Shatter (The Children of Man)

by Elizabeth C. Mock

  “What can we do to help?” Layton asked. He was a practical man who looked for practical solutions to any problem placed in front of him. “What do you require of us, Scion Segar?”

  “Your willingness to aid in this crisis is exactly why I called you all here tonight,” Tomas said with an appreciative smile.

  Rivka stepped forward and placed a hand gently on Tomas' arm. “Tomas, might I address the assembly?”

  Nodding, Tomas patted her hand and stepped back yielding her the floor. “We covet your wisdom and experience at a time of such great loss, Rivka.”

  As he retreated back, his eyes scanned the room. By each exit stood one of his Daniyelans, his personal guard. He shifted his eyes to the man nearest to Rivka. The man's hand slid along the grip of his curved, long knife, but otherwise made no other indication that he noticed Tomas.

  “Council members of Nabos,” Rivka said in a quiet yet strong voice, “I wish I knew you all, but it has been many generations since I have visited your lovely city. But what brings me here tonight is of the highest import and cannot be done in secret.” Rivka's eyes carried a deep pain, which she allowed the gathered men and women to see before the backs of her hands began to flicker with sapphire light. “Tonight, you all bear witness, because I have come to bring a traitor to justice.”

  The murmuring rose again at her words. Tomas merely raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but gave no other reaction.

  “As the Scion of the Nikelan Order, I have been given the sacred responsibility of guarding the Orders purity and peace. The Orders have been violated and perverted by the taint of the Brethren.”

  The faces around her nodded as they agreed with her assessment given what they had just learned about the Tereskan attack. For a reason Marion could not name, her gaze settled on Tomas, not on Rivka as she continued her speech.

  “I have also been entrusted with the burden of a particular and unique authority in order to execute my duties. It is the right to revoke the office of another Scion.” She paused as she made eye contact with each council member in turn. “Tonight, I have come to Lanvirdis to nullify Tomas Segar’s claim to the seat of the Scion of the Daniyelan Order.”

  The general calm that had descended upon the room under Rivka's steady influence shattered like glass as the assembly broke out in the clamor of dissenting voices. Though the council members were taken off guard, none of Tomas' men even twitched a single muscle at her pronouncement, but even their calm seemed thin and stretched when compared to the placid expression on Tomas' face.

  Beneath that expression, however, his mind worked to transform this development to an advantage. He had suspected this outcome when his men had reported that Vaughn had been seen in the city and Tomas had prepared.

  While everyone shouted questions at Rivka, Tomas flicked his wrist and locked gazes with Marion. Shadows covered his eyes for a heartbeat before clearing. Marion pushed back her seat at the council table and descended to the floor as if to speak with Rivka. For a woman her age, she presented an impressive and striking figure as she approached Nikela’s Oracle.

  "Scion, what proof do you have of this treason?” Marion asked folding her arms across her chest. "Why bring this to us?"

  "This treason is against the Orders, not the Nabosian council," Rivka answered with unquestionable authority. "You are merely here to bear witness to the action. You have no voice in this decision. I have chosen you as witnesses merely for the sake of expediency. This matter must be closed before any more treachery is turned against our brothers and sisters."

  Marion pushed back a stray lock of hair behind her ear and nodded, unhappy and not entirely appeased, but she did not press the matter further. Rivka turned to finally look at Tomas. She held her palms out, the intricate lines of blue on the backs of her hands shone bright.

  Her lips pressed together. "Tomas, you stand as a usurper to the seat of Scion." Her gaze was hard as she compartmentalized the pain of the slaughter she had failed to stop. "You have perverted justice to serve your own ends. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

  "You must be mistaken, Rivka," he said in a slow voice. He looked over her shoulder and gave a nearly imperceptible smile. "I could never betray the Orders. I am but a servant for the good of all."

  Rivka brought her arms up and out to her sides until they were parallel with the ground. Blue light began to flow from her hands and eyes until her entire body was bathed in the sapphire glow. She looked down at Tomas.

