‘Upon further review however, it is the considered opinion of myself and my colleagues that tainted, magical objects do have the same ability. A piece of armor or a Falseblade can draw to itself a new wielder, if it is left alone, or its very existence is placed in peril. This is accomplished less through regular communication, and more through a form of temptation. One must be very conscious of what they are seeing when they are tempted to do something by a wraith of any kind.
Mary blinked as she considered the possibilities. It wasn’t a person or a creature that was calling to Captain Dirk. It was an object. Or rather, a creature within an object. She shook herself, grabbing at a few of the books she had on hand. She needed to know more. She needed to correlate her findings.
It was time to learn more about the Falseblades.
“Are you people stupid or something?” Jennifer snapped, slapping the newspaper down on the table in her father’s living room. The collected faces around the room were both startled and confused.
“Sorry Jen,” Drew said, straightening his tie as he spoke. Jennifer started pacing the room, her steps both angry and swift.
“Don’t give me sorry Anger!” Jenny stomped her feet a few times, screaming through gritted teeth. Drew cocked an eyebrow. She was actually throwing a fit. He hadn’t seen her do that in a very long time. “All I wanted was for you guys to help me with a little personal business. Is that so much to ask?!” The rest of the public relations group was ramrod still. Not a one dared to approach their screaming star. Drew looked left, then right, hoping that one of them could pull enough courage together to have a spine, but no one budged. Finally, Drew gave an uneven grunt. He’d have to do this himself.
"We got caught with our pants down," one of them said, trying to excuse their lack of action. Drew frowned hard at the woman, causing her to cringe ever so slightly.
“Our pants down?” Jennifer fumed. “You'll find yourself on the downside of a bad right hand if you don't come up with something more helpful in the next five seconds!” The woman stammered and stuttered, fumbling with her attaché in an attempt to find anything she could use to spark an idea. Jennifer growled in response.
“You guys are useless,” Drew droned. “Jen.” Jennifer stopped, closing her eyes and trying to calm her nerves. Drew considered touching her shoulders, but thought better of it. “She's right. We just got caught off guard. That’s all.” Jennifer shook her head.
“We can’t afford to get caught off guard again, Drew. What happens here is too important.” Jennifer turned, looking Drew dead in the eyes. Drew could feel the sweat going cold on his skin as she glared at him. “You don't understand the stakes. I need him Drew.” Jennifer’s voice seemed to soften, taking on an almost desperate tone. “You may not like that, but I need him so badly.” Drew’s face darkened visibly. He didn’t like to hear that. But Jennifer’s face told him all that he needed to know. She was deadly serious about this.
“So, what do you expect us to do?” he asked after a moment. Jennifer turned, beginning to pace again. Drew waited quietly. The last few days, Jennifer had made all the decisions. She usually left it up to them, opting for having her free time. But now, Jennifer was calling the shots. And she’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need any help thinking.
“We need to get ‘her’ out of the way,” she said, pointing at the newspaper. It was an obvious thought. If Rebekah Norik was out of the way long enough, Jennifer could weasel in. Drew knew his starlet had enough history with Marcus to be able to drive a wedge. And Rebekah having her own history with the paladin didn’t hurt either.
“But she isn’t allowed to leave the campus,” one of the suits said from the side. Jennifer and Drew both looked over, almost forgetting that anyone else was in the room. The young man shifted uncomfortably, his suit suddenly feeling like a wrap of chains.
“He’s right,” Drew said resignedly. Jennifer slumped a little.
“So, we have to manufacture something that will draw her off.” Jennifer started chewing on her pinky nail. It was a new habit as far as Drew had seen. “Kris, take a few snoops and go to Norik. See what’s going on in the old homestead. Maybe we don’t have to make up something. The rest of you, I want all over the place. Stick to Norik like glue. Pepper her with questions, snap photos until she goes blind from the flash, I don’t care. But I want to know where she is and who she’s with every minute.” The group waited for a moment, just in case something else was needed. “Don’t just stand there. JUMP!” The group started taking down notes, making themselves memos on their new assignment. After a bit of verbal chaos, the PR crew was in full motion, headed for the door.
