Shifting Isles Box Set (Books 1-3): The Prisoner, S.P.I.R.I.T. Division, and Return to Tanas

by G. R. Lyons

  “Worse,” her father said pointedly at the air, reaching into the display case.

  “I heard that,” Vorena said, her voice coming from behind them. Saira whirled around and the ghost vanished again.

  Benash laughed, shaking his head, and Saira followed him up to the register, where a young woman was adjusting a display on the counter.

  “Good evening,” she said with a smile. “Can I help you find anything?”

  “No, just this, thank you,” Benash said, resting the vase on the counter and reaching for his wallet.

  Saira turned around and leaned back against the counter, looking around the shop while her father paid for his purchase.

  “Don't let me forget,” her father said to her as he collected his change. “Tomorrow, I need to send out a message to the other agencies, see if any of them know about that man who…you know.” He paused, and Saira nodded, knowing he was referring to her last vision. “I meant to do that today and got caught up in other things. We can't do an investigation, of course, but at least we can see if any contract mediation comes into play.”

  “Like if he was unrepresented and his death affected contracts with others,” Saira said.

  “Exactly.” He took his receipt and picked up the vase, nodding at the cashier. “Thank you.”

  “Um, sir,” the woman said, reaching hesitantly toward him. “If you don't mind, I couldn't help but overhear…You work for one of those defense agencies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could I…ask you a professional question? If it's not too much trouble.”

  “By all means.”

  Saira watched the girl, who was looking around nervously. She leaned closer and asked, “How can you tell if someone is suspicious?”

  “Suspicious?” her father asked. “How so?”

  “Well, I'm new to town, and we just opened up here, so I don't know many people, but there was a man in here earlier. He just…I'm not sure how to describe it. Have you ever met someone who was just…a little too charming?”

  Saira went still, watching her, and saw her father tense up beside her.

  “Go on,” her father said.

  “Well, he just…It was almost like he was coming on to me, but not quite,” the girl continued. “It's hard to describe. But he just gave me this weird vibe, you know? But he bought some flowers, and the whole time I was ringing him up, he was staring at the display case over there. I looked over to see if there was anything wrong with it, but it looked fine to me. But then, after he left, I went to get something out of the display for another customer, and there were two roses missing.”

  “Missing?” Benash asked.

  The girl nodded. “Just vanished. Right out of the vases. Two pink roses. And I know they were there. I'd just put that arrangement together myself a few hours before. But now they're just…gone.”

  Saira and her father shared a look, and Benash asked the cashier, “What did he buy?”

  “Just sunflowers and baby's breath,” the girl said with a shrug. “Said he was getting something to cheer up his grandmother in the hospital.”

  “Do you have a record of the sale?”

  “Just a ledger entry,” the girl said, tapping something on the register screen and turning the screen around to face them, showing the line item. “He paid in silver coin, so there was no need to take down his name and address.”

  “Do you have any video surveillance set up here?” Benash asked, looking up and checking the corners of the room for any signs of hidden cameras.

  “Yes, we do,” the girl said, brightening, and turned the screen back so she could punch through to their security database.

  Saira gasped in a breath, reaching out to brace herself against the counter.

  “Saira?” her father cried, whirling around and grabbing her by the shoulders.

  She leaned into him, trying to calm herself while a vision filled her mind. It was weak and broken, coming to her in fits and starts, but she felt a definite sense of determination layered with fear.

  “Who is it, Saira?” her father asked, shaking her. “Who?”

  The vision faded, and her chest heaved as the foreign fear gave way to her own.

  “Charlie…” she gasped. “Oh gods, Dad, it's Charlie.”

  “Here it is,” the cashier said, swinging the screen around again and showing them a video recording from earlier in the day. With the camera pointed downward from behind the cashier, they had a perfect view of the man buying a vase of sunflowers.

  “That's him,” Saira said breathlessly, taking a step back while reaching for her father. “Oh gods, that's him. That's Thayeron.”

  Her father pulled her close and tightened one arm around her while he grabbed his purchase, asking the cashier in a hurry, “Do you have anyone here with you?”

  The girl nodded. “My uncle is in the back, cleaning up for the night.”

  “Stay close by him, and double check the locks and your alarm tonight, just as a precaution.”

  She nodded rapidly again and followed them to the door, locking it behind them as they stepped back out into the cold.

  Saira got into the car, and her father set it on autopilot, programming the office as the destination, and immediately got on the radio.

  “Lani, it's Benash. Are you there?”

  “Here, Chief,” Lani's voice came through the radio.

  “Is anyone else still there?”

  Saira shut her eyes against the driving rain as the car sped through town.

  “Malrin, Lehinis, and a couple others, Chief.”

  “Good,” he barked. “Tell them to stay there, and suit up. We'll be there in a minute.”

  “Right away, Chief,” Lani said, and the radio went silent for several seconds before Lani's voice returned. “They're heading to the armory. Everything alright?”

  Saira met her father's eyes before he turned to the radio with a grim look on his face. “Crawford may be down.”

  “Shit,” Lani muttered. “Oops. Sorry, Chief.”

  “Just get everyone ready.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  The radio went silent, and Benash reached over and took Saira's hand.

