Halfblood Journey

by Rheaume, Laura

  However, he had moved fast enough to put a lot of distance between them; her connection to him was pulled thinner and thinner until, just before she got to the door, she felt him throw her off. After struggling with the door, she stepped out into an empty alley. She looked left and right and then cursed. She had no idea which way to go.

  -----------

  Temper said, “We were able to make last minute arrangements for them. I do apologize for the late hour.”

  “That is not a problem, it is just so sudden…” Heron’s mother said, patting her daughter on the shoulder. The little girl looked like she was about to cry.

  Temper and the two agents she brought with her to “carry the bags” had been shown into the living room where Ian was relating stories with enthusiasm to Heron’s family. She informed him and the family at the same time that new accommodations for them had been acquired and they would be leaving within the hour. Temper could tell that Ian was confused, but he adapted to the situation smoothly.

  He stood and said, “I guess I’ll go ready my things and get Mercy up.”

  Temper and her assistants accompanied him, but didn’t speak, which made him even more nervous. He started to walk faster. When he reached their suite, he strode to the door to her room and, finding it locked, knocked on it.

  “Mercy, open the door, honey.” When there was no answer, he knocked louder and called again, “Mercy, open the door.” A small frown appeared above his eyes and he seemed to be listening. Then, the frown was washed away by a wave of surprise and a sharp intake of air.

  He went very still and then, without warning, the lock broke on the door. Along with the handle. And the doorjamb. The door had burst open at only the lightest touch of his hand; in fact, to Temper, touching the door seemed like an afterthought. The agents behind her shifted nervously, and she didn’t blame them.

  Ian rushed inside and, after scanning the room, went into the bathroom. Mercy wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  Ian said, “I thought she was sleeping in here. I haven’t seen her all afternoon.”

  “Did you see her enter here?” They checked the other room and the bathroom. Nothing.

  He was beginning to panic. “No. I came back from our meeting and I was going to show her the letter, but her room was locked. I assumed...Why did I do that?...I assumed she was sleeping.” He went to check Scythe’s room, and Temper followed him.

  Temper signaled to her assistants, “Get everything packed up immediately.” They turned and went back inside. In Scythe’s room, Temper spoke while she picked up what little had been left by the police and stuffed it into Scythe’s favorite backpack, “Did anyone tell you anything? Who did you see?”

  “Um...well, nobody was around.” He helped her finish and followed her back to his room.

  “Use the communication display and ask as calmly as you can if anyone has seen her.”

  “Okay.”

  When no one knew where she was, they requested a search of the estate. Forty-five minutes later, no one could find any trace of her.

  “We were playing together before lunch…” Cersset said for the fourth time.

  “We know dear. Do not be afraid, I’m sure she will be found in the garden, or perhaps she took a short walk.”

  Ian’s state had been worsening by the moment, but had suddenly calmed. She suspected he was doing something with his power, because he had become very still and appeared to be concentrating again.

  For her own part, Temper was frustrated. Each person they had talked to displayed no signs of deceit. They all genuinely did not know where she was. Heron was the last one to see her, but he had gone to his aunt’s house for the evening. They called him on the video com and soon saw an image of him on the display. He was working out hard enough to be drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. He said with a steady voice and an unwavering stare, “She asked me if she could take a nap after we had eaten in the atrium. I left her there and have not seen her since. I will come home immediately.” He, like the rest of the family present, was surprised and concerned at the girl’s disappearance. She didn’t fail to notice, however, Tiburon’s absence.

  Ian turned to Temper and said, “She is not here. She is not within three blocks of here.”

  “Perhaps she was taken from the garden,” she suggested. “I was told that there is a gate that leads off the estate.” It seemed to be the only reasonable explanation, in light of the family’s responses.

  Ian nodded.

  Heron’s mother said, “We are greatly troubled by Mercy’s absence, Ian, and we will continue to search the house and the surrounding areas. If she just took a walk, then she could be back at any minute.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” He forced out the reply, and then said to Temper, “I think we should go.”

  Temper nodded, laying her hand firmly on Ian’s shoulder as she had seen him do to Scythe. She told Neruna, “If you hear of her, please contact me immediately. We will be leaving now.”

  The four of them left in Temper’s large car. As they headed down the street, Ian said, “Please go slowly.” He maintained his focus for the entire drive, but he was unable to detect anything useful.

  Finally, they arrived at one of the homes belonging to the Scere. To safeguard the Youngs, Temper had assigned two Special Agents to the house; they had been securing the place since she had notified them earlier that day. However, with Mercy taken from what they thought was a good location, she didn’t feel as confident about her precautions as she had before. She immediately assigned three more agents to the duty. Once she was sure that Ian would stay in the house and not run off to rashly search for his daughter, as he obviously wanted to do, she left the building and strode to her car. The first thing she needed to do was report Mercy as a missing Human to the authorities; she wanted to make sure that, if the city police did run across her, they didn’t take her for a stray terrorist. When she was done with that, she would need to break the news that Mercy had been taken right from under their noses to one other person.

