a while. I mean, I am the commanding officer at the gate for another six hours. We might as well make the most of it. And the longer I keep you in here, the tougher the other Guards will think I’m being on you.”
She held the wineskin out in Hannah’s direction, and Hannah was happy to take some of the mystics’ ale. She tilted the skin and drank deeply. It was surprisingly cold, and it instantly worked to settle her nerves.
“Thank you,” Hannah said as she passed the drink back to their host.
“Your teacher wasn’t the only person to visit us in the Heights that day,” Julianne said after she took a drink. “Chancellor Adrien had sent a group of his own to get information from us. I guess he was a little concerned about whether or not the mystics would prove to be a problem for his plans in Arcadia. Quite frankly, we probably wouldn’t have been, but things went sideways. And once the shit hit the fan, we had no other choice but to return blows with his men. Naturally, if they didn’t return, we would’ve been in big trouble. And apparently, Ezekiel doesn’t have the self-control of even a child mystic.” She thought about that comment, then changed it. “Make that a child.”
The old man laughed. “If I didn’t kill that man, he would’ve killed me, and come after you next. I’m not sure if all the meditation in the world would’ve stopped him.”
A thin-lipped smile spread on Julianne’s face. “You might be right, master magician. But I guess we’ll never know. Because of Ezekiel’s action, I found it necessary to take action of my own. I volunteered myself to masquerade as a dead man and make my way to Arcadia. Not the most enjoyable of pastimes, I can assure you.”
“Wait,” Hannah said. “I thought it was impossible for a mystic to look exactly like someone else.”
“Impossible for all but those at the top,” Ezekiel said. “And Julianne is, by definition, at the top.”
Julianne smiled. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m happier still that you’ve come back. I’ve learned quite a bit since I’ve been here, and I have to tell you, I think things might be worse than you expected.”
“Adrien’s big plan,” Ezekiel said, “is to build a machine. Is that right?”
Julianne nodded. “It’s all very secretive, things not even told to people in positions like the one I am now holding. But they’re building something in the factory. Something despicable enough to keep out of view. Not just a machine, but a weapon.”
Ezekiel nodded, a grave look on his face. All the mirth of their meeting disappeared. “Yes. My old student had said something about his plans for Irth. This must be it. And the amphorald shipments that are increasing, I assume those are not for the sake of making more of those speeder things that zip around the streets of Arcadia.”
Julianne shook her head. “The shipments come through here at the gate. We’re supposed to send them right through, down to the factory. The rearick are the only ones that get fast tracked into the city. I have no real idea what the thing is that they’re building, but I’m sure it’s not designed to bring world peace.”
“If Adrien’s involved,” Hannah jumped in. “You can bet it’s something awful.”
“Well,” Ezekiel said. “That’ll be one of the first things we will have to find out once we enroll Hannah in the Academy. Think you can handle a bit of espionage?”
Hannah turned to Ezekiel. “Listen, don’t forget that I’ve been running the streets since I could walk. Deceiving people comes second nature to a boulevard kid like me. Hunger has a way of making you hustle. But now that I’ve got magic on my side, Adrien and his minions will never see me coming.”
****
The carriage wound through the tight Arcadian streets, fighting against foot traffic. For all the problems in Arcadia, people still flocked to the city. It made Hannah wonder just how bad it was out in the world. She really had seen very little of it, despite the fact that she had seen more than most people born in the boulevard.
But their driver was good, and he made his way toward the noble quarter without any problems. Most people moved quickly out of their way—rule number one of living in Arcadia was that it didn’t pay to piss off the nobles. Being on this end of that rule was an experience altogether alien for her. In all of her days in Arcadia, she never even expected to be treated like a person, let alone royalty. While she had been in the noble district before, she was seeing it with new eyes.
She looked around for Parker, but he was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Hannah assumed he was off pulling the wool over someone’s eyes, like the old days. The thought of Parker made her happy, but she had no time for nostalgia—she had a revolution to start. She pushed Parker out of her mind as the driver pulled up in front of a place that looked as grand as it did abandoned.
“This it?” Hannah asked.
“Yes,” Ezekiel said. “This is our new home.”
“Whose is it?” Hannah asked.
“Why, it’s mine,” Ezekiel laughed. “Lord Girard, the bastard, he’s had this place ever since he moved out of Arcadia—though it was completely unnecessary. It’s sat fallow ever since. It’s part of the problem when the nobles don’t know what they have. And when their greed takes away from everybody else. There are systemic problems here as well as magical ones. I aim to cure both. But Arcadia wasn’t built in a day, nor can it be rebuilt in a day. Until then, we’ll use this home as our headquarters.”
As they approached the front door, they realized that the house wasn’t quite as grand as it looked from the outside. Distance had granted it a bit of grace, but now that they were standing on the front doorstep, the entire residence looked like it'd been abandoned years before. Ezekiel tapped the end of his staff on the door and waited.
"Maybe there's no one here," Hannah said.
"There are. More than
one,” he mumbled, “I can feel them."
He knocked again and waited a few more minutes. Then the magician took two fingers and pointed them toward the lock. He spun his wrist to the right, turning his fingers like a key. Hannah heard the lock snap open to welcome them into Girard's house.
Hannah pushed the door open. "After you, Z… Father."
Ezekiel, still looking like the nobleman, stepped across the threshold. Hannah followed after. Walking through the short foyer, they stepped into the large living room. It’s great vaulted ceiling overhead bounced back the echoes of two people snoring.
A woman, still in her sleeping gown, even though it was past the noon hour, lounged on a sofa with a plate of what looked like fine chocolates on her lap. A man was on a chair across from her dressed the same. A hardbound book lay open in his lap. But he wasn't reading, his head was snapped back, asleep.
"What the hell are you doing, you miserable servants?" Ezekiel boomed into the room.