“What’re you gonna do then?” Drew asked. Jennifer smirked.
“I’m gonna stick to Marcus like glue.” Drew frowned a bit. “You don’t like that plan?” Drew shook his head.
“Princess Norik isn’t going to like that very much.” Jennifer smiled.
“She’ll live. And if it kills her, I’ll be there for Marcus. It’s a win-win situation. Except for her.” That wasn’t the tone Drew had gotten to know over the years.
“You’re not planning on doing something extreme, are you?” Jennifer started for the staircase.
“That really depends on your definition, now doesn’t it?” Drew grimaced. “Oh relax Drew. When this’s all over, maybe we’ll take a stab at making you famous.” Drew watched her heading upstairs to her old room, taking the stairs rather deliberately. He could almost swear she was lingering for his benefit. But Drew knew better. “You know, your staring is going to make me blush,” she said as she quickened her pace. Drew sneered as he watched her disappear from view. He watched her a moment more and gave a wistful sigh. Jennifer was certainly in a better mood when she had a mission to accomplish.
“Are you ogling my daughter?” a voice said from the door. Drew turned around, seeing Gerard Burton hanging his keys on the wall. He smirked at the sight of the man.
“Sorry. Your daughter has very good posture,” Drew said, trying to sound innocent.
“Posture. I’m sure,” Gerard muttered. “She’s in a good way lately,”
“She is when she’s excited about something.” Gerard took Drew’s hand, shaking it firmly.
“But then, you’re not what she’s excited about, are you?” Drew shook his head. “I think you’d be better for her than Marcus.” Drew smiled.
“Yeah, so do I. But you know how Jennifer is. She gets something in her head . . .,” Gerard nodded.
“And it’d take a fleet of dragons to even slow her down.” Gerard knew his daughter all too well. Jennifer would see this through. And no one would be able to tell her anything about it. She was like her mother that way. “You think she has time to talk?” Drew motioned to the stairs.
“If you think you can fit in between her crusades. Then yes.” Gerard headed for the stairs. He hadn’t seen his daughter since she’d left for her tour. She hadn’t written and she hadn’t called. But Gerard had had no problems keeping track of her. His desk in the living room was covered in newspapers and tabloids following his daughter’s exploits all over the eastern continent. But she still hadn’t even sent him a postcard.
The door to her room was just slightly ajar as Gerard walked up. He hadn’t changed it in the entire time she was gone. It still had the sign on it that Jennifer liked so much. The edges of the poster were curling just slightly, but it still stated proudly what Jennifer had always said.
People who don’t like music are nuts! He had to smile at that. His daughter was certainly gifted. She could sing a ballad and cause even the most stalwart of men cry. She could make an entire crowd of people jump up and dance. She believed so deeply in the power of music, it showed out in every song she sang.
Gerard stopped short of the door, his hand hovering over the knob for a second. He could’ve sworn he’d heard someone talking inside. But looking through the crack showed him only his daughter, standing at the open closet, contemplating her wardrobe.
<
br /> “Hey Bright Eyes,” he said, his fatherly side showing. Jennifer turned, her face not showing the recognition he expected. But after a second, she smiled, and rushed up.
“Daddy!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. Gerard hugged his daughter and smiled. He was glad she was home.
“We’ve got a lot to discuss,” Marcus said, leaning against a wall in the Archival Office, trying not to look too casual. The entire of his class and all of his associates were here. Donavan and Mary had a pile of books next to them a foot high. Rebekah was looking at the newspaper and scowling. Ian and Aiko were doing their best not to pay too much attention to each other.
Sage was off to one side, fiddling with some calculations on an electronic pad. He was still having trouble with the vibrational abnormalities of the Triumphant’s energy core. Marcus knew he was listening, but he wasn’t giving it his full attention.
“And we’re meeting here because . . .?” Jack asked, not used to the setting.