  Her voice taking on several ranges at once spoke with a single resonant unity that echoed to the ceiling of the marble chamber. "Tomas Segar, you have betrayed the children entrusted to your care. You are the guardian of justice, yet you would destroy innocent lives to achieve your aims, to destroy those you have sworn to protect."

  She opened her mouth to continue, but before she could, Marion was at her back. Her black, curly hair flowed unbound around her shoulders and the needles that had held her hair in place flashed in her hand.

  Before anyone could even speak, Marion thrust one between Rivka’s ribs piercing her heart. The blue light surrounding Rivka flickered and flared. Marion screamed only once as the fire touched her and the woman who had stood her ground against the intrigues of the Merchant Houses for thirty years fell to ash in a matter of moments.

  Rivka stood frozen, suspended within the column of light as the blood spread down her chest. Vaughn ran toward Rivka, but the shaft of light engulfing her repelled him. He reached a hand slowly toward her, pressing it against the resistance of the column. Feeling his touch, Rivka lowered her head and her pained eyes locked with Vaughn’s. The blue lines cuffing his wrists glowed. Reaching out her fingertips, she touched them to his palm and the light suddenly vanished. They both fell to the floor, limp and lifeless with a cracking thud.

  Wes blinked staring at the pile of dust on the marble that had been Marion. Near the pile, one of the silver needles that Wes had admired rolled along the floor. It stopped when it hit Rivka’s bent wrist that had broken when she fell. It had all taken only a few heartbeats. One moment Vaughn stood next to her watching Tomas as Rivka made her accusations. Now their bodies sprawled across the mosaic, smearing the stones with their blood. There had been no warning. They were gone. Vaughn was gone.

  "No," Wes said under her breath staring at Vaughn's body.

  He lay with his hand nearly brushing his lady's. Where the blood stained the back of her dress, an identical stain seeped through the thick fabric of his riding cloak. The blood just kept spreading.

  Wes shook her head. "No, he ain’t dead. He can’t be."

  She stumbled over to his side. Skidding to her knees with a shocking jar as she hit the slick marble, she rolled him over and slapped his cheek. Sightless blue eyes looked up at her.

  "Vaughn, wake up. You need to get up.” She shook his shoulders gently at first, but when he didn’t stir, she shook harder. “Vaughn!" His name came out in a choked cry.

  Letting his shoulders go, she snapped her head up at Tomas with hatred burning in her eyes. "You," she hissed. "You done this."

  "Child, you must be delirious with grief," Tomas told her with sympathy. "To think Marion Lowe was part of the cabal that planned the attack in Kilrood. I know she has a rather ruthless reputation, but I never would have suspected her capable of this."

  "Aw, no you don’t. I seen you," Wes said clambering to her feet. Her eyes were wild, past caring. "Right before she stabbed Mistress Rivka. You made her do it. You pointed at her, yeah? I seen you. I seen people do magic before."

  Layton stood clearing his throat. "I saw it too, miss. You did something to Marion, Segar. She was a crafty old bat. She wouldn’t’ve ever done something like that. No profit in it. Scion Rivka was right. You're with the Brethren."

  There were murmurs of agreement throughout the council chamber. Though the Nikelan Scion had not visited Lanvirdis in living memory, the trustworthiness of the Nikelans stood above reproach. Despite the fact that Rivka lay dead, her
body growing colder every moment, her words continued to sear themselves into each of the council members' minds.

  Tomas sighed. "I had hoped it wouldn't go this way. It truly grieves me that this is your decision. But I can't have Rivka and Vaughn's sacrifice be in vain."

  He raised his hand and snapped his fingers and the sounds of crossbows releasing echoed across the room. Wes flattened against the ground at the twang of the first release. A bolt buried into his neck, Layton Norris pitched forward over the council table and onto the floor. Screams rose and faded throughout the room as each council member met their death.

  Her cheek pressed into the icy marble, Wes kept her eyes shut as she heard the thunk of bolts hitting their marks and the silence that inevitably followed. When the last gurgled cry ended, she opened her eyes. Shoes waited directly in front of her. When she looked up, she saw Tomas looking down at her, his hands behind his back.

