Masters of Deception

by J C Kang

  As much as she wanted to question him, at least sixteen Bovyans now ran toward her. She reached into her sleeve and whipped out three throwing stars with a backhand spin. The Nightblade rolled to the side, but the arc of one of the stars caught him in the gut. He crumpled to the ground with a grunt.

  There was no time for interrogation. Jie resumed her sprint to the closest wall. The Bovyan’s longer legs gained ground on her. With a leap, she caught the top of the wall. Just avoiding the swipe of hands at her ankle, she scrambled to the top and took a quick glance back into the compound, then up the main road.

  Bovyans were still running toward her, but none thought to head back out to the gate. Up the road, a covered horse-drawn cart, flanked by six Bovyans, crested the hill, kicking up a cloud of dust. Sameer was probably inside. There was no sign of Brehane anywhere. No scent of her hair perfume, no tracks from her slippered feet.

  Jie dropped down and raced to the front gate. With a last loving glance at De Lucca’s wondrous knife, she lodged it into the door’s frame. The blade slid through wood with ease, the hilt sealing the door shut.

  Jie sighed. Such an amazing weapon. Though if what the doctor said was true, they were taking Sameer to De Lucca’s office, where at least one more of those knives waited for liberation.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Cassius’ eyes fluttered open as the cart lurched to a stop. With his energy so low, he must’ve dozed off yet again, on their way to De Lucca’s Bovyan compound.

  “Signore, Bovyans.” The driver pointed up ahead.

  Cassius focused on the column of soldiers marching double time beside a horse-drawn, covered wagon. They sure looked to be in a hurry.

  By the Gods, what was he thinking, risking himself against the best soldiers in the world? Was it because he wanted to bed Brehane again? A gut feeling said she was in trouble, and it had to do with the Teleri who had wanted him to turn her over to them.

  He peered into the heavens, where the late afternoon sun still drowned out all the stars. Only the three moons shone in the sky, revealing none of the Gods’ secrets. Maybe it was worth drawing a tarot card, but the hair prickled at the back of his neck. No, the same gut feeling from before said he’d need to save his Divining energy for later in the day, and the Bovyans before had recognized the Signores’ authority.

  For now, at least. Cassius’ gut said they were exploiting De Lucca so as to bring a small army into Tokahia, and conquer the city without actually fighting.

  As the vehicles drew closer, the warrior at the head of the column met his gaze.

  Cassius waved him down, then said to the driver, “Stop.”

  The driver nodded and reined the horses back. The carriage slowed to a halt.

  The Bovyan leader strode up. “Yes, Signore?”

  “I heard there was some trouble at your plantation,” Cassius said. “In my capacity as signore, I was coming to investigate.”

  The man’s eyebrows clashed together for a split second. “How did you know?”

  Cassius swept into a flourishing bow. “I am Signore Cassius Larusso, descendant of the First Diviner, after all.” And, with Sameer looking for Sohini, there was little doubt there’d been the equivalent of a Cathayi fireworks show at the compound.

  “Just an intruder. Nothing we could not handle.”

  An intruder. Just one. Surely, a Bovyan wasn’t smart enough to give a misleading statement, and they were rumored to be honest to a fault. And if they only knew of one, it was most likely the brash Sameer. Cassius lifted his chin at the approaching wagon. “What do you have in there?”

  The Bovyan looked over his shoulder, then back. “A delivery for Signore De Lucca, from his compound.”

  Cassius stared at the wagon. It could be anything back there: food, wine, Brehane… He closed his eyes and gauged his strength. He was still too weak from the night before. With the Iridescent Moon not yet waxing to half, Divining without a token of hers would sap him. If only he’d kept some kind of memento from their tumble in the sheets, it would be so much easier.

  The Bovyan started to turn on his heel.

  “Wait,” Cassius said. It couldn’t hurt to ask. The worst thing that could happen would be a refusal. Hopefully. “May I see what is in the wagon?”

  The leader scowled. “It is none of your concern.”

  “I thought you worked for the Signores now. I am ordering you to show me.” Cassius stood.

