Daughter of War

by Brendan Wright

  He paced the room, noting all of the undamaged equipment. He kept prototypes and final projects in a secure hidden safe-room, so he knew they were all still in perfect condition. He entered the safe-room, gazing over the designs he'd made in secret. His mind was always working, always creating. The safe-room was another level of security in an already secret lab; the door was a seamless section of the wall, and it contained not only his prototypes and blueprints, but a workstation and a self-sustained living space.

  The first thing he had to do was protect the secrecy of the lab. With the Tyran dead his secrecy would be relatively safe, and if people assumed his death they'd have no reason to look too closely at the lab. Mara would be an unreliable witness; she would be confused about her feelings for him, and traumatised by the other girl's death. But there would of course be at least a cursory investigation at the lab; there was no way to hide the fact that the creature had originated there.

  He inspected the storeroom entrance; the doorway was mangled, the room full of scorch marks. There was no way to seal it up again. When he stepped out of the storeroom, the creature's passage through his lab was clear as day; scorch marks covered every surface, as though the building had been set on fire. There was a curious energy in the air, and his shoulder throbbed as he walked through the destroyed building. He felt something peculiar.

  Could it be? He thought, his mind racing, a transference of energy? I theorised I may be able to do it... Even hoped. But it couldn't be as simple as a touch from the creature, could it? The tingling in his shoulder grew again as he touched one of the scorch marks on the wall. A tiny spark of lightning jumped from the blackened wall to his finger. Where the spark touched he felt a tingling, but no pain.

  Through his travels, he'd encountered magic before, and even used magical artefacts and devices. He'd accepted a long time ago that magic and science could coexist, that the existence of one didn't rule out the other. And he knew that magic could be bestowed upon someone, even if they'd been born without the ability to use it.

  Focusing, he brought his hand up, staring at it as he pictured it crackle with lightning. A buzz emanated from his body, and an arc of pulsing energy leapt from his hand, slamming into the wall. He smiled. Magic, although wildly out of the bounds of conventional science, still followed rules. He'd read all he could find, and the knowledge finally paid off. He understood magic in a way that the vast majority of living beings never could, and now the ability itself was under his control.

  He wandered further down the corridor, and saw that the creature made a more or less direct path straight to the main lab on the street side of the building before crashing straight through the wall. Its path led straight from the hole in the wall to the storeroom that housed the secret entrance. It was no good; he needed confusion, misdirection. Looking again at his hands, then at the perfectly clean walls around the lab that the creature hadn't touched, he lashed out with crackling energy, covering everything he saw. He laughed as the lab smoked and burned.

  Elana

  It was her one shot. There was no way of knowing when the secret laboratory would be unattended again. She told herself it was her only option. It was her mission. It would save lives. None of it helped; she would never forget those terrible eyes.

  She couldn't kill it. It would stop Riffolk in his tracks, but it would cost an innocent life. She couldn't free it either; it had nowhere to go, and would only be recaptured or killed. Besides, Elana had no idea if it could even survive outside of the cage.

  Her only option was to try to alter the outcome of Hayne's inhumane experiment. She examined the consoles surrounding the creature closely, and the wires leading into and out of the cage even more closely. She realised some of the wires were providing the creature with food and water, and some of them were draining something out of it. After carefully observing all of the components of the experiment, Elana unsheathed her sword. Squinting her eyes and bearing through the pain of the creature's insane thoughts, she began her work.

  Don't kill it, she thought as she sliced into one of the outgoing wires, Please don't kill it. If she was right in her assumption, Riffolk had discovered how to use this mysterious creature's magical power as energy for whatever weapons he was building. If she could stop, or at least slow down, the energy being siphoned out of the poor creature... Maybe it would be enough. In the short term, at least. Until she found a way to eliminate Hayne.

  She made a few small cuts, then worried at the wires with her blade, trying to make it look naturally frayed. If it looked natural enough, Hayne might think some vermin snuck in and chewed at the wires. She damaged as many as she could, and was satisfied when needles in several of the unlabelled gauges turned down almost to zero. As she sheathed her sword, she heard thumping footsteps beyond the metal door; Hayne already knew something was wrong.

  Delving into the clear, slow focus that Shadow Magic bestowed, she traced the tattoos lining her fingers, first one hand, then the other. They tingled and glowed purple as the spell took effect. She squatted low, traced the symbols on her calves, and as soon as she felt the tingle of magic, leapt straight up to the high ceiling. Her fingers, now imbued with a binding spell, stuck to the smooth metal as though it was a part of her skin. She pulled herself into an upside down squatting position and settled into the roof, tracing the invisibility spell just as the door opened.

  The lab was brightly lit, so Elana had no chance of complete invisibility, but the ceiling was high and she was banking on Riffolk's concern about the creature to distract him; he would be staring at the cage and the "chewed" wires long enough for her to escape.

  But Hayne was unlike anyone Elana had ever seen. Despite the stakes, despite potentially losing his project, he entered the room slowly; he held a weapon in his hand, and his eyes scanned the entire room before glancing at the cage. Taking a few careful steps, weapon poised, Hayne looked ready for anything.

