Awakenings

by C. D. Espeseth

  The party sat down at a table with a reserved sign in the corner.

  John felt his mouth go dry as, before he could signal, Thannis caught his eye and tilted his head towards the door.

  And John saw the final piece in this gambit walk in with her own entourage. Her holiness, Seraphim Wong, walked in with her usual parade of loyal Singer sycophantic attendants and personal bodyguard, all of whom were Xinnish.

  Of course, today was Sanctae Meditationis, the ‘Holy Day of Reflection’ in Kent. An old tradition still honoured in Kent, but now a somewhat unfavourable tradition within Salucia, as during the Border Wars, atrocities would regularly be committed on this day. On the Kentish side, infidels smote in the name of Halom, on the Xinnish side, religious zealots beheaded in the name of vengeance. It had been the day prisoners of war on both sides had learned to dread.

  It was all going to kick off. This was all a trap, part of the plan.

  What happened in the next few moments would be the match strike to light the city’s simmering hatred and resentment of the new order.

  Thannis and John shared a look, and John knew he was right.

  He had to act fast, and without a clue as to what he was doing other than following the instinct that he had to try something to stop what he saw about to happen, he stood up and walked over to the table with Thannis and Lady Buika, dragging his chair behind him.

  “Ah, here he is then!” John announced loudly to the room. “Come on over here, Bill, Trealine, come on.”

  If it was all a trap, nothing left now but to spring it.

  Thannis had watched him walk over with a curious tilt to his head like a dog might. But the one thing John was counting on was that he knew, this killer. Thannis Beua’chant liked to play games. Liked the challenge of it, and the young prince was smiling.

  John wanted to pull his sai from its sheath and shove it through one of those twinkling bright eyes of his.

  “You don’t mind if we sit, do you?” John smiled and sat before Thannis could say yes or no.

  “You’ve ascertained the greater plan, haven’t you?” Thannis said quietly, watching John like a cat studying a mouse. “Very good. I do believe you are the only one who has any clue as to what is really going on.”

  “Maybe,” John said and took the deck of cards out of Bill’s hand and started shuffling. “Miranda, I know you can hear me, give the signal to the city guard. Let them know we have him.” John watched Thannis to see if there was any hint of surprise, but there was none. Damn, he had that figured too. He started dealing cards to everyone sitting at the table, including Lady Buika who sat watching him with a mixture of shock and fury. “We’ll see what I’ve figured, and you just tell me if I’m getting warm,” he said.

  “Prince Thannis, what is the meaning of this?” Lady Buika was about to stand, she looked haggard and dangerous, about to break. “You said we were getting out of the city and that you had to meet someone here.”

  “And I have.” Thannis smiled. “Do sit. It will all be clear very shortly. I imagine our friend, Senior Prefect Stonebridge, is about to explain it all.”

  “Your Holiness, Seraphim Wong,” John called over his shoulder to the table with the high-ranked Singer and her entourage, “I’d tell you all to run for your lives, but I doubt you would believe me. I will need you for questioning after this, but you will want to hear what I have to say.”

  John was counting who he had in the room as he continued to prattle, hoping it was working to delay whatever it was this Thannis had planned. He kept dealing cards, slowing things down so his brain could work on the trap. There were enough constables, nearly a dozen scattered around the room, all armed with crossbows hidden under the tables or within easy reach. He had another dozen constables moving in from around the building to block the exits, but there was something he was missing ...

  Thannis chuckled, and somehow, John knew Thannis’s thoughts echoed his own.

  “Your father is behind the whole thing, that wasn’t a lie. You two have been working together the whole time, planning this probably for years. The murders, the religious coup, the riots, it’s all connected.” John turned to Lady Buika, and another cog clicked into place for him. “The Bauffish royal family, there was something a long time back, a rumour, before the constabulary was properly set up, a rumour about a conspiracy involving a schism within the Faith and a connection to the slain members of House Mercurio. That was what this latest coup was about? You found someone, did you? Someone who could legitimately take the throne from the Mihanes. I am guessing here,” John said, looking back at Thannis, “but I have a hunch that the Nothavran royal family and its deep pockets were a large part of making that possible. Hells, they are probably even senior members within the sect. What were you called again? began with a Q?”