  "I know just what to do with you, my dear," Tomas said tapping this thumb against his chin. "I would hate for any more blood to be spilled today. But I can't have you running around telling tales."

  Tomas turned to the Daniyelan who stood at his back. The man had jet-black hair and equally dark eyes. It was the same man who had led Marion to her death.

  "She looks enough like Deoraghan stock for Victor to take her."

  Without further consideration, Tomas walked away from Wes who still lay on the floor just inches from Rivka and Vaughn's bodies.

  He looked around the room at the carnage of bodies hideously slumped across the table, the seats, the stairs. "Such a waste," he said shaking his head as he exited the room.

  The black-haired man hooked the crossbow back onto his belt. "Get up," he commanded her.

  Wes' instincts had kept her alive this long. She knew when to fight, when to run, and when to shut her mouth and do as she was told. Scrambling to her feet, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and met the man's gaze. His dark eyes focused on her, but seemed to look through her, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

  He took Wes' upper arm and led her out of the room. As they passed Rivka and Vaughn, their bodies looked like broken dolls sprawled on the ground as if abandoned by a bored child. Wes had seen death before, but this room was choked with it. It had all happened so fast.

  Wes’ feet shuffled as the Daniyelan man pulled her through the streets away from the keep. He had to yank her arm painfully to keep her from falling several times, but she barely noticed. Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was the look of shocked pain on Vaughn’s face when the woman had stabbed Rivka. Even when she kept them open the image of his empty face staring past her floated in her mind.

  Wes didn't remember how they left the keep, but soon the black-haired man had taken her to the western gate of the city. The smell of old, sun-baked milk, dust, and dried sweat mixed together in the alley they passed. Near the gate sat an inn, an inn with a reputation that made Wes avoid this part of town and with good reason.

  When she recognized the inn, the Last Bet, her dream-like trance vanished as though she had fallen into Diarmid Bay in winter. She stopped walking and the man tugged her arm.

  "Come now, girl. Don't give me any troubles now," the man warned in a pleasant voice that promised very unpleasant things should she prove uncooperative. "Be a good girl."

  Wes shook her head, the panic and fear from the ambush finally set in as she realized her own peril. "No, I ain't going in there. I ain't for sale."

  "Don't make this any more difficult for yourself," he said with gentle regret as he wrenched her arm forcing her to walk or be dragged. He didn’t seem to care which it would be.

  Wes braced her stance and pulled against his grip. The man sighed and reached to pick her up, which was exactly what she had hoped he would do. As he turned to face her, she brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she could manage. It loosened his grip enough for her to rip her arm out of his grasp.

  She pushed against his chest hard and ran for the gate. Sticking to the shadows, she ran as fast as she could in the dim light wavering from the western gatehouse. She was close. If she could make it to the gate, she might be able to escape.

  Slowing her run, she stole a look behind her and prepared to make her dash for the gate. She turned back and standing directly in her path was the black-haired man. She cursed colorfully and none too quietly and ran. But as she ran, she felt her legs lock as though bound with ropes. Before she could cry out, she fell and hit the ground. She tried to move, but her limbs didn’t respond. She was paralyzed.

  She heard the slow deliberate scrape of the man's boots on the cobblestones as he made his way toward her. Her heart pounded in her ears.

  He knelt down and sighed again. "Why did you have to make this difficult?"

  He scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. He entered the smoke-filled inn and asked a question of the barkeep that motioned him upstairs. Wes whimpered as the man climbed the creaking and warped stairs. He walked down the narrow hall and pounded on a door. A growling bark of curses answered him telling him to leave. The man sighed and kicked in the door. There were high-pitched shrieks from the inside, but slung over his shoulder, Wes couldn’t see the source of the screams.

  "Who in the bleeding name of darkness do you think you are bursting in here?" a deep male voice demanded and stopped. "Oh, I didn't realize it was you, ser."

