The Veiled Diplomat

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The Veiled Diplomat Page 13

by Thomas K. Carpenter


  The veracity of Amber's warning struggled to penetrate their passion. Zayn convinced himself that if Amber had seen his future, and Petri in it, then whatever happened couldn't be that bad.

  When they fell upon her bed, all doubts were washed away, and Zayn gave himself to her fully, as she did to him, and the night passed in a timeless state of unending bliss.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Seventh Ward, March 2016

  And the rowers keep on rowing

  For the next week, no matter what Zayn tried, he couldn't put the night with Petri out of his mind. He wasn't a virgin, but he wasn't that experienced either, and what had transpired left him at a loss for words.

  It didn't help that he hadn't seen her since. When he'd gotten up for class the next morning, she was already gone, even though it'd been her room. After that, it never seemed like they were in the same place in the house at the same time. He might hear her in the kitchen, but be on the way to class. Or once when he came downstairs for a late-night snack, Petri was slipping out of the house to go clubbing.

  In his logical mind, Zayn was realistic about what had happened. She was only in the city for the year, to experience what it had to offer before moving on, and had spent the last few months going out each night, which meant that he was hardly her first. She was also the niece of a powerful witch who could talk to the dead, and more than likely, there were aspects of Petri that he didn't, or couldn't, understand.

  But his heart wouldn't listen to his logical mind. He had a hard time concentrating in class because his thoughts went back to her and that blissful night.

  Whenever he was in the house and caught wind of her perfume—which had an earthy patchouli smell but with a hint of flowers—he forgot what he was doing and had to backtrack until he could remember. It'd been a powerful experience, one that he was a little worried about, for more reasons than the obvious ones.

  Zayn had to confront these thoughts after class with Instructor Konig, when he went into the kitchen for an afternoon snack and ran into Petri coming the other way with a bowl of fruity crisps, spilling milk onto his arm.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," she said with a half-full mouth of cereal.

  "No, it was me, I shouldn't have just barged through the door," he said, not knowing where to put his hands and finally resting them on the front of his hips, but feeling awkward about it.

  His breath caught in his throat as he looked upon her. Even though her hair had been tucked into a messy ponytail, there were food stains on her pink unicorn T-shirt, and she had a mouth full of cereal, it felt like his mind had been scrambled.

  She seemed embarrassed by his silence, until he was finally able to spit out, "Is there any more cereal?"

  She smiled with relief, continuing to chew what she had in her mouth. When she finally swallowed, she replied while her shoulders pulled together.

  "Sorry, it was the last of the box."

  "No problem, I'll grab an apple or something," he said.

  Petri made a face.

  "Ate that too?"

  She nodded.

  "Does this mean you owe me dinner?" he asked, immediately regretting it when she blushed and glanced sideways. "Sorry, I didn't mean...I was just..."

  Petri gave him a look that he didn't know how to categorize. It was almost a cry for help, but it was different. Like there was something she couldn't explain, or he wouldn't understand.

  His heart thundered in his ears. The warmth in his face was so overwhelming he almost missed the soft click in the kitchen. Petri caught it as well, as her head twitched to the right.

  "Was anyone else...?" he asked.

  She quickly shook her head and turned to the side so he could rush into the kitchen to find Instructor Minoan with a bucket of industrial-strength paste in each hand.

  Zayn tried to hit him with a stunning strike but the instructor was faster, swinging a bucket of paste around to knock him into the standing shelves filled with bowls and plates, which crashed into the ground, shattering at ear-splitting volume.

  Instructor Minoan feinted towards the back door, leaving a cloud of butterflies in his wake, but Zayn knew where he was going, and beat him to the hidden cabinet, keeping it pushed against the wall so the instructor couldn't escape.

  The sounds of many feet approaching brought a half-cocked smile from Instructor Minoan.

  "Finally figured it out, eh?"

  Zayn opened his mouth to reply, but the instructor mule kicked him through the kitchen door to land in the living room as his teammates came rushing down the stairs.

