Lockhart's Confirmation (Vespari Lockhart Book 2)

by J. Stone

  Wynonna then pulled the blade out, restoring Corrigan’s life. She slid the knife into him again; she pulled it out. The process went on for what felt like forever, until the door creaked open, and she jerked herself free from the dreamscape. Looking around, she found that she still sat on that bench, rolling the silver round over her knuckles. Petronila was gone, and she was once more free of her rotten dreamscape. Looking up from the coin, she saw Spencer walking toward her, his hands in his pockets.

  “Well?” Wynonna asked, shaking off the dream, putting the coin away, and standing up from the bench.

  “Hard to say,” Spencer replied with a shrug. “They all seemed a bit hesitant, but they agreed to meet with you at least.”

  “Right now?”

  The librarian nodded and pointed back the way he came. “They’re waiting for you in their chamber.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  He shook his head. “No, but either way, you should come by the library after and tell me how things went. Good luck, Wynonna.”

  “Thanks, Spencer.” She took a deep breath, walked past him, and grabbed the knob of the door he’d just come through.

  Walking in, Wynonna found herself in a round room illuminated by dozens of candles in sconces along the walls. In the middle of the room, set a large round table and three chairs, but no one occupied them. Instead, three men stood on the opposite side of the table as Wynonna and examined her as she entered. Closing the door behind her, the vespari approached them and leaned forward on the back of one of the chairs.

  Not sure what she should say, she just decided to introduce herself. “I’m uh… Wynonna… Lockhart.”

  “We know who you are,” one of the men replied.

  This vespari elder had a dark brown, tan complexion. It was darker than Wynonna’s but not quite black like Corrigan’s had been. He clothed himself primarily in wools of greens and browns. A dark green scarf wrapped several times around his neck, and he wore at least three different layers of clothes from what Wynonna could see. He looked simple but fierce at the same time. His dark but greying hair crept back from his forehead, threatening baldness, but he maintained a full beard and mustache. Reaching from the corner of his upper lip all the way to his ear, he had a wide gash of a scar, long since healed but still looking quite painful. He wore no weapons on his persons, which made her wonder if these elders were all but retired.

  “And you are?” she demanded, her prickly nature overshadowing her insecurities.

  “Hildebrand said she had a mouth,” a different one said to the others. “Looks like he was right.”

  This next elder had a similarly dark complexion to that of Corrigan. He even looked about the same age, which made him younger than the other two. He wore a long, dark yellow coat, and he stuffed his hands into his black pants pockets. He was completely but intentionally bald, and he had a thin mustache. His eyebrows were very thick and arched up, making him seem permanently perturbed. Similar to the former elder, this one had scars on his face, but none was as extreme as the gash his counterpart had. This elder too had no gun hanging from his belt, nor did any other weapon appear on his body.

  “You talked to Ernest?” she asked.

  “We did,” the first one said. “We’re to understand you attacked him?”

  “He insulted me,” Wynonna replied, folding her arms at her chest and shifting her weight to one foot.

  “It is true that Hildebrand can be abrasive, but that is no excuse to attack a fellow vespari.”

  “According to you, I’m not a vespari yet, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “Mm,” he muttered, giving her a dismissive look.

  The third elder, who had thus far remained silent, decided now to speak up, turning to the other two men. “Perhaps we should not be so quick to dismiss her, brothers.”

  This last vespari elder looked the oldest of the three by some years and had a pale complexion. His hair no longer retained any hint of its youthful color, and it existed only in a few scarce regions - right at the top of his head and then in wild tufts just above his ears. He wore a simple white shirt, rolled up to his elbows with a blue vest over it. This elder was also much heavier than the others, having a large potbelly rolling out over his pants. In one hand, he gripped his belt, while in the other he balanced himself on a cane. And just the same as the others, he carried no weapon from what she saw. Unlike his counterparts, this portly man smiled at her and looked far friendlier than the other elders.