“The Holodrome’s going to be used for training and a few of the events in the Peace Games. I’ve been told summarily that, to keep extraneous people from being in the Holodrome simulators during the Games, they are restricting access to all but competitors, trainers, officials and ticket holders.” Jack harrumphed. He was none of those things.
“What about very charming Roykirks?” he asked ingenuously.
“You’ll be charming and a Roykirk, but you will also be outside,” Marcus returned. Jack scowled.
“Does that actually work on people?” Rebekah asked from the side. Jack shrugged.
“It used to. It’s been on the fritz lately. I think I may be sick.” Marcus shook his head in amusement.
“So the Library isn’t off-limits?” Ian asked. Marcus shrugged.
“Yes and no. The Paladin Council have granted us what they call a ‘special dispensation.’ I prevailed upon Sir Garamond to let us have someplace to work.” Rebekah smirked.
“I believe Marcus’s exact words were, ‘I don’t want all those people in my quarters.” That got a laugh. A smile crossed Marcus’s face as he tried to order his thoughts.
“With the press everywhere, we can’t exactly walk around doing whatever we want. That little incident in the Quad yesterday didn’t go unnoticed. The Council is putting both Ellis and Uther under deterrence until they can determine whether any illegal magics were used. They think it’s a good idea to have you under my watch until further notice.” Uther and Ellis looked at each other in shock.
“Deterrence?” Donavan asked.
“It's a form of suspension,” Rebekah clarified. “Deterrence means that the two of them are under a kind of review. Their actions will be closely monitored, and they will be forced to only go from their barracks to classes. Anything else is a breach of curfew if they do not have express permission from a paladin in the education department.” Donavan looked at her for a minute, wondering why she knew so much.
“You don’t have to do magic to get a deterrence on your record,” she said finally, her face a little redder than when she’d started. Donavan nodded in understanding. He was starting to realize why Marcus called her 'Trouble.'
“But we did nothing wrong,” Uther said simply. Ellis nodded beside him.
“I didn’t do anything in the first place,” he added. Marcus put up a hand to still the two.
“It’s not my call guys. But I will give you some breathing room now and again. Just ask me.” He’d talked at length with the Council about the entire incident, but they were immovable on the subject. They had said it was for purposes of dispelling any fear about the Un’Hok Tol, but Marcus wasn’t so sure that was the case.
“They want to keep an eye on us,” Uther said soberly. Marcus looked at Uther and frowned. His voice sounded cryptic.
“Would make it easier than spying on us, wouldn’t it?” Ellis muttered, confirming what Uther had revealed.
“What’re you guys talking about?” Ian asked from the side. The two looked around, realizing that the adults in the room hadn’t the foggiest idea what they were referring to. Uther breathed in slightly. He knew it fell to him to explain.
“I have sensed a presence watching Ellis and I. Strong, elusive and malignant. Whoever it is watches quietly. They do not seem to interfere with us as I have noticed. But they do bear an evil albeit mysterious intent. Neither one of us seems to be able to find this person. If it is just one.” Marcus listened to Uther’s explanation, and waited a long, silent moment before he spoke. Sage was listening intently also. He jotted something down on his pad and resumed his math.
“So we’ve got a spy,” Marcus mumbled. The statement was so quiet, Marcus almost felt like he hadn’t said it.
“Someone who can move almost undetected around the campus.” Donavan didn’t sound too happy about that. But it did seem to fit with what he was searching for.
“If we’ve got someone here who’s posing as a paladin on campus, maybe they have a Falseblade,” Mary said, tearing into the book in front of her. Marcus’s eyes widened. Even Sage looked up in surprise.
“A Falseblade?” Rebekah said it in unison with Marcus and Sage.
“That would mean we have a Manticore on campus,” Ian added. "Worse." Aiko didn’t seem to understand.
“Manticore?” she asked. Marcus volunteered to answer.