  "Owww, that hurt," coughed Zayn, getting up as Petri continued eating her cereal and watching with a bemused expression.

  His teammates stared at him as if he'd grown a second head until he said, "Minoan."

  They rushed into the kitchen, and Zayn yanked open the hidden tunnel, throwing himself down it, barely using the ladder to slow his fifty-foot fall. He landed in the sewer tunnel, splashing water around him, and sent out his senses to pinpoint the instructor's escape path, only to hear echoes coming from both directions.

  "He's using a confusion charm or something, I can't figure out which way he's going. Portia, come with me, while you three go the other way," said Zayn.

  With his senses maxed, the smells in the tunnel hit him strangely. He was expecting sewage and other disgusting smells, but the air had a sweet quality, like an ice cream shop.

  "What the hell..." he said, looking down at the foamy black liquid at the base of the tunnel. "That smells like...root beer."

  When he heard a sound ahead, his head came up. Zayn darted forward, faster than Portia could get her hand out to stop him. He saw the faint warding glyph hanging in the air the moment before he crashed into it, triggering the spell.

  A spray of white gooey liquid splattered onto him from all directions, freezing into place, and before he could take another step, he'd been locked into a crystalline membrane. A giggling laughter echoed down the tunnel at them, clearly a taunt for setting off the trap.

  "I tried to stop you," said Portia, unapologetically.

  "I should have let you go first, you're the scout," said Zayn. "Can you get me out?"

  Portia broke a thin stalactite off his shoulder and gave it a tentative sniff. "Smells like sugar. I'd take a nibble but it could be an illusion."

  She punched the sugary web, freeing Zayn from the membrane. It exploded into white powder, which fell into a dusting on the brown liquid running through the tunnel.

  Zayn was about to run off first again when he remembered that had gotten him into trouble in the first place.

  "After you," he said, directing Portia in front of him.

  She moved quickly, nimbly hopping from side to side in the curved tunnel, avoiding the liquid at the bottom. Zayn matched her motions, though it pained him not to sprint forward with reckless abandon.

  But her patience was rewarded when she stopped, craning her head to the side, and pointed to runes on the ceiling. She disarmed the trap with a couple of gestures.

  When they came to a tunnel, Portia glanced either way. A cackling laughter erupted from the left passage, but she frowned and led him right.

  The faint voice of the instructor wafted into the tunnel like a fog:

  "Sugar and lies

  and everything nice

  that's what I'm made of

  find me or divine me

  but surely don't bind me

  or you'll get nothing at all

  this maze is a test

  and if you're the best

  then you'll win the grand prize of it all."

  Portia squinted behind them where the voice had originated.

  "That was interesting," said Zayn.

  "Yeah," she said absently, clearly focused on figuring out how to navigate the maze. After a moment of examination and spell casting, she once again went in the opposite direction.

  The occasional laughter flitted into the tunnel every few minutes, but Portia followed her own instincts
, disarming the various traps she found along the way. When they saw a figure ahead racing towards them, they both brought spells to their lips, only to realize it was Skylar.

  "Where are the others?" asked Zayn.

  Skylar was soaked to the bone in what smelled like some sort of cherry flavored liquid.

  "I fell in a pit, and when I swam out, I was in a different location. I heard Keelan and Vin laughing hysterically moments ago, but I couldn't find where they're at. This place is one crazy-assed maze."

  "I think Instructor Minoan read too much Roald Dahl as a kid," said Zayn.

  The three of them, led by Portia, traversed the tunnels for another hour before they found the other two, who had gotten stuck in a loop with a confusion charm on it.

  "Do we keep searching for the instructor or go back?" asked Zayn.

  Portia crossed her arms. "We've been through every area of this maze, mostly looping back around until I could figure out the counter to the charm. At this point, I'd rather get into some dry and non-sticky clothes and come back later."

  "What about the grand prize?" asked Zayn, thinking about new tools to help him with Varna.