  “Quinnites,” Thannis said, grinning, “and yes, your hunch is very close to the mark indeed. Apart from my cooperation in these matters has always been coerced rather than voluntary. My father and I have a very complicated relationship, shall we say.”

  John squinted at Thannis, not sure if he believed him, but it was possible he was telling the truth. Remus Beau’Chant had been rumoured to be sadistic to the core, though no evidence to this had ever surfaced.

  He looked around the room once more, it felt as if he were missing something obvious, but every time he thought he had the answer, it seemed to slip away from him, as if he came up against a wall and was then pushed away.

  So John kept talking, hoping to gain the time needed for the elusive answer to come to him. “Except the coup was never meant to succeed.”

  Lady Buika baulked at that, but Thannis let out a delighted laugh beside her. “Very good, indeed, Senior Prefect.”

  “What?” Lady Buika stood sharply, her hand flashed to her side, but Thannis was quicker, taking the knife from her belt with the speed of a striking snake.

  “Now, now, don’t be rude. The man hasn’t finished his story yet.” Thannis tutted at Lady Buika, and his smile widened to one of self-satisfied pleasure. The constables around the room drew crossbows, and the two Hafaza and the Syklan dropped into fighting stances at their table with their weapons already drawn.

  “Excellent,” Thannis hissed. His voice had gone from jovial to ice-cold sinister within a heartbeat. He leaned forward and slowly put Lady Buika’s knife on the table. “Now we can see where the real cards on the table are, can’t we, John?”

  Thannis leaned back and nodded towards Seraphim Wong and her entourage.

  The men and women John had pegged as sycophantic attendants to Seraphim Wong, had all discarded their simpering posturing for stances of soldiers and had drawn some strange looking weapons. They held hollowed out handles of crossbows, yet there were no loaded bolts and no strings to speak of. They had metal tubes running the length of them and had thin, dagger-like blades strapped to the underside of the metal tubes. They levelled the strange weapons at nearly every person in the room but remained severely outnumbered by the constables.

  “All right! Everyone, just calm down!” John bellowed, holding his hands out to stop whatever madness what about to explode into being.

  No one moved, and all combatants looked to be satisfied eying each other warily. No one wanted to be the first to start the killing.

  “You like the design, John? That is one of the few pieces of inspiration my father actually got right. In a rare moment of foresight, my father actually made a move outside the normal. He’s been funding a very special project in Xin Ya for a while now, specifically involving the explosive powders they use in their night festivals. It’s dredged-up technology from the Jendar, well, to tell the truth, pre-Jendar, actually. Pistols, I think they were called. You see, Seraphim Wong is here at my father’s invitation as she also wants to know who is behind the murders of her people.” Thannis leaned onto the backrest of his chair. “Isn’t that right, Seraphim Wong?”

  “Yes, I was told you were to give me all the answers. That you knew who was
behind it all,” Seraphim Wong said through clenched teeth. She too held a pistol and had aimed it at Thannis, though he didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned.

  “Well, go on, John. Fill in the rest. You’ve been doing so well.” Thannis grinned at him as he rested his hands behind his head, settling in for a good bit of storytelling.

  John’s nerves started to get to him, he hadn’t seen it all yet. There was more at play than he had guessed. John knew Thannis had another game at play than the one which was unfolding before them, but John couldn’t see what it was, so he let himself speak, hoping Thannis might make a mistake. “The coup is the feint before the real attack, which starts tonight, where Seraphim Wong is the final target. The final death in this string of murders, the one which will …” John trailed off.