“Specially trained Dread Paladins. The Paladins have the Headmen, who are the elite of our numbers. They are our generals in a sense. They represent the twelve Luminaires of ancient days, and are standard bearers until the Luminaires are redeemed. The Manticores are the Elite Guard of the Innova. Each one excelling in one particular discipline of magic. Each is identified by a special codename, and each remains unidentified by the world.” Aiko hadn’t ever heard of anything like that.
“And Manticores carry Falseblades?” Ellis asked. Marcus gave a cursory nod.
“Each one has a different blade, which is the symbol of their discipline and the seat of their power,” Marcus said. “There are only thirteen Falseblades in all the world. The Innovan High Prelate wields the chief blade. The other Falseblades are inferior to and slave to the chief blade.” Mary nodded her approval of Marcus’s facts.
“We’re working under the assumption that Donavan’s specter is the wraith of a Falseblade.” Marcus didn’t like the sound of that. “All the facts seem to add up to that conclusion.” Sage chortled a little from the side of the room.
“That’s a bad assumption kid.” Mary looked up from her book, thrown by the challenge Sage was posing. “You assume that A is one and B is two. And in assuming that, the answer is assumed to be three. And since the facts plug into your theory very simply, you just do the math. You don’t know if your theory is correct though. If you get the formula wrong, or the arithmetic is off, your assumption might well blow up in your face.” Sage looked down again at his pad, his face looking strained as he tried to reason out his own problems.
“He’s right,” Donavan said finally. “We have to be sure of our facts first.”
“But it’s a good working theory at the moment. And it'll definitely keep us on our toes.” Marcus unfolded his arms and stepped into their midst. “I’m telling you guys this because I trust you all. And if this is as serious as it seems, then I’m going to need help. I need to know you guys are with me.” The room was a series of nods after a moment. Marcus took that as affirmative and breathed a little easier.
“What do we do now Marcus?” Ian asked. Marcus glanced at Ian and smiled.
“We put on a real good show,” Rebekah said, twiddling her hair innocently.
Chapter 15
Harmless Conversation
Ian sat back against the root of an old pine, shaking his head in disbelief. It wasn’t that he really expected anything different from Rebekah. By now, a crazy plan from her was a forgone conclusion. He just wasn’t sure that what Marcus and Rebekah had cooked up was the best idea.
The Quad was a bustle of excitement as Rebek
ah stepped into the spotlight to announce her eligibility for the Power Tumbler Event. Aiko stood by, leaning rather casually on the same tree, watching the entire event play out. Rebekah masterfully played the crowd, almost making it seem like her entry into the Peace Games was a public service.
“Is she always this. . . animated?” Aiko asked quietly, folding her arms. She wasn't sure she'd chosen the right word, but Aiko stuck with it. Ian looked up and snorted.
“Only when she’s obsessed about something. Or when she’s trying to deflect attention. Sometimes when she’s nervous.” Aiko nodded. “The only time I’ve really seen her THIS animated though, is when she’s mad.” The scene wasn’t similar to anything that Aiko knew from home. The Shindoka didn’t generally deal with the media. It was their policy that what happened in Eriko was Erikan business. The media's opinions and those of other countries were not terribly important. And rather than have every decision questioned by a ravenous news outlet before it could be enacted into law, the Shindoka kept all business internal.
“So, do you always agree to Marcus’s plans so readily?” she asked after a brief pause. Ian looked up, amused and surprised.
“He is my mentor. Besides, I don’t see things the way he does. I have to trust that foresight of his.” Aiko nodded a little.
“He does have a strange clarity of vision that I am not accustomed to. His ability is without any hint of ego, which is not normal in Eriko. Even if what he suggests is strange to the mind, it somehow works for him.” Ian had to agree.
“That’s what I mean. He sees things in a way I wish I could.” Ian took a breath. “I think, if people knew what it was he saw, they’d want to see it too. It's hard to explain, Marcus may seem unorthodox, but he's usually right.” Aiko glanced down at him, drawing her attention away from the din before her and trying to drink in his thoughts. Ian didn’t look at her. His own statement distracted him.
The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade Page 26