  "I think I'd rather take a bath," said Skylar with nods of agreement from the others.

  When they got back into the kitchen, Zayn went looking for Petri but she was no longer in the house. He thought about messaging her, but realized that if she'd left, it meant that she was not interested in talking about their night and that he should just forget that it'd ever happened.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Second Ward, March 2016

  They brought the house down

  The Orpheum Community Theater was smaller than Zayn had expected, only capable of holding forty people at small tables rather than auditorium seating. The place doubled as a comedy club on the weekend, which explained the smell of old whiskey and the scraps of stale popcorn between the tables.

  Zayn glanced out between the curtains, spying six whole customers, which included the owner, who had been curious about their marionette rigging and had come in from his day off.

  "Why did I think this was a good idea?" asked Zayn, biting his lower lip.

  Vin, wearing dark clothing and a chalky gray makeup to simulate the look of the maetrie, yanked the curtain closed. "You've looked out there a dozen times. It's not going to change."

  "How are you so calm? I feel like I swallowed a rabbit," said Zayn, tugging on his black shirt. They'd tried to put the chalky makeup on him, but it looked like some sort of reverse minstrel show, so they decided not to bother.

  "All the hard work is past. Now we get to shine on stage," said Vin, eyes glittering with anticipation.

  "You okay, cuz?" asked Keelan from the back, doing calf stretches as if it were a football game.

  "Why aren't you nervous?" asked Zayn.

  Keelan popped his head from side to side, cracking it loudly. "Dunno. I always wanted to act. More excited than nervous."

  The theater manager came into the back, tugging on his loose tie. "I think this is about as big a crowd as you're going to get. You can start anytime."

  Zayn held his side. "I think I'm going to throw up."

  Vin patted him on the shoulder. "As soon as you get out there, you'll be fine. You won't even be able to see the audience because of the lights. Don't worry."

  Before they started, Vin gathered them into a circle, and they put their hands in the middle. "I know I've been pushing you all pretty hard this last month, but I think everyone's made a lot of progress. You're all going to make mistakes. Don't worry, just keep going, and everyone else will pick you up."

  With the pep talk, Zayn felt his nervousness reduce from boil to simmer.

  "I hope we make you proud," said Zayn, giving Vin a big smile.

  "Break a leg, everyone!"

  They lifted their hands up.

  "Go team," said Portia.

  Getting into their marionette rigging took a few minutes. They'd built scaffolding over the stage that would allow the ropes to travel across it, while keeping them taut, to complete the illusion of the strings. The scaffolding was hidden by a curtain that hung in the front of the stage, creating a viewing window. Zayn was glad that his character, the narrator, didn't have to wear the rigging.

  The lights flickered on and off twice, giving Zayn the signal to begin the show. He pushed through the curtain, which gave him a scratchy polyester feeling like he was sliding through a membrane until he popped out on stage. The can lights warmed his face, but unlike what Vin had promised, they did nothing to hide the audience from his view.

  "Greetings," began Zayn, his voice cracking. Their ambivalent stares were acid on his skin.

  "Greetings," he said louder. "It is I, Percieus the Sage, who has come to tell you a tale that may serve as a parable to some, or a warning to others. While in this lark, you will hear great deeds and thrilling escapades. You will also know the pain of conflict and the ache of loss."

  He'd rushed through his first lines, but took a moment to breathe and slowed his delivery. Though common in Shakespearian plays, the Announcer was unknown to the maetrie construction of the theater. It was an addition made for human audiences to help them make sense of the strange narrative structure.

  "For today I tell you the story of Kanedari the Young on his liebereisen, which in this tongue means a journey of discovery, for he is a lad of uncommon strength and wit, on his quest to find what fate has in store for him."

  Zayn backed away from the center stage, and in a booming voice, declared, "Behold, Kanedari the Young comes forth."

  Keelan burst through the curtains, which caught momentarily on the rigging, and for a moment, Zayn thought the whole structure would come down. But the wooden scaffolding held, and Keelan made his grand entrance.