  Of course. He looked Thannis in the eyes and saw that he had guessed right before he said it. “The Xinnish royalty was in on all of this from the start. Princess Syun was a sacrifice, she had been causing the royal family all sorts of trouble, she was championing the grass-roots movement for even greater integration with the other Salucian nations. She was killed because of it, and her death created the opportunity to drag the Mihanes out of power. To incite revolt and tarnish the heroic image of Ronaston Mihane by showing the people that a warlord only does one thing when confronted with unrest. You’re going to get him to attack the rioters.” John felt as if the walls were closing in on him. It was all already set in motion.

  “Bravo!” Thannis was clapping his hands wholeheartedly. “How in the world did you put all this together? Surely that notebook of yours can’t have all that in it?”

  John ignored him, his mind whirred through details. “But how are you going to get him to leave the Tower, why would he go personally …”

  “Ah, yes. That would be difficult to see, and again, I want to re-emphasise, this is not my plan, I am an unwilling participant in all of this, just like that squirrely little man you found in a prison cell in the Narrows. So let me help,” Thannis leaned in conspiratorially. “Did you know that Princess Echinni likes to rub elbows in bawdy taverns? She likes it so much she has ridiculously lent her vocal abilities to an aspiring young band who will be playing at none other than Keef’s Tavern, which again my father had more than a helping hand in arranging.”

  No, John thought. They have Princess Echinni. Somehow they got to her.

  “But you disappoint me, John, there is that piece of the puzzle which you are still missing. You’ve been trying to figure it out since you sat down.” Thannis shook his head, feigning sadness. “The numbers just don’t add up do they?”

  John hated the smug bastard, his hand went to his sai, but he took the bait, clenching his teeth together as he spoke, “Not even you can kill all my constables, Lady Buika, her guards, Seraphim Wong and all of her cronies, and then get out of here alive.”

  “You’re right, I can’t.” Thannis leaned across the table even further and began to whisper, “But I don’t have to. You see, John, they are going to kill each other. Your mind keeps slipping from the answer because that is what she does.” Thannis tapped his head and smiled.

  Like a magician pulling away a curtain, the fog from John’s thoughts cleared for a moment, and John could actually feel the touch on his mind trying to keep his attention off her. “The witch! She’s in the room, get–”

  It was then John saw the glazed-over look in Lady Buika’s eyes. The lady stood and turned to Seraphim Wong with rage painted all over her face.

  Thannis’s right hand had slid to the pouch he wore on his side, and a white-blue glow quickly began to pulse from inside the leather bag.

  “Check-mate, John. I’d hit the floor if I were you.” Thannis followed his own advice and dived for the floor.

  John was only a heartbeat behind as his shoulder hit the floor, and all hell broke loose.

  Lady Buika’s enhanced voice slammed into the room, people were thrown off their feet by the force of her Presence. Her twin swords were drawn from her sides, and three of Seraphim Wong’s party fell before they had recovered from Lady Buika’s voice-powered attack. Lady Buika’s long-handled blades swept through them like a scythe through wheat, but Seraphim Wong recovered first and had also been trained in the use of her voice and Presence.

  Seraphim Wong’s counter-attack blasted Lady Buika back, and the seraphim raised her pistol while her followers recovered. The pistols began to snap like thunder, and people started screaming as white smoke began to burst from the backs of the strange weapons.

  John watched in horror as his own constables, all with glazed-over eyes, turned on the pistol-bearing Singers and began riddling people with crossbow bolts.

  The whole room turned into a bloody shooting gallery.

  The guards, who had been waiting outside as backup, stormed into the room with crossbows loaded, and the witch turned them against anybody still standing. It was like they had hit a mental wall when they entered the room, and all sense of free will evaporated against the full power of the greatest witch the Vinda had ever known.

  John tried to get to his feet, his hand on his sai, but he fell as Lady Buika’s attack had left him with vertigo.

  As his head hit the floor for a second time, he saw one of the other Hafaza had turned to engage Miranda who was now fighting for her life. The Hafaza twisted the handle on his twin-bladed glaive, and the single weapon became two. Long-handled swords whirred through the air pushing Miranda back against the wall. Her sai flashed as she twisted and dodged. Miranda pivoted inside the guard of the mind-controlled Hafaza and smashed an elbow into the man’s nose.