  Continuing and turning to Wynonna the elder said, “My name is Nicolae Kincaid.” He gestured to the bald elder in the dark yellow coat. “This is Albert Bowater.” Pointing to the vespari in layers of wool, he said, “And finally, Ambrose Dowd. We make up the vespari elders here in the Black Tea Tower.”

  “Alright,” Wynonna replied. “So, what now?”

  “Now,” Ambrose began, “we decide if you are worthy for confirmation.”

  “Spencer said something about some challenges.”

  “If one of us decides to sponsor you, yes.”

  “And how do we go about that?”

  “Why don’t we start with a few simple questions,” Nicolae suggested to his fellows.

  “Very well,” Ambrose said.

  “So, what do you want to know?” Wynonna asked, shifting her weight.

  “Let’s start with the basics,” Nicolae began. “Your name is Lockhart. That means Corrigan trained you. Is that correct?”

  “He did.”

  “What did he teach you?”

  Wynonna shrugged. “He gave me his journal. I’ve read it through twice over now. It had information on all his kills, and how he dispatched them.”

  “Is that it?” Ambrose asked.

  “No. He told me about the runes. He took me on more than a few kills. He tattooed me. He--”

  “Corrigan gave you the tattoos?” Bowater asked, shaking his head. “You haven’t earned them.”

  Wynonna pointed at the elder. “You have no idea what I’ve earned.”

  Bowater rolled his eyes. “You have done nothing--”

  “Stop it, Albert,” Nicolae said, smiling at Wynonna. “She is right. We don’t know what she’s gone through. Corrigan, whatever else he may have been, he was a good vespari. We have to trust him.”

  “That deviant?” Bowater asked, spitting on the ground. “I will do no such thing.”

  Wynonna started around the round table toward the elder. “You shut your mouth! No one talks about Cory that way!”

  “Just as impudent as he was,” Bowater shot back with a smile.

  “Stop it!” Ambrose told them both, moving between them. “This is no way to behave.”

  “He was a criminal,” Bowater continued. “He was banished to the desert for a reason. Why should we even humor this nonsense?”

  “What? Cory didn’t do anything!”

  He laughed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, girl.”

  “Albert,” Ambrose said. “Enough.”

  Bowater snorted but relented, while Wynonna continued to glare past Ambrose at Bowater.

  “It’s alright, Wynonna,” Nicolae told her. “Just answer our questions, and we’ll get through this.”

  “Where is Corrigan now?” Ambrose asked, moving things along.

  Wynonna turned around and returned to the other side of the table. “He’s dead.”

  “How did he die?”

  The vespari looked down at the table, thinking on just how much to tell them. “A… coven of beldams, influenced by a soul eater marked him with the Caustic Brand.”

  “What became of the coven?” Nicolae asked.

  “Together, we killed them. I finished it after his death.”

  “I see. Speaking of which, what have you killed?” the portly elder asked.

  Wynonna folded her arms at her chest and shifted her weight to one foot, growing more and more unhappy with the idea of proving herself to these vespari. “In addition to the beldams and soul eater, I ki
lled some ghouls, a dracmoloch, an ettin, and a revenant.”

  Bowater looked somewhat surprised. He covered this up with condescension. “But with Corrigan’s help, I take it? Not on your own?”

  Wynonna took a moment to glare at him before answering. “The whole time I was with Cory, he had the Caustic Brand. He was out of commission for several of the kills. The dracmoloch and the soul eater I took down entirely on my own. We worked together on the rest.”

  “The girl’s not ready,” Bowater said with a sneer.

  “You don’t know the first thing about me!” Wynonna told him.

  “I know your master. That he chose you makes you unworthy of our brotherhood.”

  Wynonna tightened her hands into fists, but before she could say anything further, Nicolae said, “Perhaps, we should stick to questions, Albert.”

  “Fine,” the rude elder replied, glaring at her. “I have a question. One I’m sure we’re all thinking.”

  “Yes?” Wynonna asked, with a deep sigh.

