The Vespus Blade

by Scott Baron

  “They’re both assassins, you idiot!” their leader growled as he sped past. “Hurry! There’s no way off that trail. Have the others go the opposite direction. We’ll box them in.”

  It was a foot race, and though the assassins had a head start, they had been seen. More importantly, they had nowhere to run to. And with the full force of Emmik Drazzix’s guards now closing in from both directions, there was simply no way they would escape. Not even two of them could handle that many men.

  Then, as he watched with confusion, the two fleeing intruders abruptly turned at a sharp angle, racing not along the path or toward the stronghold’s wall, but to the cliff’s edge.

  “They’re not stopping. What are they thinking?” the man wondered as he watched them, dumbfounded.

  None who landed on the water’s surface had ever survived more than a few moments. The Nazgari were keen hunters, and the splash and commotion of that first impact always drew them in like hunters to their prey within seconds. To jump was suicide.

  And yet, side by side, the fleeing duo did just that, launching themselves from the safety of land into the open air. They fell out of sight, plummeting toward the water below.

  But there was no splash.

  The guards raced to the edge, magic ready for anything. Anything but the large ship that quickly rose in front of them and flew off in a flash, two escaping killers already dropping through a hatch to the safety of the vessel’s interior.

  “Send our ships after them!” the guard yelled, but it was already too late.

  Bud banked hard, then climbed steeply toward the relative safety of space. And as soon as they were kissing the atmosphere’s edge, they jumped, the ship vanishing in a magical flash.

  “Where are we off to?” Hozark asked as he and Demelza shed their disguises while entering the command chamber.

  “We’re headed for a backup location. Laskar jumped on it and plotted it out as soon as you skreed for that emergency pickup when the alarm sounded.”

  Hozark nodded his thanks to the copilot. “Well done, Laskar. You have my thanks.”

  The ship dropped out of the jump in a distant system. One where no one was looking for them or trying to kill them. At least, not at the moment. The way things had been going, that could change at any time, it seemed.

  Hozark relayed what had happened to the others, who listened with rapt attention.

  “A Wampeh Ghalian did it? You’re sure?” Bud asked.

  “It would seem that way,” Hozark replied.

  “And Drazzix was hired by the Council?”

  “A member of it, yes.”

  They all sat silently a long moment before the pilot spoke again.

  “So, what in the worlds do we do now?”

  “Now?” Hozark said. “Now we inform Corann.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  The flight back to regroup with the leader of the Five was diverted unexpectedly. Hozark had directed Uzabud to stop at a seemingly innocuous little world along the way. A world that just happened to also be a hub for Ghalian communications.

  But so far as Bud and Laskar knew, they had merely stopped for a short respite and to pick up some fresh provisions. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his crewmates, it was that this was simply one of those things Ghalian never spoke of. It was part of what kept them alive this long. A secret network in plain sight in systems all across the galaxy.

  And only full-fledged Ghalian knew where they were.

  With the concern that a Ghalian was potentially working off-contract, cleaning the trail for the Council of Twenty, now a very real threat, word had to be passed along, and an entirely new set of passcodes enacted while the Five decided how best to deal with this situation.

  Their communications were secure, as they were locked within the minds of those carrying them, though occasionally on parchment as well, the words typically self-destructing with a magical flash upon reading. Whatever was going on, those working for the order had to be kept safe.

  But as he handed off the message to be forwarded to the network at large, something unexpected happened.

  “A message waiting for me?”

  “Yes, Master Hozark.”

  “But none knew I would be coming to this world.”

  “That is correct, Master Hozark. For this reason, the same message has been transmitted across the systems awaiting you at whichever world you should arrive at next. And now that it has been relayed, I shall inform the others, and the message will be purged from the collective.”

  It was most unexpected. And it was also disconcerting. For Corann to have gone to these lengths, something quite serious must be afoot. And in light of what they had just learned, he could only wonder what that might be.

  “Wait, we’re going where, now?” their pilot asked.

  “You heard correct. We are changing our destination to Etratz.”

  “But that’s nowhere near where we were planning on––”

  “I am aware, Bud. But this is where we are going now. Laskar, will you please plot the new jump for us?”

  “You got it, Boss,” the copilot said, confused but not about to step into the middle of that conversation.

  “It’s not normal, man. Up and changing things so abruptly when we’ve got such pressing information,” Bud said.

  “I am aware. And I appreciate your concern. Truly, I do. But this is a directive from Corann herself.”

  Laskar paused from his task. “How did you even hear from her, anyway? I mean, it’s not like you skreed her. At least, not that I’ve seen.”

  “It was a fluke,” Hozark lied. “I happened to spot a fellow Ghalian when we were resupplying, and they relayed that she had departed her residence and was now on Etratz. Had we flown to her on Inskip, we would have received the same message, only several days later. So, you see, this good fortune saves us many extraneous days of travel.”

