by Gin Hollan
While it was gone, she had to break the connection between the two locations. Was there a crystal that nullified this barrier?
The memory of blood dripping off its hand flashed to the front of her mind. Her stomach began to clench and she forced herself to turn away. Her hand clutched and pulled at her shirt collar, forcing it open wider.
Breathe! she commanded. Calm down and think.
Arabeth hid in the tree line but kept the lyar in sight. Every voluntary muscle in her body seemed paralysed as she fought between the urge to run and the desperate need to get in and shut the lyar gateway down.
Howard had openly challenged her - offering an active threat to the mountain range that protected this region. Had he been controlling that automaton using a formula as proof she had to do what he said, or others would die?
That mountain range was the only thing giving this area calm weather and ideal growing climate. What she'd seen in Vensay was desolation. Granted, Melanie said that things were improving. The rain she'd started was all the area needed for plants to spring back to life.
But when Howard… was first released from the prison and was talking with Tamden, he'd said something about the mountain being a target. What were his exact words? It was hard to focus on remembering something that she had no frame of reference for at the time. Her mind was locked on the memory of the lab being ripped apart. She had to get herself calm as fear all but overwhelmed her.
Was the automaton actually attempting to attack her, or was it that she had been standing in the only exit? It could have been coincidence. Neither were good news.
Shivering, she drew her arms up around her. She'd never be able to forget that, would she?
Tamden … she had to find Tamden. He was the only person she'd met with more than the basic information. He'd know what was happening. But how could she find him? He hadn’t been with Howard, unless he was standing out of view.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. Rational thought happened at a heart rate under 110, she reminded herself.
She thought back to her work as a Bail Enforcement Specialist. Brief though that career was, she'd learnt a few things, like how to find people who didn't want to be found.
Who were Tamden’s known associates? Where did he call home? What were his vices and weaknesses? Her shoulders dropped as she realized he was little more than a stranger to her.
Still, he was from Blastborn or one of the two towns on this side of the mountain. He knew where she lived and that meant someone she knew may have seen him hanging around. Bernie, or Larry … or one of the constables. She could ask them … unfortunately, her description would be vague, except that he walked with an odd lean to the left. At least she knew his first name. Maybe a sketch artist could help.
Heading back to town, she wished she'd brought Kate. She’d never be seen on a velocipede – and never the high-wheel variety that the gentlemen about town seemed to enjoy racing. Not even the tangent-spoke wheel redeemed them in her eyes.
She should just jog. Who would see her? She shifted her satchel so it wouldn't smack her hip and broke into a light jog.
First, she'd check the police station. If he was known to anyone there, she'd save hours of searching. After that … he didn't seem well off, so maybe a soup kitchen? Or the hospital. Everyone needed a doctor at some point.
She still had her Bail Enforcement badge. Privacy was less of an issue when you showed an official badge and said it was important to find someone.
She had to find him, fast. She'd been such a fool. Only a crystal sage - misapplication of a name, if she'd ever heard one … could restart a lyar. She’d been anything but sagely. She'd been more interested in how it worked than if it should and she'd followed Tamden's instructions to the letter. Now Blastborn was headed towards its second real threat in less than six months.
In hindsight, her lack of diligence in verifying his identity was appalling. Fuelled by equal parts worry and anger, she made good time getting back to the city.
The hospital was closest and there was no reason to believe he wouldn't have gone there at some time in the past if need be. The physicians were well-trusted, and well-educated, for the most part. Phrenologists and those espousing radical methods were not invited to practise there.
Within an hour she was cursing her luck. No one remembered Tamden to even the smallest degree. He must have lived outside of the city and grown his own food. It was odd, though. He hadn't been to the hospital once even. Then again, he may have told her a false name.
All she'd gained was a pocket full of notes Sam had left for her with different people around the city, as well as a few items people asked her to give to him. Back home, she stuffed them in a canning jar and stuck it on a shelf. She couldn’t handle that right now.
A dead end. Blastborn was a dead end. .
She went to her workshop, hoping to distract herself with work. The lighter-than-air metal was pliable, and she'd become good at predicting it's reaction at different temperatures. There was a jump in activity every 10 degrees. She'd need a gauge nearby, or get caught off guard, she thought.
She had a lot going on here. She needed to make sure the mining permit and mineral rights were in place, then hire an expert to hire and manage miners. She needed to have her own smelting plant built. She'd worked out the specifications, but a real architect needed to get it ready for building approval.
Still, maybe she should go to Vensay and see what was really going on. She had to admit, part of her was scared. Could Howard really take down an entire mountain range, or was his hill demonstration the limit of his ability? It was a draining endeavour, to use the formulae from that book - she knew this first hand. And why was he called the Magician? Martin had drawn a distinct line between being a Sage and using magic.
Why direct his actions at her? Sure, she was the biggest threat to his success, but she suspected there was something else at play. She growled to herself in frustration. There was no way she would be able to focus on her own work until this was resolved. Before she realized what she had decided, she was packing her overnight bag, in case this took longer than she’d like. She wouldn't be gone long. Just enough to find out the facts. She needed more information, and that's where it was. Melanie might know where to find Howard. She might even know what he was planning.