  "We need you to make a problem go away," the black-haired man said with a sneer of contempt as he sat Wes in a chair. The invisible force binding her was released. The man didn't look at her, but referred to her. "This little wretch will try to run. See that she does not. You are not to sell her anywhere near Lanvirdis. Is that clear?"

  "Aye, ser," the man Wes assumed was Victor said.

  He was bald, though not from age. He had a compact build with a set of matching scars on his shoulders and stood beside the occupied bed that had clearly been in use only moments ago. A redheaded woman and a blonde woman hid under the blankets.

  "She should fetch a good price in Finalaran. They like them young there."

  The black-haired man gave Victor a look of disgust before slamming the door behind him as he left. Her eyes searching the room, Wes tried to figure out how long she would have to wait before the Daniyelan would be gone.

  There was a window on the other side of the room with gaudy red lace curtains blowing in the slight night breeze. Thinking back to the stairs, she figured they couldn’t be any higher than the second story. She had jumped from higher before and still managed to run several blocks after the impact.

  Victor sauntered over to Wes to inspect his new merchandise. To get a better look at her, he reached a scarred and callused hand to lift her chin. Wes kept her mouth shut. He lifted her wrist to get a look at her body. She could feel blood in her mouth from biting down on the inside of her cheek.

  Victor grunted. "Too skinny and them Daniyelans did a number on the face. That'll drive the price down." He reached a hand to feel her ribs and she threw her free fist into his jaw. He absorbed the punch and looked down at her seething face. He laughed. "But the spunk might appeal to certain customers. Right then."

  He went to a heavy canvas bag lying on the table. Throwing open the top, he removed a set of interconnected wrist and leg shackles. They clattered as he walked back to her. Grabbing Wes' wrists, he looked at her eyes for the first time. She felt a tingle run across the surface of her skin.

  "Don't think you can run just because the Daniyelan is gone. Either we use these or I break your legs now. Make no mistake, you belong to me and no one steals what’s mine, especially not you."

  *****

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "Blast it, Kade," Sheridan said staring at him from across the hallway. "What am I supposed to think?"

  Kade laid his head back against the wall. He still felt stretched like a wrung out dishrag. "They didn't recruit me, Sheridan. I told you already."

  "Then how," she demanded waving her hand at
his now silver eyes, "how is this possible?"

  "It’s not that hard to understand,” he answered. “I used black magic.”

  Sheridan put her head in her hands and screamed into them before pushing her fingers into her hair. "I cannot do this again. I just can't. First, Evelyn lies to me every day for the last how-ever-many years, then she abandons me without a word to save that manipulative blighter – again. Now this. Don't you do this to me too." Sheridan's eyes pleaded with him. She was close to cracking. "Not you too, Kaedman."

  "A week ago, yesterday even," Kade began unapologetic, "I would have told you that I would do what I did again in a heartbeat."

  He stopped, the edges of his voice breaking. Then the hardness returned to his eyes, hardness that held back something else. Sheridan was unsure what he hid, but with all that had happened this withholding of information stung like a slap. But Faela, she dreaded what waited behind that barrier.

  "What's so different about today?" Sheridan demanded, her patience utterly destroyed.

  "I am," he said with a quiet certainty. "Sheridan, you know that I killed Gareth. You just don't know how." He splayed his fingers against the tops of his thighs as he felt the tingle of his nerves reawakening in his legs.

  Sheridan folded her hands around her shins and waited for him to continue. She feared that if she spoke he would redirect her back into his hall of rhetorical smoke and mirrors.

  Looking at the inconsistent thickness of the glass at the bottom of the high window, he steeled his nerves. "When I realized Nessa was gone, I tracked Gareth and when I caught him I trapped him within a locking spell. He didn't even have a chance to fight back or run. He deserved to die for what he had done to Nessa, so I turned his own magic against him. I let him know what it felt like to be trapped and helpless."

  He lowered his eyes to Sheridan. "But I knew that a normal locking wouldn't work on him. I didn't know how far he had gone into the darkness, but I couldn't take any chances. So I had to cut off his magic, the only way I knew would guarantee the locking would hold. There was no other choice. I had to."