  “You spotted another Ghalian here? The most secretive, elusive order of assassins in the galaxy, and you just happened upon one of your buddies?” Laskar asked.

  “It is not quite so wildly unlikely as that. You see, we have certain systems in which we often resupply. Nothing terribly exciting, but the odds of encountering one of the order drastically increase given that fact. Still, you are correct, it is a rather rare occurrence. Fortune, it seems, was smiling upon us today.”

  Whether or not Laskar bought the story was unclear, but Hozark didn’t much care at this moment. What he did care about was that they needed to get to Corann as quickly as was reasonable.

  Three days’ transit was how long the re-routing had taken them. And in that period, Hozark and his friends had spent a great deal of time going over what they’d learned thus far.

  Someone had started a ball in motion. One that would ultimately lead to the capture of Aargun and the near-fatal wounding of a master Ghalian in the process. It was something a great deal of care and planning had gone into. But it was more than just that. Someone had fairly intimate knowledge of several aspects of Ghalian contracts. Not necessarily how they were handled from start to finish, but enough to take advantage of their unlikely intelligence.

  The final group truly had no idea what they were doing besides handing off a package to someone as they’d been instructed to, or setting a trap for any who would perhaps retrace those steps.

  What their prey had apparently not anticipated was the degree of perseverance Hozark possessed. It must have put them quite on edge when they realized just how close the assassin was getting to unmasking them and discovering their true identity.

  And when Emmik Drazzix was found dead, slain by Samara, most likely, the clue as to his hiring to begin the whole process had turned things quite on its head. It hadn’t just been a Council-affiliated person seeking to make a name for themselves by taking out a Ghalian. It was one of the Council of Twenty themselves who had targeted the order. And that had greater implications.

  Implications that could draw the entire order into a conflict.
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  But with the anonymous seal, it could be any one of them who set that plan in motion. And with all of the backstabbing and plotting within the Council, there was simply no taking action until they had something more concrete in hand.

  And that was about to materialize.

  “Master Corann,” Demelza said as she strode into the cozy bungalow the leader of the Five was currently calling home. “It is good to see you.”

  “Demelza. I am pleased at your return,” she replied, but her signature warmth seemed particularly forced today. Something had unsettled her, and for that to happen, it must have been significant.

  “Hozark,” she said as her associate joined them.

  “Corann.”

  “The others?”

  “I have instructed them to offload some supplies and then load some others,” he said with a grin. “It should keep them occupied for a little while. Now, what is this all about? We have information you will find most interesting, but something tells me your news may be more pressing.”

  Corann cut right to the chase.

  “Aargun has been located,” she said, a flash of rage flickering behind her motherly gaze.

  “And he is alive?” Demelza asked.

  “So far as we know, though not for much longer, I fear, given where he is being held.”

  “Where is he, Corann?” Hozark asked.

  “Actaris,” she replied.

  “That is not good.”

  “No, my friend, it is not.”

  Demelza was a little surprised by the two master Ghalians’ demeanor. For them to react this way was unusual, to say the least. “What is Actaris?” she asked. “The name is familiar, but I don’t recall why, exactly.”

  “A Council black site and stronghold,” Hozark replied, sharing Corann’s grim look. “One of the worst. It has always been something of an off-book facility. An interrogation and torture location available to Council members should they need it.”

  “So, it’s not a normal Council operation?” Demelza mused. “Then perhaps it is only minimally staffed. We could––”

  “We will,” Corann interrupted. “It is fully staffed, and those within its walls are armed and trained. But we are going to Actaris. We are going to retrieve our brother and deal with those responsible.”

  The look in the woman’s eye told Demelza all she needed to know about her commitment to the plan. She was an angry mama bear, and heaven help whoever it was who had harmed her cub.

  “Actaris? You’ve got to be shitting me!” Laskar said when he learned of their destination. “It’s a freakin’ Council stronghold. You said so yourself––it’s a fortress.”

  “And the Council’s overconfidence in their safety will be their undoing,” Corann said. And her word was final.

  In this one, rare instance, even Laskar knew when to keep his mouth shut.

  The beginnings of the plan were already in motion before they had arrived. Corann had called in many of their vast network of spies to facilitate their entry into the fortress. Any information, any revisions to the security protocols, would need to be gathered before they struck.

  “The information will be awaiting us on Vandorag,” Corann informed them as they boarded the ship to stow the last of their supplies. But they wouldn’t be leaving. Not yet.

  Her own shimmer ship would soon be docked alongside Hozark’s on the hull, another craft ready and waiting to be deployed in this assault. But for the moment, it sat by, awaiting her.

  “Okay, plotting a course to Actaris,” Laskar said.

  “Not just yet,” the Master Ghalian replied, composing herself and turning to Master Hozark. “First I have something I must do. And Master Hozark, I need something from the Three.”

  “The what?” Laskar asked.

  “It is a Ghalian thing,” Hozark replied, not elucidating any further.