  "I know you're in here," he said. His voice was conversational, but flat. There was no emotion whatsoever.

  "I have many security measures in place. Whoever you are, you will not escape with your life. You've just – Ah. Hello."

  His eyes, which hadn't stopped scanning the room, finally settled on the blurred, shadowy shape of Elana.

  "One of the Shenza assassins, I presume?" His voice remained steady, his eyes cold and measuring. The weapon was pointed directly at her. Elana had seen the damage those weapons could do; they could be held and fired with one hand, but exploded like cannons, shredding and tearing the target to pieces in an instant. Elana stayed where she was, keeping the invisibility spell up.

  "I'm no assassin," she said, trying to keep her own voice as steady and emotionless as Hayne's.

  "But I will kill you if I have to."

  A subtle smile tugged at the scientist's lips, never quite reaching his eyes.

  "Feel free to try."

  Sometimes, Shanaken's isolation from the rest of Pandeia was more a burden than a blessing. The Duulshen held to their traditions though, and most of the time, Elana heartily agreed. But sometimes it was infuriating. Not a single Shenza warrior would have challenged her the way Hayne had, not even her fellow Kaizeluun. If Shanaken was better known, better understood by Pandeia, Hayne would be terrified to be in the same room as a Kaizeluun.

  She was caught. There was no use trying to hide from him. But she may still be able to get out of the lab. Hayne wouldn't tell anyone about her presence; admitting someone broke through his security to the Lord Commander would injure his reputation, perhaps stall or even stop the project. Besides, Hayne's arrogance new no bounds. In Elana's experience, arrogance was only a few steps from defeat.

  She launched from the ceiling just as Hayne fired his weapon. She shot straight down, landing coiled on the floor. The ceiling above her exploded into a mess of shredded metal. By the time Hayne's eyes and weapon were trained on her again, her sword was in her hand and she was standing, ready. His eyes widened slightly at her speed, then narrowed in
to focused slits. Even that small amount of surprise was immensely satisfying.

  Hayne's aura was almost as shocking as the creature's, though obviously nowhere near as powerful. There were layers to his energy, almost as though she was looking at several people standing in a row and seeing all of their energies on top of each other. Each layer was slightly different, not quite aligning with the others. He had no magical ability, she could see that at a glance. But there was something there. A kind of energy she'd never seen before.

  "What... are you?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. He ignored her.

  Even considering the speed and power of Hayne's weapon, Elana felt relatively confident. She'd fought the Ermoori before, after all. The only difference this time was the intelligence of the man before her. She'd never come across anyone who could design and build machines. Despite her confidence and skill, she would have to play this carefully. Other than her initial jump from the ceiling back to the floor, Elana moved as slowly and steadily as she could, keeping eye contact, her sword lowered. Riffolk was just as slow, just as careful.

  "I will kill you if I have to," she repeated, "but murder is not the mission."

  He seemed genuinely surprised.

  "What else would you be here for?"

  She gestured at the creature with her sword, careful not to move the blade too fast. The hand holding his weapon twitched the instant she moved, but he didn't fire; his reflexes were sharp. He smiled.

  "Do you know what it is? What it will do to your people?"

  She just stared. He knew the answer already; how could she know? Riffolk sighed.

  "No, of course you don't. Well, it seems we have a decision to make."

  His eyes were so, so cold. Elana tried to imagine Hayne being a loving husband to the young wife she knew was waiting for him at his mansion; she found it impossible. His marriage was either a fraud which the young girl was in on, or he was an incredible manipulator and the girl was genuinely in love with a monster. As much as it saddened Elana, she found the latter option much easier to believe.

  "I have no reason to trust you, of course," he said, "but as it stands we are both equally in danger from each other. While I don't cherish the idea of letting you live, I'll make no move to kill you if it means you leave this place tonight."

  He waved at the creature with his free hand, "you've clearly already done whatever damage you came here to do. It'll either slow me down, or it won't, but that's out of your hands now."

  A small tattoo on the inside of her palm, two parallel lines in the centre, held a vital combat spell. On intuition, she balled her left hand into a fist, ready to draw her two middle fingers along the lines. Hayne kept talking.

  "So the decision is this: leave, and we both live. Or attack, and one or both of us die. I warn you though; I have far more weapons at my disposal than this-" he lifted the weapon slightly, pointing at her face instead of her chest, "-and even if you kill me, it's unlikely you'll escape with your life."

  Elana almost laughed.

  "I got through your defences, Hayne," she said, noting his discomfort at her using his name, "I've been here for weeks."

  "And I've been monitoring you the entire time."

  No. He couldn't have known.

  "Nothing happens in this lab without my knowledge."

  She stared again, a sliver of doubt weaving through her thoughts. Had he really known she was here? Simply letting her explore the lab while watching? A cold fear stabbed her heart; was the information she'd found even true? The meeting with the Lord Commander couldn't have been an act... could it?