  “How can we trust a girl not to be ruled by her innate hysteria and irrationality?” Bowater asked, an all too serious expression on his face.

  “I’m sure I’ve heard dumber questions,” Wynonna began, pretending to think, “but they’re just not coming to me right now.”

  “Careful,” Ambrose told her.

  Wynonna glared at Bowater. “Don’t worry. My delicate and unstable woman parts won’t get in the way of pointing and pulling a trigger.”

  “The girl only proves my point,” Bowater replied. “She isn’t one of us. She isn’t ready.”

  “Loathe as I am to agree with Albert,” Ambrose began, “I think he may be right. Your master does not seem to have passed on his composed nature. You are too hot-headed.”

  Wynonna gritted her teeth but forced herself to stay quiet.

  “I am done with her,” Bowater said. “I will not sponsor this girl’s confirmation.”

  Ambrose sighed, folded his arms at his chest and nodded. “Nor will I.”

  A silence filled the room as all eyes turned to Nicolae, the only remaining elder who hadn’t made his decision. He rubbed his finger and thumb through his beard and narrowed his eyes, examining Wynonna. She had never been as uncomfortable as she was in that room. She just wanted him to say no, so she could leave. She never wanted so badly to just turn and run away. The moments seemed to drag on, but eventually Nicolae spoke.

  “I think she shows promise,” the portly elder said with a soft smile.

  “What?” Bowater asked with his typical sneer. “Are you serious?”

  “I believe I am,” Nicolae said, his smile growing.

  Ambrose turned to him and asked, “Then, you will sponsor Wynonna?”

  “I will.”

  “So be it,” he said. “She is now your responsibility.”

  Nicolae nodded. “We must discuss how to test her.”

  “Wynonna,” Ambrose said. “Please return to the hall. We will alert you when we have decided on your first challenge.”

  A little scared to say another word and mess everything up, Wynonna just nodded, turned, and exited the room.

  ***

  Wynonna sat out on that bench for another hour before all three of the elders exited their chambers. Both Ambrose and Bowater turned in opposite directions, while Nicolae approached her. Seeing him coming, she stood up and nodded at him.

  “So?” she asked. “What’s the deal?”

  “We have decided on a first challenge for you,” Nicolae replied.

  “Which is?”

  “Given that you have the tattoos, I presume that Corrigan also had you recite the vespari oath?”

  Wynonna nodded. “He did.”

  “Well, we take the oath and its implications very seriously. Those who break it must face punishment.”

  She narrowed her eyes, unsure what he was talking about. “Okay?”

  Nodding toward where Ambrose had wandered off, Nicolae continued, “Elder Dowd had an apprentice until recently. I’m afraid that after much deliberation, it has been decided that he has officially broken his oath.”

  Wynonna said nothing, simply studying the portly man’s face.

  “I hate that it has come to this, but Ambrose has decided that his apprentice must be killed.”

  “What?” she asked. “You’re going to kill him because he stopped being a vespari?”

  “Not me. You.”

  “You want me to kill a man? I’m all for killing monsters, but I’m not a murderer.”

  “Being a vespari is a lifelong commitment. If we confirm you, that is something you must understand. Like I said, we do not take our oath lightly.”

  Wynonna nodded. “I understand, but… is murdering this guy really going to help anyone?”

  “I understand your hesitation, Wynonna, but if you want to proceed with the confirmation, you will have to kill this oathbreaker and return with evidence.”

  The vespari considered Nicolae’s words. She thought about what Corrigan would do, what he would think of all this. She didn’t know, but this confirmation had been what he wanted for her. She would at least try.

  “Alright,” she finally replied. “Who is he?”

  “Rohan Dowd. He was last spotted in the old town square near the astrological clock.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “And what?” Nicolae asked.

  “Well, I’m not exactly from here. I’m supposed to just divine where this place is myself?”

  Nicolae smiled. “We will have to work on your attitude, I see.”