  “It'll be alright,” he assured her.

  The car screeched into the company parking garage and wound down to idle mode. Saira followed her father inside, heading straight for the armory. Malrin, Lehinis, and three other officers were strapping on holsters and checking ammunition in their guns.

  Benash shrugged off his dinner jacket and grabbed a holster. “I want you to stay here,” he ordered her, “and make sure you lock the doors.”

  “I'm going with you,” Saira insisted, trying to fight down her trembling.

  “Saira–”

  “That's my husband he's got!” she yelled. “I'm not staying behind!”

  Her father paused in loading a fresh magazine into a gun, looking down at her.

  “Very well.” He slammed in the magazine, holstered the weapon, then did the same with another. “Let's go.”

  Back outside, the group piled into company cars and tore out onto the street, weaving their way through evening traffic while the rain continued to fall.

  Saira stared out the window, seeing nothing and trying to get her breathing under control.

  The cars came to a stop, and everyone darted into the apartment building, holding their guns ready as they ascended to Charlie's floor. Gathering on either side of the apartment door, Benash held up a gun and gave a signal.

  Unarmed, Saira hung back, but when they heard a crash from within, her father threw open the door, the men pouring into the apartment with their guns raised.

  “Clear, sir,” Malrin said. “There's no one here.”

  Saira crept into the apartment, joining the others as they checked the small rooms over again. A lamp lay broken on the floor, and a chair was shoved out of place, but there was no sign of body or blood or weapon anywhere to be found.

  “But they haven't been gone for long,”
Lehinis noted, nodding toward a window. Everyone turned and looked, and saw the distinct shape where a warm hand had pressed against the cold, rain-splattered glass.

  “Chief,” Malrin called. “You might wanna see this.”

  Saira whirled around and went to her father's side, looking at the table where Malrin pointed. There sat a vase of flowers, the very sunflower arrangement she'd just seen on a surveillance video, along with two pink roses that had gone missing from a display case and a few pansies that must have come from somewhere else.

  She gasped and took a step back.

  “Two victims,” she said, staring at the flowers. “Sunflowers for gunshot wounds, baby's breath for rape, pansies for strangulation…Oh, gods.”

  Her father pulled her against him as she fell to trembling and fighting tears.

  “We'll find him, Saira,” he said in a fierce whisper. “Seven be with us, we'll find him.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  Her father pulled back and looked down at her with a puzzled expression.

  “Two victims,” she said, nodding toward the flowers. “Thayeron means for me to find him before he kills Charlie.” She paused, staring at the two pink blooms. “He wants us both.”

  * * *

  CHARLIE BLINKED several times, trying to get his vision to focus while his head lolled. He could have sworn he was just in his apartment, running for the door and getting slammed into the wall instead, his hand slapping against the window as he caught himself, but now he was in a dark space with his hands bound behind his back. When he tried to shift his weight, his feet wouldn't move from where they were locked to the floor.

  He looked down and didn't see anything holding him, but every time he tried to move his legs, they wouldn't budge.

  “Well, well, well. Charlysteron Crawford.”

  Charlie looked up, the dark space around him not immediately recognizable, and out of the shadows, a man strode slowly toward him, a vicious grin on his face.

  “Thayeron Cryntz,” Charlie said, straightening up.

  Cryntz was remarkably changed from when they'd gone to school together. The sickly little boy had turned into a well-formed, almost handsome man, walking with his head held high and a look of supreme confidence in his eyes.

  “Look at you,” Cryntz said with an amused smile. “All dressed up for your death.”

  “Go to hell, Cryntz.”

  “And a mouth on him, too. I like it.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, I wish you would,” Cryntz said, winking at him before turning and pacing slowly before him from one side of the dimly lit space to the other. Charlie blinked, trying to make sense of where he was, but with the lights mostly out and piles of debris in the distance, he wasn't sure he quite believed he was where he thought he was. “So,” Cryntz went on, glancing over at him as he turned and strolled the other direction, “how long until that little wife of yours gets here, do you think?”

  “You just stay away from her,” Charlie growled.

  Cryntz turned to face him and clasped his hands. “And you're going to stop me precisely how?”

  Charlie struggled against his bonds and glared at the mage, who resumed his casual pacing.

  “I know you tried breaking through your own mental barriers to warn her,” Cryntz went on. “Not an easy thing for an Agori to do, but I suppose if you were desperate enough–”

  “Shut up, asshole.”

  Cryntz vanished and reappeared immediately before Charlie.

  “Make me,” Cryntz murmured, and walked away again, looking completely at ease. “I imagine she'll be sending in the cavalry here pretty soon, once they realize you're not home. I really do hope she comes along, though. It won't be nearly as much fun without her.”

  Charlie watched him, the mage looking almost bored as he strolled along, glancing up at the rain-soaked windows as lightning flashed outside.

  “Why in seven hells are you doing this?” Charlie asked, hoping to buy some time while he strained against his bonds.

  Cryntz came to a stop and raised his eyebrows at him.

  “Because I can.”

  Charlie snorted. “Just because you can hurt someone doesn't mean you should, idiot.”

