Anora couldn’t tell if she was attractive or not; they all looked a little puffy to her and there was no getting past that smell, anyway. She was also a little underdeveloped for fourteen, but Humans grew slowly so she supposed it was normal. The only thing that recommended her to Anora was that Mercy was openly horrified by the man’s injuries. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, and her wide eyes were a little teary; she did not seem to share her people’s comfort with violence. Strangely, she nodded and made little affirmative noises even when no one was talking to her, which reminded Anora that she had always been a little unusual.
The Human was a queer choice, but Anora didn’t let it bother her. She had long ago elected to trust his judgment and had never regretted it.
“Let’s get some distance from here,” Orin suggested.
“I have things in my car that I need. Let me bring it around and I’ll follow you.”
“All right.”
She turned back when Mercy called out to her worriedly, “Anora, do you know where Scythe is?”
“No.”
“Can you contact him?”
“I will, when I reach my car.”
The girl relaxed, “Okay, good. I need to tell him something important.”
“All right.”
She jogged to her car, which she had parked a short distance from the building. She brought it around to where the truck was starting to move forward. She pulled out the small display, laying it on the passenger seat and entering her passcode. A message came up immediately.
[encoder enabled]
[verifying]
[falcon program initiated]
[verifying]
[red eye enabled]
[verifying]
[host id: ano775]
[negotiating connection]
[guest id: scy241]
[failed]
[connecting to dropbox.ano775]
[messages: 1]
[msg001: guest id: scy241] : security is compromised_contact me before you proceed_be cautious <
She followed the truck closely, one hand on the wheel and the other hastily entering a message since he hadn't respond to her hail.
[connecting to dropbox.scy241]
[host id: ano775]: have taken care of list_am with your team minus one_summer is mia_you have our location q<
[message transmitted]
It was a while before he responded. Meanwhile, she continued to follow Orin into the center of the city. She kept glancing at the display, which she had moved to her lap. Finally, a reply popped up.
[hail: guest id: scy241]
[accept]
[negotiating connection]
[guest id: scy241]: urgent_turn east now and leave the city_do not go north<
She cursed again and increased her speed. Just as she began to pull alongside the truck, the building next to her blew up. The explosion rocked her car, which swerved into the corner of the building, showering it with glass and chunks of wall. Inside, her body huddled up against the driver’s door. She cradled her head, her hands plastered over her ears, but the damage had already been done. The pain struck in waves, and all she could do was close her eyes and wait. When she could bear it, she opened her eyes and dropped her shaking hands; she stared down at the blood in her right hand.
Then she looked up and groaned. Several other buildings on the street had been damaged and were on fire; smoke rose from them in billowy, puffy waves and the street was littered with debris. People moved around in a frenzy, some running away, others searching frantically in the rubble. She could hear muffled noises in one of her ears, but the right side was silent.
There was no sign of the truck.
Chapter 25
Scythe checked the screen again, but the dot kept moving forward. He gripped the display so tightly that it made a cracking sound and he forced himself to relax. He put the device back in his pocket and concentrated on breathing.
He stood next to Temper in a formal study that was easily the most elegant room he had ever seen. Heavy drapes lined with precious gems hung from the ceiling, framing the nooks where life-sized paintings of famous Kin hung. The ornate, wooden floor was pieced together with woods of different hues from all over the world in an immense geometric mosaic, and the furniture seemed to grow up from it: beautiful slender wooden chairs and tables with curved, organic profiles.
“You should sit,” Temper recommended, lifting her hand in a smooth arc and then letting it descend, three fingers extending out toward the seat next to her.
“No, thank you,” he said and counted the buttons on each painting again to calm himself. She had started to transform into this marionette of extreme propriety as soon as they had entered the building. It had begun slowly, with a slight change in tone and posture, and then advanced with greater speed and intensity as they made their way through the various check points required for an impromptu meeting with the Protector of the Kin. He barely recognized her now. He did notice, though, that the change in her resulted in more respectful responses and quicker service from the people they had to get permission from to move forward. So, while it seemed foreign to him and he hoped he would never need to use such knowledge, he memorized her tone, gestures, and phrases.
Misunderstanding his perusal of the room, she commented, “You don’t need to be concerned about security here.”
“I’m not,” he said. On the contrary, it seemed to him to be the safest place imaginable. They had gone through so many security stations that he was feeling embarrassed that they were here to inform the King of a threat to his family. Who would believe it? The place was a fortress. In addition, there were guards, both visible and hidden, in every room, even the hallways; the King must have had dozens employed just to safeguard him.