  Wynonna shifted and folded her arms at her chest with a little groan. She thought about apologizing, but the words just didn’t come to her lips. He saw it on her face all the same.

  “You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with a fiery spirit; I just hope we can learn to aim it at the monsters instead of each other.” After a pause, he continued, “And, yes. I can give you a map of the city. You should be able to find your way around with it.”

  “What about this Rohan himself? How will I know him?”

  Gesturing toward the stairs down, Nicolae said, “I believe Spencer can help with that.”

  Walking alongside the elder down the stairs, she asked, “How so?”

  “Spencer serves not only as our librarian and keeper of knowledge but also as our internal historian. Whenever we bring in a new vespari, he sketches their portrait for his records. I believe Rohan’s portrait should prove sufficient for your needs.”

  “Hm,” she replied, her mind circling back to what she would have to do to this man she’d never even met.

  Nicolae left her to her thoughts in peace, and as they arrived at the base level of the tower, he turned and entered the library, holding the door open for her to follow. Walking in behind him, Wynonna soon saw the wide, smiling face of Spencer.

  “Is Wynonna going to be a vespari?” he immediately asked.

  “That remains to be seen,” Nicolae replied. “But for the time being, I have decided to sponsor her.”

  “Excellent,” Spencer said. Grabbing both her shoulders and giving her something of a shake, he asked, “Isn’t that great?”

  She nodded through the jerks, prying his hands off her shoulders. “Sure, great, but I still have to prove myself.”

  “Right,” he said, turning to Nicolae. “And how will she do that?”

  “Rohan Dowd,” the portly elder replied.

  All enthusiasm slipped from Spencer’s face. “Oh. I see.”

  “For starters, she will need a map of Alexandria.”

  Spencer started to turn, saying, “Sure, I can do that.”

  “And Rohan’s sketch,” Nicolae added.

  “Right. Of course. I’ll be right back.” Spencer then disappeared deeper into the library, leaving Wynonna and the elder at the entrance.

  “How am I supposed to do this?” Wynonna asked.

  “Do what?”

  She thought it obvious. “Kill him. How can you be so unconcerned about i
t?”

  Nicolae took a heavy breath and nodded. “None of us are eager to lose a member of the brotherhood, but we have a code to live by. Rohan turned his back on us. He has given up on our mission.”

  Wynonna shrugged. “But, it’s not as though he’s working against you. Do none of us deserve to put down the gun after a time? Do we not get a happy ending?”

  Nicolae shifted on the spot. “Wynonna, if you seek a happy ending, I’m afraid you will be disappointed with this life.”

  She shook her head. “I know I’m not going to find one, but I’d like to think that other people could have one.”

  The portly elder peered at her. “You never mentioned how Corrigan found you. Why did he select you as his apprentice?”

  “Yes, I’d like to know that as well,” Spencer said, returning with two sheets of yellowed paper.

  Wynonna snatched them both from his hand, happy to have an excuse not to answer. Looking at the first piece of paper, she saw the sketch of the man in question.

  “This is Rohan?” she asked.

  Spencer nodded. “It is. I drew that over five years ago, but he hasn’t changed much since then.”

  The man in the picture had a beard and long hair, tied back behind his head. A single scar ran just beside his left eye, but he had no other obviously discernible injuries. On the whole, Wynonna thought him to be quite attractive. The idea of killing him further discouraged her now that she saw him. Now that this name had a face as well. Unwilling to look at it any further, Wynonna slipped it behind the second sheet of paper.

  “That is a largely current map of the city,” Spencer explained, as she peered over it.

  Wynonna traced her finger, trying to locate the astrological clock Nicolae had mentioned and eventually found it at the north of the map. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “I guess I can figure it out from here.”

  “Thank you, Spencer,” Nicolae said.

  The librarian nodded, as the elder vespari showed Wynonna back out to the tower’s entrance.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with before you go?” he asked her.

  Wynonna looked up from the papers, then folded them, and shoved them in her pocket. “Actually, I could use some bullets. I’m totally out.”