  From the other side of the stage, Portia appeared as the queen in silvery robes, leaning on an ivory cane. They'd dressed her as the Silver Court, even though there was no such thing.

  "Kanedari, my love, you are too young for this journey," said the Silver Queen. "You will not survive."

  "You cannot turn me away," said Kanedari. "I must prove myself before I can take my place in the court, and it is my destiny to take this path, you cannot deny me."

  "No, I cannot, but you are not ready and the Eternal City will gobble you up and spit you out like the bones of a foolish dolgant," said the Silver Queen.

  "I must meet my destiny," said Kanedari.

  "But why must you rush into your liebereisen? Please, my dearest child, wait but a few years," said the Silver Queen.

  "If I could tell you, I would," said Kanedari with his head dipped in sorrow.

  Before she could respond, he marched forward, and the Silver Queen disappeared behind the curtain. The next part involved Kanedari encountering minor obstacles, events designed to give the audience an idea of his character. While Keelan went through his scenes and lines, Zayn watched the audience for clues to how the performance was being received. No one seemed bored so far, but he sensed they didn't know what to make of it either. As he prepared to deliver his next lines, Zayn noticed a figure in the back of the room that he hadn't seen before. The tall figure was hidden by the house lights and wore a dark hood. The hairs on the back of Zayn's neck stood up, but he dismissed it as nervousness.

  "Upon that bridge a figure rose out of the gloom, obsidian black armor gleaming in magelights, eyes glowing with dread," said Zayn in his deepest voice.

  Wearing the obsidian black armor Zayn described, Vin stepped onto the stage, the marionette rigging sliding smoothly for his entrance.

  "This maetrie was known and feared by all who had ever heard his name, the Black Butcher," said Zayn, raising his hands as if the air was vibrating with power.

  Supposedly this maetrie had slaughtered the Ebony Court many years ago, though Zayn thought that story had probably been embellished with time. It was more likely that he was a ghost story for young maetrie, which was why Vin had included it in the narrative.


  During this part, Keelan and Vin mimed a brief battle with "Kanedari" fleeing after being resoundingly beaten. Despondent, he wandered the streets. Only through luck did he survive the creatures he passed, but as he neared the palace, he remembered his declaration.

  Kanedari paused and gave a soliloquy about choices and destiny. Zayn rather liked this part, and he thought Keelan delivered it well, but once again, the audience seemed unmoved.

  At the end of the speech, Kanedari resumed his journey, but as the Eternal City changed with intention, he encountered a different creature on his way out. This time, Skylar, covered in broken concrete with a porcupine back of steel rod, ambled onto the stage on all fours.

  Zayn was so busy watching Keelan's reaction that he didn't see the rigging get caught on a piece of steel rod. When Skylar lurched forward, the whole rigging tipped. Zayn rushed to the side, to support the structure, but he was too slow, and the wooden scaffolding collapsed like a folding chair onto the stage, wrapping the three actors in rope and curtain.

  Miraculously no one got hurt, but by the time they extricated themselves from the mess, the audience had fled, except for the owner and the manager.

  Having removed his Black Butcher visor, Vin had his hands on his head, staring at the destruction with his mouth hanging open, shaking his head almost as if he were an automaton.

  "It worked in all the practices," he said.

  The owner came up to them with his arms crossed. "It was an interesting start. I was intrigued by the story, but it's a shame about the rigging." He paused, a frown tugging the corners of his lips downward. "You will have to reimburse me for any damages, of course."

  "We will," said Zayn, unwrapping a rope from his ankle.

  "What a disaster," said Vin.

  "That was awesome," said Keelan, eyes wide with wonder. "I mean, sorry about the rigging, but the rest of it was amazing."

  "I totally let you down," said Vin.

  "No you didn't," said Zayn. "That's why we scheduled it at the community theater. No one of any import saw it. We can figure out a solution to the rigging problem, and try again in a few weeks. It'll give us time to work on it more."

 

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