  The strike seemed to daze the man, but in the grips of the witch’s possession, it didn’t seem to matter. The flat of one the Hafaza’s blades slammed into the side of Miranda’s head, knocking her straight off her feet. She snapped a kick out and caught the Hafaza in the head as she went down, and then John lost sight of her as she fell behind the bar.

  One of Seraphim Wong’s pistol shots had torn through Lady Buika’s left thigh, and she dropped to her knee. The Syklan knight who had accompanied the lady now wore the same glazed look on her scarred face. As Lady Buika tried to rise on her ruined leg, the mind-controlled Syklan swung her sword through a vicious arc and took Lady Buika’s head from her shoulders.

  Bill charged the Syklan with a flurry of attacks so violent that the metal-clad warrior fell over backwards under the assault.

  Seraphim Wong screamed as the last standing Hafaza threw his glaive like a javelin as the seraphim pulled the trigger on her pistol. The Hafaza hit the floor already dead as his head snapped back from the pistol shot, but as the smoke from the shot cleared, Seraphim Wong also fell with a glaive blade embedded in her chest.

  The witch! The damn witch was killing them all.

  It was madness.

  He had to find her.

  And as if his thoughts had alerted the hidden menace, John felt a cloud begin to shadow his thoughts. I need to stab Bill. Have to stop him from hurting the Syklan.

  John started rushing towards his own constable, his mind clouded, but he knew he was ready to kill, just as a hand grabbed his leg.

  Thannis looked up at him, holding onto his leg, his other hand inside a leather pouch where a bright light shone.

  The touch somehow dispelled the cloud from his mind and John looked at his hand in horror. He had been about to stab Bill in the back. He had wanted to do it, and he would have if this murderer hadn’t saved him. John felt as if he wanted to be sick.

  “Not nice, is it? You’re welcome,” Thannis said, still on his stomach and searching the room for something. “Not to worry though, I’ve got a plan to stop all this once and for all.”

  The Syklan attacking Bill suddenly slammed a gauntleted fist in the big constable’s face, and John lurched forward to try and stop what he knew was inevitable.

  The punch to the face opened up enough space for the Syklan to bring his sword around and straight up into Bill’s heart.

&nb
sp; He was dead before he hit the floor, but in his final moment his sai had punched into the slot in the Syklan’s helmet, and the armour-clad warrior toppled a moment later.

  Trealine lay on the floor beside her fellow constable. She had a hole in her neck from one of the pistol shots.

  It was all a gods-damned nightmare.

  Miranda, where’s Miranda? The thought came to John, and he tried to crawl to where he had last seen her.

  A shadow moved to their left, and instinct and rage made John fling his sai with all his might. The witch materialised and dodged the attack. She looked at John with her terrible eyes. Her skull-painted face seemed to float within her dark hood.

  Mistake. John had only pissed her off, but he didn’t care any more. This was not the end he had planned, but he was damned if he was going to go out cowering on the floor.

  “Ah, thank you, John, just what I was waiting for.” Thannis grinned, and the hand within the glowing leather pouch materialised. A twisting mess of copper wire wrapped around dozens upon dozens of small iron rods inlaid with dark blue crystals all strapped to a metal and leather gauntlet came out of the satchel. The most magnificent santsi globe John had ever seen was embedded in a nest of copper on top of the contraption. It was like nothing the senior prefect had ever seen before.

  “I’ve been dying to try this out,” Thannis said as his finger touched a polished metal contact point inlaid in the wooden handle and the santsi globe on top of the contraption winked out.

  An arc of pure electric power thundered out of the end of the crazed weapon. Light exploded into the room, and John felt his hair stand on end and try to leave his body. John felt the concussive wave as the air shuddered.

  John fell back gasping for breath, as one moment he had been standing and the next he was half a dozen paces back and lying on the floor. His heart beat so hard John thought his sternum might break.