  “Tell that to all the people who hurt me!” Cryntz roared, his calm expression giving way to a look of rage. “Tell that to my mother who abandoned me, my foster fathers who beat me, that Erosti whore who wouldn't even give me the time of day. You wouldn't know what it's like, Crawford. You always had friends. I had nothing.”

  “So?” Charlie spat. “That's no reason to kill them!”

  “What about all those boys who ganged up on me because I was weak?”

  “Typical schoolyard behavior. That's to be expected. People grow out of it.”

  “Girls who wouldn't date me–”

  “You're not supposed to be liked by everyone, Cryntz. Hells, by anyone. Just because you want someone to like you, doesn't mean they're required to.”

  “People who wouldn't give me jobs–”

  “Seven hells, are you really that stupid?” Charlie said with a laugh. “Even with all your cultural training on Jadu'n? A job is not a right, moron. If you're not qualified, you can't simply make someone hire you.”

  “Shut up!” Cryntz yelled, clenching his hands into fists and circling around him. “I had every right! No one ever gave me anything. I had to suffer and starve because no one would do anything for me.”

  “Suffer and starve,” Charlie muttered, turning his head to follow Cryntz as the mage moved around behind him. “Please. You were never without a home, never without food. I saw you at school, remember? Packed lunch every day, clean clothes to wear, a place to go home to at night. Just because someone wouldn't do your homework for you–”

  “Shut up!”

  “Just because you were too shy to stand up to bullies–”

  “I said, shut up!”

  “You had to become one yourself,” Charlie went on, whipping his head around as Cryntz passed behind him and came around his other side. “And then you were much worse to them than they ever were to you.”

  “Because they had everything I didn't!” Cryntz roared. “Money, health, strength, family. It wasn't fair!”

  “So instead of just improving yourself and rising up, you had to drag them all down?” Charlie yelled back.

  “I did improve myself! I have power now that you could never dream of possessing. Never again will I be weak or poor or–”

  “Poor?” Charlie cut him off. “You wanna talk about poor? I was out on the fucking streets, no food, no shelter, nothing to keep me out of the rain. At least you always had food, clothing, education, a place to live unless you ran away–”

  “And you turned into a little gutter rat criminal,” Cryntz taunted, appearing before him and waving a knife in his face before circling around him again.

  “You're right. I did. But I got caught, and I made amends. Went back to school. Improved myself for the sake of improving myself, not for the sake of being better than others. That's how it works on this Isle. If you want power so bad, why don't you just go to Ceynes, and court favor with the emperor there? I'm sure he could find you a nice position as one of his corrupt advisers. Or better yet, go to Indisar. You know how they treat their women there. I'm sure you'd enjoy that.”

  Cryntz came around to face him again and moved in close. “Oh, but Crawford, it's not the women I want.”

  Charlie flinched, frowning in confusion, and asked, “But what about all the women you raped before you killed them–”

  “Power, you fool! And control! Trust me, I took no pleasure from the act, other than to see those women break under the torture of it. There's nothing quite so crippling to a woman as taking over her very person, claiming her body as your property and entering it against her will. You can see it in their eyes: that hopelessness, that emptiness.” He paused, and Charlie shivered at the gloating expression on the man's face. “But women, as a rule, do not tempt
me. We magi tend to prefer the company of our own sex.”

  He stepped closer, and Charlie held his breath for a moment, considering what to do next.

  “Then why Saira?” he asked.

  Cryntz shrugged. “Simply because every man wanted her, and I wanted to take something they couldn't get. I never wanted that little whore. I just wanted everyone else not to have her. And when I found out she was Benash Rothbur's daughter! Oh, hurting her was nothing but sweet, sweet revenge against him for taking in you instead of me. But now…” Cryntz shifted forward half a step, putting them toe to toe, and lowered his voice. “As soon as that little wife of yours is dead, you and I are going to have some fun. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk for a week.” He paused, and added with a grin, “Moot point, really, considering I'm going to kill you after, of course.”

  “You're sick,” Charlie spat.

  “On the contrary,” Cryntz murmured, and spun away to glance out the window, though not much could be seen through the pouring rain.

  “Killing people and holding power over them doesn't make you better than them, Cryntz!” Charlie yelled. “It makes you lesser, because you're trying to rise by dishonest means. If you'd stuck to what you were good at without obsessing over climbing on people's shoulders and bringing others down, if you'd just worked on making yourself better for your own sake without concern for those who had more than you, then–”

  Cryntz stormed toward him and backhanded him across the face.

  “You've said quite enough,” Cryntz growled, his chest heaving with anger.

  He snapped his fingers, and Charlie felt a rope snake over his shoulders and cinch down around his throat.

  Chapter 29

  STARING AT the pink roses, Saira huddled against her father as Benash pulled out his mobile and pressed a button to contact the office, leaving the phone on speaker.

  “Lani?” he asked when no one answered. “Lani, are you there?” Hearing nothing but static, Benash tried again: “Lani?”

  “I'm sorry,” a man's voice responded. “Lani is…not quite conscious at the moment.”

  Saira clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she listened to the voice. Her father looked down at her, and she nodded rapidly.