She slowly blinked, something that he had finally figured out was a smaller but more sophisticated form of a nod.
He wanted to ask how much longer it would take, but knowing wouldn’t make time move any faster, and he was afraid she might do something equally unsettling. He was already uneasy about having been stripped of all his weaponry, even the innocuous backup ones like pens, so he looked straight forward and counted heartbeats. And breaths. For both of them.
Finally, the door at the far end of the room opened and their most recent guide rejoined them. He said, “Please, if you would grace us…” and stood holding the door with a kindly smile until they passed him.
Surprisingly, the room beyond was much smaller, perhaps only the size of an entire house, but no less impressive. The mosaic flowed smoothly into it through the doorway and circled the room several times before ending in a delicate spiral in the middle. Hanging from a cone shaped, dizzingly high ceiling by braided chains was a large, round stone basin that was suspended just a foot over the floor’s center. A fire burned warmly in it, and around the fire, small groupings of chairs faced each other comfortably.
Gently closing the door behind him, the short, older man turned and announced, “Our Lord will see his fair cousin Temper, Mistress of the Blood.”
Temper bowed her head, “Thank you.”
“However, it is regrettable that your companion is unfit to stand in Our Lord’s presence.”
“Excuse me?” Temper exclaimed with the first bit of emotion he had seen past the third interview.
Scythe was far from disappointed. He hoped that he would be led out to where his things were, but quickly learned that he wasn’t lucky enough to be slighted this time.
“As you well know, Humans and their progeny are below the notice of the King. Therefore, we ask that your companion wait behind this screen for the duration of the interview.” He led them over to a set of four chairs, beside which was a large, five panel screen that stood in a crescent shape around another chair.
Studiously ignoring her unseemly battle for control, the steward continued, “This is the only way Our Lord will be able to meet with you tonight.” He turned to Scythe, gratified at his lack of offense. “If you would?”
Within the space of a pair of minutes he saw it. If this were the night of the vision, that meant that the terrorist attack would start soon, making the type of disruption that would provide the perfect cover for an attack on a high profile target. He laid the portable on his lap.
“Temper...” he began as the guide, who had finally won the woman's grudging acceptance of the situation, adjusted the screen around his chair and blocked his view of her.
“Please do not speak or draw attention to yourself in any way or the interview will be terminated and there is a chance that, depending upon the King’s level of offense, charges may be brought against you.
“Okay, but he’s not here yet, right?”
A pause. “No. You may speak momentarily, but keep the restrictions in mind when Our Lord appears.”
“I understand." He waited until he heard the sounds of the man's departure before he whispered, "Temper, I’m starting to suspect that there will be an attack on the Capital by the terrorists tonight, to cover the assassination attempt.”
“Why is that?” she asked.
“Things are converging,” he said, not knowing how to explain it better.
“What things?”
“Events, the facts we’ve uncovered, and...what I know about the visions.”
“You are sure?”
He heard a door open and knew it was his cue to be silent. He risked a very low, “No.”
“Cousin,” a voice called out to her that was more friendly than Scythe had anticipated. “It has been a long while.” Steps crossed the room, skirting the fire and stopping just beyond the screen.
“My Lord,” she said.
“Come, we are family,” and Scythe heard the rustling on clothing that indicated a hug.
“My Lord, I wish I were here on a social visit…”
He laughed, “That is a strange thing to say. You hate the palace.”
“Fair enough. Then, I wish I were here on a family visit, but I need to speak with you about an urgent matter.”
“Here, sit.”
“Thank you. Your wife and my cousin the prince are well?”
“Of course. We were reading together when I was informed of your request. What is this about?” His tone shifted subtly.
“My companion and I...believe there might be an attempt on them, and on yourself…”
“What?”
“Very soon. Perhaps...perhaps tonight. My Lord Cousin, are you sure they are safely guarded, even here?”
He stood, “Of course, unless you or your companion is the threat. No enemy could get this far into the palace.”
“My Lord!”
“I am not accusing you, Temper. I know you from long ago and trust your judgment in the case of your friend. I am merely telling you that it is impossible to get to this place undetected.” However, instead of returning to his seat, he began pacing. “How is it that you suspect an attack on my family, but I’ve not heard a hint from Intelligence about it? The Scere is not involved in such things.”
“My Lord, my companion is a Special Agent of the Hedeler and has uncovered hints of a plot in his pursuit of the terrorists in the Southern Sun region.” She added, “I would not come, unless I had a real fear, for you, Cousin, and your okin.”