  A sword swept out of the Bovyan’s scabbard. “We are contracted by Signore De Lucca. This is his personal matter.”

  Surely a Bovyan wouldn’t draw on a signore unless the cargo was important. Cassius appraised the column, now close enough to spit at. The men marched with such precision, their chainmail hiding rippled arms as large as his own leg. Six mobsters had been hard enough, and these were the best soldiers in the world, short of the Paladins. It didn’t take Divination to know that fighting with them wouldn’t end well.

  He flashed a broad smile and returned to his seat. “Give Signore De Lucca my regards.”

  Thumping his chest with a fist, the Bovyan sheathed his sword and returned to the head of the wagon.

  Cassius listened and watched as it passed. The rear door was closed. The wagon jolted as one of the wheels ran over a stone.

  “Ooomph,” came a muffled voice from inside, along with the sound of rattling crates and jostling bottles.

  Cassius tightened and loosened his fists. Whose voice? It was hard to tell if it was male or female through the door. Was Brehane inside? He scooted over to the front bench and leaned over to the driver. “Turn the carriage around and follow that wagon.”

  The driver pointed to the fields at the side. “Signore, we would have to go off the road in order to circle around. I’m worried the wheels might catch in the soft soil.”

  “Do it.”

  With a nod, the driver snapped the reins. The carriage lurched forward. In the time it took to pick up speed, then start the circle, all the stars could have fallen from the heavens. Still, the driver’s concerns about the wheel catching didn’t seem to be—

  Cassius lurched forward in the carriage as it jerked to a stop. The horses complained with neighs. The Trickster’s Ass! A wheel had stuck, just as the driver had warned. He looked over his shoulder.

  De Lucca’s wagon was well in the distance, and he wasn’t much of a runner.

  “The horses,” came a high-pitched voice.

  Heart leaping into his chest, Cassius spun back around.

  The half-elf girl, Jie, pressed her fist into her palm. “They’re taking Sameer back to De Lucca, and not for tea.”

  Cassius nodded. A compound full of Bovyans was too much for an apprentice. “What about Brehane?”

  Jie shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see any sign of her after I broke into the compound, but her faint scent lingers here.”

  Chest squeezing, Cassius looked up and down the road. Surely he or Jie would’ve spotted Brehane. Which left the Bovyan carriage as the only place she could be. He gestured to the driver. “Unhitch one of the horses. I’m going to ride.”

  Chapter 26:

  Masters of Deception

  Fog muddled Brehane’s head, her shoulders ached, and her arms buzzed with numbness. She was lying face up, arms pinned beneath her on a bed. Blinking several times, she started to pull them out, only to feel rope biting into her wrists.

  Her heart lurched. The foggy head; it was the after-effect of a sleep spell. She took a deep breath to try to clear her mind. What was the last thing that had happened?

  They’d passed through the courtyard and front gate, where Bovyans were loading crates into a wagon. When the smaller one with the scar on his forehead spoke of attacking the pyramid, she’d gasped, and inadvertently revealed herself. Then, all had gone black. No, Melas had uttered something first. A spell. A familiar one, but what? Fragmented dreams of rocking and pitching, like the ship ride over, came back to her.

  Now, though, all was still. She turned her hea
d to get her bearings. All was black, like… She sensed the Resonance, which pulsed in slow beats. Melas had cast a darkness spell.

  Why? She’d agreed to learn with him, to mutually help one another progress in their schools of magic. He must not have trusted her.

  She focused on the sounds.

  From not far away came sniffling. A woman, from the sound of it.

  “Who’s there?” Brehane called.

  The whimpering stopped. “Brehane?” The naggy voice, more whiney than before, belonged to Makeda.

  “Yes. Makeda, what is happening?”

  “Assama, it’s your fault this happened to me.”

  Always trying to blame someone else. Brehane snorted and sidled away. “I was just protecting myself. You tried to sell me to the crime families and steal my birthright.” She gasped. The jewel wasn’t hanging from her neck. “Assama, you took it, didn’t you?”

  “No,” Melas said. “I did.”

  He uttered a foul sound. Lights flared, chasing away the darkness.