  The Three were the members of the order tasked with keeping the location and access secrets of the Ghalian cache of weapons and wealth. It was a deliberately small number, and access to those items was likewise complex and required some effort.

  The Three had set the wards and defenses on the hidden vault, and they had likewise hidden several sets of magical passkeys in systems across the galaxy. No one could access the vault without the right combination of them. Defenses had been layered upon it for millennia. Deadly magic only the Three could disarm.

  With all of the magic piled upon the facility, even if someone were to learn its location, any serious attempt to break in would result in their demise. And if someone of a visla’s power were to try to overcome the defenses, not only would their actions incinerate the contents, but they would quite possibly destroy a chunk of the planet in the process.

  “I will handle it, Corann,” Hozark said. “Come, let us discuss this further before we depart.”

  They stepped away from the others and walked to a quiet room. One with ample muting wards in place to prevent any from overhearing what was said inside.

  “The Three, Corann? What do you have in mind?” Hozark asked.

  “I need something special from the vaults,” she replied. “I need you to fetch me a claithe.”

  Hozark nearly blanched at the suggestion, and for him, that was saying something. “A claithe? Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “But you will need to feed, then. And a lot, at that.”

  “I am aware, Hozark.”

  “And the risk––”

  “Despite the risk, it must be done. You are one of the Three. Reach the others and make this so.”

  “I will,” he replied, more than a little reticent at the thought of unleashing such a weapon.

  “And while you are there, do stock yourself up for the incursion,” she added with her trademark smile. “We will not be leaving any living, I think. And now, I believe I will see to that feeding you mentioned. You will be back before I am, so when I return, be prepared to depart immediately.”

  With that, Corann left to drain several power users she’d kept track of for just such an emergency. Bad men and women she would drain dry without a contract taken out on them, despite Ghalian norms. Sometimes, one had to work outside the standard ways of doing things. This was one such occasion.

  As for Hozark, he steeled himself for the task before him. It would be easy to contact the other members of the Three. None were in deep cover at the moment. But a claithe? It was a weapon so powerful and dangerous, even most vislas did not dare use one, lest they kill themselves along with everyone around them.

  Corann possessed the will to control it, yes. But could she hold onto that when things got crazy and the spells and projectiles were flying? He sincerely hoped so, for if not, they would all meet a rather grisly end.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  The Three were a known part of the Ghalian order, yet only the Five were ever privy to who actually made up the Three. Sometimes, one, or even more, of the Five were members of the Three, but, more often than not, it was other high-ranking Ghalian who made up their ranks.

  Of course, in a profession such as theirs, one of their number would fall from time to time. In such instances, the Five would select a replacement, and the remaining two would individually meet with and reveal the secrets of the Three to the new member.

  It was a way to ensure no one would ever be able to pillage the order’s vast stores of wealth, weapons, and power. And should the location somehow become compromised, there were backup portal egresses to remove and salvage the most valuable of their items.

  Portals, however, were incredibly rare, insanely hard to cast and open, and they required such massive amounts of power that none even attempted them except in times of absolute need, and even then, most failed.

  The Wampeh Ghalian, however, had been acquiring power for millennia, and though they never took Ootaki hair from the poor slaves they occasionally freed from their ill-intending owners, they did possess quite a quantity of previously shorn Ootaki hair, likewise taken in the course of t
heir contracts.

  To leave it behind would have been foolish, and to destroy it a waste of a perfectly good resource. One that they now used to power the last line emergency defenses of their secret vault, as well as a few of their training houses.

  Hozark had been one of the Three since before he was made one of the Five, though the two events had happened in fairly rapid succession when a large number of Ghalian fell while completing their contracts during an enormous flare-up of violence against the Council of Twenty.

  The order was not part of the conflict, but sometimes even peripheral players could fall victim to the machinations of war’s brutality. It was part of the reason the Ghalian did not engage in war and never took sides.

  They did, however, give preferential treatment to contracts that might negatively affect the Council of Twenty. And now they were doing so once more, it seemed. And not a lackey or peripheral player, but an actual Council member, no less.

  Hozark had sent the fastest couriers on hand to get word to the other two members of his exclusive group. Their keys were needed at the stronghold vault, and he would meet them there. Fortunately, both were relatively nearby, no more than a day’s travel at most.

  “I will be gone for two days,” Hozark informed his shipmates.

  “Hang on. You guys made it seem like this was some crazy urgent thing we were doing here. Now you and Corann are both going off and leaving us here for a few days? What’s up? This doesn’t make any sense,” Laskar said.

  “Resources are needed for our task, and we are both fetching them,” was the reply.

  That didn’t mean much to the non-Ghalian, but for Demelza, it was confirmation of something interesting. From what had been said, Hozark was one of the Three. And he was getting some of the truly big weapons for this mission.

  “Do not worry, my friends. They will be back soon enough. This is but a brief delay, and one that will allow you to entertain yourselves in town a little before we engage in this task,” Demelza said.