If she didn’t, Sam should know. He was the leader of the intelligence community over there, after all.
// Chapter 11 //
IT WAS DARK by the time Arabeth reached the southwest area known as the checkerboard. The grid-patterned yards and houses of this square zone hid a technological marvel - a self-guiding shuttle system.
The transports could only be activated by someone with a specific silver anomaly in their blood, by using a drop of it to make the connection between the control panel and the engines. If there was another way to do it, Arabeth hadn't been told.
Lucky for Arabeth, she was born with this anomaly. It would shorten her trip to an hour instead of the days it would have taken on horseback. Luck, not fate, she insisted
She'd meant to go back to Vensay, anyway. She'd had it half-planned, her tiny travel over-night bag half-ready, for weeks. Now she couldn't move fast enough. Her cab driver refused to go into the checkerboard, saying it bothered the horses. She understood why, but just nodded. No one could stand to be in this area for long due to sonic broadcasts that irritated you, right behind the ear canal. Animals couldn't tolerate it, and smaller animals - like Marble - found it painful.
She had tucked a fist-sized chunk of the lighter-than-air metal into an interior compartment of her over-night bag, hoping to find someone who knew how to work with it, but not wanting it to be obvious she carried it.
Thankfully, Lily had agreed to stop in and put out new food and water for Marble and the kits. They would be out and exploring soon. She had the Doxie and Slate’s bed moved to her bedroom, on the far side where the light was dimmest.
Marble knew Lily and seeme
d happy to see her. The little fox had sensed something was going on with Arabeth, and stuck close to her when Slate and Doxie didn't need her. It was cute how they tried to follow, but they were still too young to do much.
Arabeth put her forefinger on the small metal pad that would gain her entrance. Wincing as a small lancet shot up and caused a drop of her blood to fall into the device behind, she waited, one foot tapping. Fate indeed. This was programming, she was sure of it. When Graham discovered how to replicate the anomaly, he'd be rich.
As the door latch clunked open, Arabeth made her way into the empty house, across the open floor and to a door on the far side. It seemed silly to have a door to a staircase you couldn't access unless the building let you in.
Maybe it was for drafts. Most of the shuttle stops were said to have areas where you could comfortably wait, for who or what, she didn't know. An open basement would cool the house off, increasing the need for someone to stock firewood or heating oil.
Downstairs, the lights came on automatically. She now understood that to be crystals reacting to her presence. In the beginning it was all a kind of magic.
Regarding magic … she paused, the man she knew only as Howard would be a force to reckon with, she supposed. He'd already disrupted lives and … well, weather patterns. Or was that her? He'd 'fixed' them, she was told. What did they mean by fix?
She sat back in the shuttle, crossing straps down over her shoulders to buckle on opposite sides of her. Her next stop would have the answers, she hoped. This had to be a short trip. She refused to miss out on watching Doxie and Slate grow up.
The shuttle shook to a start, announced the trip length as 163 minutes, and accelerated to a speed Arabeth didn't even want to guess at. As it pressed her back into the seat, she relaxed. Once it was going, the ride was smooth. She'd never get used to it, but at least the pressure and drone of the motors induced a nap.
A soft metal chime repeated every thirty seconds, drawing her out of slumber. Her dreams were a confused mess, as always. She'd like to sit a while longer, she thought, but the compartment was getting cold. She could sort her thoughts out later.
One image stuck with her as she climbed the stairs out of the tunnel. A wizard's duel. She'd read them in fiction, and enjoyed the concept. It was a battle of intellect between two equally practised and talented people. The small edge that gained victory was always moral ground, a boundary that in the end saved them. Or didn't, but saved the world. She enjoyed either ending, provided the battle was clever and good won out in the end.
In this dream, she died. She laughed. In all her dreams, she died. She suspected her brain was working out ways to avoid that conclusion. In a couple of cases, this pre-thought had saved her life. But a wizard's duel was ridiculous. One had first to be a wizard.
The bright sun and blue sky of ground level greeted her as she pushed open a stepped outside. The rain had truly stopped. Were the weather patterns truly working on a regular cycle now, or was this more of the desert-inducing stoppage that existed before her first visit?
Should she have told someone she was coming? Looking around, she had no idea where to go. It couldn't be hard, though. 'Where do I find the king?' might sound odd, but someone would point the way, eventually.
It suddenly struck her as funny that she was told to go to a place, but not why or whom was requesting her. And she'd jumped in the first shuttle could. Was it the same old pattern repeating, where she trusted the messenger without looking closely at the message?
Still, Andun was the logical choice. She wasn't going to hunt down Howard without proper insight on what he was truly doing.
Suddenly a hand tapped her shoulder, causing her to turn.
She turned and saw a familiar face.
“Kennen?”
He dropped his hand, smiling. “Greetings, Miss Barnes.”