“Come,” The King gave his pacing better employment and let her toward the exit. “Your companion, too.”
“Scythe,” Temper stood and pulled back the screen. Then they followed the King’s retreating form through the doorway and into a narrow hall. Scythe put away his tablet, thinking that at this point, he had no choice but to trust in Anora or accept that Mercy’s visions could not be avoided. Either way, he couldn’t do anything about it at the moment.
“This is the only way into our private chambers,” the tall, thin man explained as he walked ahead of them.
Scythe looked back down the long, narrow hall. It was very defensible...a single soldier could hold it easily...and it made for a handy trap, if one could be sure of reinforcements coming up from behind. No place for guards past the entrance, though.
The hall ended at a wall, where two guards stood watch, both eyeing Temper and Scythe closely. The King took the left passage without slowing and called out, “Jeaon.”
The wall on the right abruptly ended and revealed a large, round room similar in style to the one they had just left, except that the ceiling was of a reasonable height and the fireplace was missing. Instead, the light that filled the room came from more than a hundred glowing blown glass spheres that were hung by thin cords and hovered just above their heads. Below them was something that resembled a typical Kin gathering room, with comfortable furniture and tables for eating, talking or game playing. The only thing it lacked was the presence of family.
Along the outer wall, archways gave access to the personal rooms for each family member. There were over a dozen, but most lacked the warm glow that indicated someone resided within. From one of the lit rooms a woman appeared, “Yes, Flight...My Lord,” she corrected herself quickly after seeing that they were not alone.
The King released a breath he had been holding and went to her, taking her into his embrace. She accepted it, but it was obvious that she was startled by his open show of affection in front of others. Scythe politely averted his eyes and turned his body a little to the side.
“My Lady Temper,” the woman said, “it is good to see you. You haven’t visited.”
“No. I have been remiss in my duties to you and my cousin. I…” she seemed uncertain how to proceed. Scythe was also feeling that perhaps they had been a little hasty and was wondering again what the repercussions were for disturbing the King of the Kin with false assassination warnings.
However, showing no signs of anger, the King said amiably, “Come, sit. You must see our son, Temper. He has grown since your last visit.” He disappeared into their room.
Scythe didn’t know what the appropriate thing to do was, so he stood quietly next to Temper. The King’s wife crossed the room, “Who have you brought, cousin? Is that…?”
“This is Special Agent Scythe, a member of the Scere L’Hedeler.”
Scythe bowed to her.
“You brought a halfblood into the private quarters of the King?” The woman's expression was torn between appalled and admiring. “How was it even permitted?”
“It was the King, not I, who brought him here. We had an urgent need to speak with him.”
“About what?”
“Here he is, my son,” the King announced proudly, carrying a young boy of about five years over to them. “Greet your cousin Temper, Dragon.”
The boy nodded his head from his perch in his father’s arms and said, “It is my ‘onor.”
Temple smiled and held out her arms for the boy, “He has grown, and respectably, as well.”
“Of course, he is the Prince.” The King hugged his wife, but his eyes did not leave his son. The boy, on the other hand, only had eyes for Scythe.
Scythe continued to try to not exist.
“I can’t believe you gave him such a name.”
An arm reached out to touch black, spiky hair that inexplicably slid out of range.
“What? Dragon? It is a good name for a king.”
With no regard for his own safely, the boy extended the length of his body to stretch out farther. His fingers wiggled in anticipation as they neared their target.
“Yes, but so strong. I would think it a burden, for anyone.”
Scythe moved only his eyes
and the boy, meeting them, froze in wonder. Slowly, Dragon smiled. “Green.” He turned to his father, who was watching closely, “His eyes are big and green.”
“Yes, that’s right, son.” The King looked directly at Scythe for the first time, “I suppose it is useless to try to keep up the pretense that you aren’t here, since my son has taken an interest and he isn’t likely to give up. My steward will be very put out, but there is no preventing it now.”
Temper introduced Scythe to the King, “My Lord, this is Special Agent Scythe, a member of the Scere L’Hedeler.”
“The traditions of my position are old and often filled with outdated practices like the one you were subjected to today; however, they are necessary for a variety of reasons, some of which, you may be surprised to know, serve to protect you.” Scythe didn’t know how that could be true, but he trusted that the Protector of the Kin would know more about it than he would.
Scythe again did not know what the appropriate response was, but he did know that he was not supposed to speak, so he merely ducked his head and bowed.
Growing impatient, Dragon reached out both hands to Scythe. He frowned and puckered his mouth stubbornly when Scythe shook his head firmly.
Halfblood Journey Page 38