  Brehane’s eyes seared from the sudden change. She blinked several times and tracked the voice.

  Melas leaned against a doorsill, grinning so wide his white teeth might’ve been the source of light. He held up her jewel from his neck.

  Heat surged to Brehane’s head. The assama! She struggled again, her wrists again chafing on the ropes. She looked around.

  She was lying on an enormous bed with fluffy blankets, much like the one she’d taken Cassius on. The room was quite big, with a large window overlooking the harbor. An enormous mirror hung on the opposite wall. Several oil paintings in elaborate frames depicted fair-skinned beauties, idealized and naked.

  Makeda, too, was naked, sitting on a green cushioned chair with her hands bound above her head to the chair’s decorative frame. Her legs were splayed wide, ropes lashing her knees to the armrests. As before, the luster of youth in her skin was gone, making her look five years older.

  “Biomancy?” Melas’ gaze had followed Brehane’s, but now shifted back.

  Despite Makeda’s betrayal, guilt pitted in Brehane’s stomach. Her merging of Biomancy and Pyromancy had stolen Makeda’s youth. She had to help her escape, and that started with finding out more. “Where are we?”

  “My room in one of Signore De Lucca’s pleasure houses.”

  So Melas was associated with De Lucca. “How did we get here?”

  “I am an Illusionist, after all.” Melas’ smile stretched wide. “I made you look like a crate, and we hitched a ride back with the Bovyans.”

  The smug assama. “What for?”

  “With your adventures in Tokahia so far, I thought you would’ve guessed what happens in these places.” Melas tilted his head at Makeda. “She was even better than I remember from years ago, but I guess that is what happens when things follow the natural order.”

  Makeda burst into tears.

  The twisting of Brehane’s gut squeezed all the guilt out. Instead of being a proper man, Melas had become like a Bovyan. “You… you…” There was no word for forced intercourse in their language, and her brain couldn’t remember the word in Arkothi.

  Melas laughed. “As for Makeda… What do you think, Brother Dawit?”

  Dawit stepped in from the next room over, grinning.

  Brehane gasped. The two might have been working together this whole time.

  “I trusted you,” Makeda spat through her tears.

  “It was my first time with her, so I have no basis for comparison.” Dawit ambled over to Makeda. “In Aksumi lands, as much as I wanted her…both of you, really…I had to play demure and subservient. It’s so unnatural back home. Here, a man can be himself.”

  Brehane’s heart raced. This was all wrong. Coupling was supposed to be initiated by a woman. Men weren’t supposed to want it at all, unless seduced by the sweet words and beauty of the perfect woman. Managing to sit up in the soft bed, she struggled with her bonds again.

  “Why the resistance?” Melas asked. “You were so eager in the past. Quite the ravenous beast. Brother Dawit, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  Dawit stroked Makeda’s cheek. “I’m spent for now, but I’ll be sure to taste it before our trip.”

  Trip? With fear coursing through her, it was too hard to think. “Where?”

  “I told you.” Melas smirked. “Arkos.”

  What was it with Arkos? The pyramid there? “Why?”

  Dawit brushed a finger down the middle of Makeda’s face. “The Teleri Empire offered us a million drakas to deliver a female descendant of the First Mystic to Arkos. I wonder if they’ll pay double for two.”

  A shudder climbed up Brehane’s spine. “Why do they want us?”

  Melas shrugged. “That’s not my business, and now that we have Makeda, you are more valuable to me for something else: I need you to help me learn to Biomance female energy into male energy.”

  Brehane shook her head. “It’s not possible.”

  “Of course it is. You always liked to experiment with magic. It was quite nifty what you did, making those webs.”

  “Making webs and reversing Biomancy are totally different. It just isn’t—”

  “Shhhh. I have something that can help.” Melas held up a book.

  With her curiosity piqued, all fear drained out of her. “What is it?”

  “A Cathayi book about what they call the Dao. It explains that if a man can reach his peak, but not spill his seed, he can draw out a woman’s energies. The Cathayi emperors have practiced it since the War of Ancient Gods. Before the current Dynasty’s Queen Regent overturned the natural order, they once had entire harems to draw on.”