The pair jumped out of their seats, eyes wide. The man, probably in his mid-forties, stammered as he stared at the master of the house. Luckily for him, the woman was much better on her feet. "Why, my Lord, welcome back to Arcadia," she said with an artificial smile on her face. "I must say, this is quite an unexpected visit."
Ezekiel looked around the room, letting his eyes cast slowly on the mess. "I'd say it's a surprise—for both of us! And what the hell have you two been doing in my house? Haven’t I been paying you to keep this place in order?”
"Oh, right. This." The woman swept her hand across the room. "Oh… We've been, um, there's been a sickness moving through the noble quarter. Charles and I, we've just had it terribly. That's all. It normally looks tiptop around here."
"Tiptop," the man, who was suddenly awake, repeated.
The woman got to her feet. "But now that you're home, my Lord, I will get to work at once. Sickness or no sickness, I will make sure that you have the grandest visit you've ever had to any place in all of Irth."
"Yes, in all of Irth," Charles mumbled after her.
"There's an old saying, Margaret. You can't bullshit a bullshitter." Ezekiel narrowed his eyes at them, and Hannah could barely stifle a laugh considering the fact that she and Ezekiel were indeed pulling some major bullshit right then and there.
The servants looked at one another and then back at the person they thought was Girard. They both laughed, though nervously. "Of course you can't," Margaret said. "And there will be no bullshit in this house."
"That's right, no bullshit here." The man flushed.
"Good, then we have an agreement. From the looks of this place, your sickness must be more long-term than any I have seen in all of Arcadia. You could be nearly dead, and I am afraid it may be catching. If you know what's good for you, you'll get the hell out of my house as quickly as you can. And if you don't, I’ll make sure your disease becomes permanent.”
The woman stammered again. "But… But… But… Lord, might you express mercy upon your servants. You've always been such a good man. Kind and generous and full of care. May we have another chance to—”
"You will get out of my house, and you will get out now,” Ezekiel bellowed. “And you won't mention anything about this to anyone. If you do, in the name of the Matriarch, I will make sure that I bring down all the wrath I’m able to muster. I will rip your lazy tongues from those lazy mouths."
The servants turned sheet white and ran from the house.
"Well, I think that went well," Hanna said with a grin. "Very low profile. I'm sure they won't tell anybody about this little meeting."
As she spoke, Hannah moved around observing the furniture. It was all highly ornate with its wooden carving and upholstered surfaces. She ran a finger across the table top, drawing a line of dust.
“This sucks.”
Ezekiel turned to her, brow furrowed. “Nothing a little cleaning won’t fix.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Not that. I lived in a three-room apartment with my brother and my drunk father all my life. Everybody I know lived the same way. And there are houses like these, empty. This shouldn’t happen.”
Ezekiel’s face looked grave. “It was never supposed to be like this. We spent so much time planning, and dreaming, and planning more to make sure that Arcadia would never be the kind of place that it has become. But we couldn’t plan for Adrien’s treachery. He will pay, and pay dearly.”
“But it’s not just him. I hate the guy, too, but it takes more than one man to keep a system like this alive. The nobles are just as bad.”
“Yes,” Ezekiel said. “But they have been taught that this is the way to live. The way to be. In many ways, they are children.”
Hannah stuck out her bottom lip as if she were pouting. “Awww. The cute little nobles really are victims.”
Ezekiel’s face looked as serious as the age of madness. “Sort of, yes. You can’t cast such an indictment on ignorance. But I agree, their naivete doesn’t make them innocent. But it does give them a potential. Maybe they just need a new teacher.”
“Like you,” Hannah said.
“Like you,” was Ezekiel’s response before turning and walking deeper into the house, leaving Hannah’s look of shock behind him.
Hannah ran after him. “What do you mean, me?”
“There will always be some that are richer than others, Hannah. As far as I can tell, the world has always been like that. It’s kind of like magic. Some can control the etheric as if they were gods, some live and die without ever knowing the power within them. But the problem isn’t that some have wealth or power when others don’t. The problem is how they use it. And while the nobles may have resources, I believe it is the poor, those like yourself, who can teach them how to truly use it. When the rich and the poor, when the magic users and those without, are united, and not kept separate from one another, then we will have true peace. And that’s part of why we’re here. True, I want you to infiltrate noble life to learn about Adrien’s plans. But I also think you could find us some allies here. If we can get the boulevard and the nobles to work together, taking down Adrien will be a piece of cake.”
Ezekiel finished his speech and picked up a vase full of wilted flowers. “But in the meantime, we’ll have to hire new servants.”
Hannah looked at him quizzically. Their ruse would only last so long, and the house would no longer be their residence once the plan had been completed—or if it failed. "What do we need servants for?"
"Our mission," Ezekiel said. "The mystical arts can only take us so far in keeping up appearances. There are some things that we will have to do for people that are more, well, mundane if you will.”
"Then we'll need servants, and maybe even a driver." Hannah raised her eyebrows.
"Now you're truly talking like a noble," Ezekiel said.
"In that case," Hannah said, "I know some people—good people—that can work for us. They're from the Boulevard, which means they can use the work. But it also means that they’re trustworthy. Unlike old Girard's servants."
Ezekiel looked around the house. The place was in shambles. They're going to need significant help if they were going to blend in.
Before he could respond, Sal, who had been sniffing around, leaped into the air. Two leathery wings broke out from under his fur coat and he began to fly around the room. The rest of the illusion broke with it, and Sal was fully dragon once again.
"Let’s keep it small, for now. Why don’t you give me the name of someone you can trust—and who won’t freak out when they see a dragon in the house. And then, I think there's another that I would like to have close to us. She won’t be a servant, more of an attendant to the lady," Ezekiel said with a wink.