  A smirk spread over Hayne's lips as he watched her doubt grow. His arrogance was infuriating. He watched her chase her thoughts the way he might watch a baby animal play with an insect; idle amusement mixed with smug superiority. It looked almost as if he pitied her. If a monster like Hayne was even capable of pity.

  "So?"

  The sharpness in his voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

  "Fight or flight?"

  She balanced her sword in her hand. It was a purely habitual gesture; the Kaizuun was perfectly balanced to her, and she'd trained extensively with it. Hayne noticed, widened his stance and brought his weapon up. Her weight was balanced perfectly on the balls of her feet, her centre of gravity low. Her body was relaxed but prepared for sudden movement. She dipped into the magic within the Kaizuun, feeling the energy and strength it held flow into her.

  Hayne reached into a pocket with his free hand, and Elana moved before his hand had touched whatever it was reaching for. Her fingers dragged up her palm and a black circle bloomed around her forearm. He fired his weapon, the noise deafening. Her shield took the brunt of the attack, but ragged pain seared her thigh as she ran at him. She kept her shield raised and cannoned into him, throwing all of her weight into the attack. He flew backwards, smashing into the metal door on the opposite side of the room and spilling into a heap on the ground.

  His left hand held a small device, and although he was no longer conscious, a red light blinked on its face, painting his hand and face a sickly shade of orange. Clanking and whirring echoed from somewhere in the building, growing louder. Elana sheathed her sword and leapt for the ceiling in one move, crawling along the smooth surface as quickly and easily as running on the ground.

  As she reached the vent in the ceiling, she realised too late she'd forgotten to reactivate the invisibility spell; the device Hayne had planted screamed and exploded right next to her head.

  Riffolk

  It was time to take control. He'd tried working under the Twelve Crowns, making himself indispensable and providing Ermoor with a new technological era. He'd tried working in secret, continuing the project without the involvement of the Crowns so that he could work without the bureaucratic nonsense they imposed.

  There was one path of action left to him, if he wanted to finally finish his work. He needed access to the power and resources of Ermoor, without the approval of the Twelve Crowns. Nobody in Ermoor knew who the Twelve Crowns were. Nobody knew where they lived or where they met. They governed from the shadows. Unfortunately for them, Riffolk had decided years ago that he wasn't willing to work for people he couldn't meet or keep track of. Finding them had been difficult, but well within his capabilities.

  Some of their identities had surprised him; his own father, for example. But regardless of the names attached to the Crowns, they were in his way. A plan formed in his mind. He set to work with a smile on his face.

  The underground lab was lit again. There was nowhere near as much power as he'd had before, with the creature, but enough to use the scaled down equipment in his safe-room. Once he covered up the creature's tracks and built a makeshift door in the storeroom out of shelves and a section of the lab wall, he'd filled one of his energy orbs with lightning. The first one exploded, but after some tinkering, he was able to charge them directly in his hands.

  The image transmitting device, which for want of a better term he'd dubbed the television, sat on one of the small benches in the small space. He set up two transmitters, one in the underground lab and one in the corridor outside the safe-room entrance, which sent images to the television. He could flick between them using a switch, but for now it was set on the corridor; if anyone approached, he needed to see them before they potentially found the secret entrance.

  He kept the main underground lab dark and empty, just in case. No light escaped from the safe-room, he'd tested it when he first set it up. The false shelf acting as a door looked heavy, but could be moved easily; so he had fast access to and from the lab. Fog would have helped a lot, but the weather was turning warm; so he only left the lab and returned under cover of darkness.

  Five of the Twelve were dead, including his father. He'd set each one up to look like an accident. The look on Sir Isaac Hayne's face as he died brought a shiver of pleasure down Riffolk's spine. His father had ever been a damper on his work. Despite all the public comments he made about being proud of his son, h
is actions told another tale. As useless a Crown as he was a father, Riffolk was not at all sad to see him die. Planning the act had been a joy in and of itself; he had to make sure there were no witnesses, no evidence, and nothing to shed a suspicious light on the man's death. It had been a puzzle he'd greatly enjoyed solving.

  Since no one knew the identities of the Twelve but themselves and Riffolk, having all twelve of them die in a short time wasn't going to be suspicious beyond the fact of a spate of sudden accidents. There would be investigations, possibly, but Ermoor would go on without realising their leaders were dead. Their layers of secrecy made his work relatively easy. It was almost laughable; in staying so well hidden, they'd guaranteed their deaths would go unnoticed.

  The one thing he couldn't be sure of was Symonds' reaction; he didn't know if the Lord Commander knew any of the Twelve's identities, or if he would recognise their absence for what it was. He knew it was fairly common for only one or a few of the Twelve to meet with him at a time, and he'd be able to take advantage of that in the short term. But beyond that his knowledge of what Symond knew was severely lacking.

  He would overcome that obstacle when he came to it; in the meantime, his focus was the complete destruction of the highest levels of Ermoori Government, to be replaced by himself. His research had uncovered far more information than just their names; he knew how they accessed the city's treasury, where their records and archives were kept, the contacts they held both internally and in other countries... He had enough to effectively take over with little to no negative effect on Ermoor itself.