  Was it even possible for males to draw from females? Nothing in Biomancer legends spoke of it. Cathayi magic was limited to artistic expression, so whatever the Dao did, it couldn’t involve the transfer of life energy. Could it?

  Possible or not, if there was a way out of this predicament, it might work to play along. Brehane nodded with as much enthusiasm as she could fake. Maybe it wasn’t faked? “Let me see the book.”

  “Ever the student.” Grinning, Melas strode over. He held the book open.

  The words were written in wavy Cathayi script, one which Jie might be able to read; or one which she could with a translation spell. The pictures depicted the side profile of a man and woman, with an arrowed line looping down the center of their bodies, then back up their spines. When he flipped to a new page, it showed a coupled man and woman, their lines merging.

  Brehane sucked in a sharp breath. It was visually similar to the Biomancy spell for converting male seed into energy.

  Melas turned to Dawit. “A million drakas is more than we’ll ever need. Brehane is more useful to our growth of magic.”

  Which undoubtedly meant coupling with the two of them. Something which had seemed like a game years ago. Now, both were disgusting. They’d already forced themselves on Makeda. Brehane’s stomach lurched.

  Still, playing along might be the only way to escape and spare Makeda from an even worse fate. Even now, the poor girl was crying.

  “Go to the first page,” Brehane said, feigning excitement.

  “So enthusiastic!” Melas laughed. “She’s forgotten all about Makeda.”

  Brehane looked up from the book and curled her lip. “No, not forgotten. She betrayed me. The Bovyans can do what they want with her.”

  Makeda wailed.

  If only Brehane could provide some comfort, to say she was lying, she would. Even for a rival. “We will all grow powerful. We can return to Aksumiland and overthrow the Conclave.”

  “Treacherous assama,” Makeda spat.

  “Says the one who tried to sell me to the Mafia.” Brehane forced a cruel smirk.

  Melas exchanged glances with Dawit, then mirrored her grin. “I think we can untie her.”

  Stroking his chin, Dawit studied her expression. “Hmmmm.”

  Brehane projected her most ambitious smile.

  Looking back at Melas, Dawit shr
ugged and nodded. “She always was single-minded.”

  “All right. You untie her; I’ll leave this book with you to study while I finalize arrangements with the Pirate Queen’s ships.”

  Pirate Queen? That must be how they were going to Arkos.

  Setting down the book, Melas turned and headed out of the room.

  Dawit left Makeda’s side and took his time strolling over to the bed. He sat down beside Brehane and twirled his finger in a circle. “Turn around.”

  Brehane shifted so her hands faced him. Her arms had regained sensation. Once she was free…

  His hands brushed down her shoulders, pausing to grope her breasts before reaching her wrists and fiddling with the ties.

  It took every bit of discipline not to tense up at the violation. She’d be free soon enough. But then what? He was physically stronger, and his magic more powerful. Far more powerful.

  Once the rope came off, she shook her hands. Her fingers tingled as warmth returned. She motioned to the book. “May I?”

  Dawit was already back by Makeda’s side. She squirmed as much as the bindings would allow.

  He looked back, expression lurid, and nodded. “Don’t leave the room. I’ll be watching you.”

  Brehane hid her shudder. No woman, not even a betrayer like Makeda, deserved this fate. She swept up the book and retreated to a corner. Even though she opened the book, she didn’t even look at the pictures.

  After all, those fascinating images wouldn’t help with the invisibility spell.

  Brehane thought back, remembering the sounds Melas had made, the way his hands had moved, and the way the Resonance shifted.

  Hopefully, Dawit wouldn’t recognize her attempt to mimic it. She spoke the words and waved her hands. The Resonance shifted. Her energy flickered.

  Turning his attention from Makeda, Dawit looked directly at her.

  Brehane found her hands, still visible. She shook her head. “Even with the translation spell, the book doesn’t make sense.”

  With a grunt, Dawit turned back.

  Maybe she had enough energy for one more attempt. She grunted out the syllables and manipulated the Resonance with her fingers.