“Is this coincidence? I didn't tell anyone I was coming.” Arabeth grinned broadly at her friend, surprised how happy she was to see the young thief-turned-friar.
He gave her a look that said, 'The wisdom of the ages is mine.'
Seeing it on the face of who was only eighteen years old, if she remembered right - she almost laughed.
A passerby glanced a little too long her direction before looking sharply away.
“Well, I am a Friar,” he chuckled. “Let's walk.”
“It's good to see a familiar face,” she matched his pace. “Tell me, are things well with you?”
He nodded. “Doing well enough. Still getting tips and hints from God, but I'm not sure I'll ever be a true friar. Now that it’s winding down, I’m wondering what comes next.”
“You’re clever. I’m sure an occupation will appeal to you, if you haven’t decided the friar’s life is your calling.”
“I’m too far outside their structure.”
More people stared as they walked by. She resisted the urge to tip her head forward, hiding her face a bit.
“They won't bother you while you're with me,” he laughed.
Puzzled, she squared her shoulders and lifted her head. “Why would they?”
“Partly because you’re famous, partly because you’re not from these parts and it shows. An unexpected side-effect of Mister Hicks' national security program is that people are hyper-vigilant right now. Their reaction to the formation of a unified policing division is that big trouble must be brewing. It's attached to the military force the King is building.”
“I thought it would be its own separate entity.”
“Advisors think it will go more smoothly as one big change instead of two.”
Arabeth stopped walking and looked to stare at Kennen. “You're one of the King's men, aren't you?” She said softly. “Not really a friar.”
He smirked. “I suppose a gadgeteer would need an active imagination.”
“It's just that … never mind. You're right. Sorry if my guess was off.”
“Where are we headed?” he asked, shrugging the comment off.
“Well, I need answers about a couple things, and I wasn't finding them back home.”
“What's the topic?”
“A science advanced enough to appear as magic to the uninitiated.”
His step faltered. “We shouldn't discuss the weather here. Let's find a quiet place to talk.”
“Seriously, how did you know I was here? If you say it was a God thing, I promise not to roll my eyes this time.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Same as last time.”
“That's uncanny, you know.”
He shrugged. “When we first met, I wasn't sure which of the four of you I was sent to help. You all travelled together at the start. This time there's no doubt.”
Out of nowhere her stomach growled. Blushing, she wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Supper?”
“Thank you, yes.” Thinking back to their first meeting, he probably would have suggested they talk over food, anyway. He was still as thin as a rake, she noted.
“There's a comfortable little eatery not far from here,” he said. “We'll be able to talk there.”
As they walked, she continued her survey of the city. This was the capital city, if the shuttle system was still labelled correctly. The dry dust, old buildings, and lack of carriages was odd. Maybe because Blastborn was a relatively new city, it wouldn't be fair to compare the two, but signs of neglect were everywhere.
The pastry shop purported to serve the best coffee this side of the mountains had no more than ten small tables inside, if Arabeth counted right. Pastries. Sam had mentioned that pastries were popular here.
“I sent a message to Sam letting him know of your arrival. The messenger is lazy, so we may beat her there. I assume you'll want to see both Melanie and King Andun?” he asked, waving at a waitress.
“What can I get you?” she called out.
“Two coffee, heavy on the cream, and split a cheese and pepper bagel,” he called back, looking at Arabeth. “You okay with that?”
She nod
ded. “How have you been?”
“I was in a little trouble at the friary after you left, but nothing I couldn't handle. They were especially irked that you took the crystals home with you, but I reminded them they'd turned you away.”
“You look well.”
“I am well,” he laughed.
He leaned back in his chair as a young girl placed the coffee and a cut and buttered bagel on the table between them.
As she walked away, he leaned forward and broke a piece off his half.
“I assume you are here because of the magician,” he said, stuffing it in his mouth.
Arabeth nodded. Of course Kennen would know.
“I've been studying the hidden sciences and I think he's going to challenge you. Historically, there can only be one crystal sage at a time, and if there are two, things can go very wrong when one tries to use their ability without the participation of the second.”
“That's … odd.”
“You're telling me. It's almost like the power gets split down the middle. To state in concrete terms, it's like you split a bag of marbles but you each would get half of each marble, never a whole one.”
“Good thing I haven't been trying to do anything, then.”
He stared at her. “It's why the rain started, like you wanted, but was torrential and unrelenting in some areas. Until he came and applied his half of the equation, it was out of balance. He is lying, saying you are bad magic and he's the one who can save Vensay from you.”
“Save it from me?”
“Well, that's another thing that's been spreading as a new truth - he says the mountains are blocking or diverting the weather systems we need. He says it's the reason food won't grow, and so forth. He’s probably right about that, but he's calling you a witch and saying that until you die, Vensay will wither and eventually perish.”
“That’s crazy talk.”
“Arabeth - we,” he waved his arms broadly around him, “still burn witches.”
“He wants me gone so that the metaphorical marbles aren't split.”