  “Watcher,” one of the agents called, running to catch her before she drove off. “A message has come for you.”

  -----------

  Temper said, “I heard that you had a visitor this morning.”

  “News travels fast.”

  “Are you recruiting, then?”

  “On your recommendation.”

  She nodded, “How did you locate him?”

  “Would you believe he came to us?”

  She grinned slightly, “Yes.”

  “Ah, you are a crafty one, Watcher.” He nodded appreciatively.

  She shrugged. “Are you taking him straight away?” This was just like being at court: asking questions that you already knew the answers to, biding your time.

  “Of course not. He’s a rogue. He’ll have to be broken first, and then trained.”

  “I think you’ll find that difficult, given his abilities. Do you have additional reports on him?”

  “Just yours and our limited one.”

  “Scythe knows as much as anyone about him. I’d get a report from him before I did anything.”

  He laughed, “He’s busy.”

  “Nevertheless.” She gave him a solid look. “Do not be alone with him. Do not allow your people to be alone with him. The Kin have no defenses for his abilities. They will be compromised.”

  He shifted in his seat, unnerved by a warning from her. “Perhaps,” he said, eyeing her. “What do you recommend?”

  She shrugged again, “Try it your way first. Then, call me. Who knows? It might be unnecessary.”

  He nodded, and she turned to leave. He said before she reached the door, “We might have two to do.”

  “Mercy?”

  “Yes.”

  “That surprises me.”

  “I’m sure it does, considering your report.”

  “When I evaluated her potential, I found it to be less than expected. While she did have visions, they were unpredictable and
typically of limited value to the Scere.” She had been too busy to update her original report like she had told Scythe she would have to do on the night of the attack on her cousin, so she wasn’t sure why they were going ahead with the recruitment. Either they had another source of information, or they had decided that they would take any member of her family if they got a chance. “When will it be decided?”

  He shrugged.

  She nodded. Fair enough. She had accomplished what she had come for, so she left.

  Chapter 32

  Scythe sat on the floor, completely empty. It was the only way he could make it through the next...however long it took...until someone came through his door with some good news. He was preparing himself for a long wait.

  He had been through the endless period of worry, knowing that what he had struggled to avoid had probably happened despite everything. He had burned through his anger and frustration. He had tried to distract himself with a book for about ten minutes before he gave it up. The words he read wouldn't match up with the ones on the pages. He had worked through every training routine he knew until he collapsed, exhausted on his bed. While he lay there, he wondered how Mercy’s power could possibly work, and why some things seemed inevitable, while others could be changed. Somewhere along the line, he had drifted through a few hours of sleep. After his breakfast, he decided to try to find some peace by sitting down and meditating.

  The door clanged and then opened. Scythe expected Temper or one of the counselors, so he was surprised when an administrator of the Scere L’Eler appeared instead.

  “Scythe,” the man said, looking around the cell with undisguised contempt.

  Scythe’s eyes shifted to him, “Yes?”

  “Typically, agents of my level are addressed as, ‘Sir.’”

  He was already tired of the conversation. “I know.”

  “You’ve fallen, Agent Scythe.”

  Scythe waited.

  “Even if you manage to get out of this intact, you might find it hard to get your prized position with the Hedeler back.” He finally decided that the bed was better than standing and sat on the edge of it.

  Scythe smiled. That had made whatever nonsense Firon was there about worth it. Didn’t the man know his record?

  “Yes, well. I can see that you are not concerned about that, but you will be later, I assure you.”

  Scythe detected something valuable in the man’s tone and asked, “And why is that?”

  “The rights of all powered individuals are coming into question and that includes you.”

  “I see.”

  “A position in the Scere could shield you from conditions that might otherwise be very difficult.”

  He had already suspected something similar, but it was good to have it confirmed. “I thank you for that advice,” he said sincerely.

  Firon nodded his head and then continued, “We have a job for you.”

  “What?” That surprised him.

  “An assignment, a short one.”

  “I’m busy.”

  Unaccountably, Firon laughed at that, causing Scythe to frown suspiciously. Then Firon continued, “That is true, but I think, since you are just waiting here busily doing nothing for another few weeks, you could consider doing this for us.”

  “An Eler assignment?”

  “I know that you rarely accept them, but I hope you will consider it.”

  Why he had come himself? This was far below his position.

  “What is it?”

  “Recruitment.”

  “Not interested...”

  “Of someone powered.”

  “...at all.”

  “We merely need you to test his abilities and determine if he harbors any malicious intent toward the Scere or the Kin.”

  “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  Firon continued, “You have worked for us in this capacity before.”

  “There are other agents who can do this for you. Get Mira.”

  “We don’t want to risk her.”

  That was not subtle.

  “Did you coerce him?”

  “No, he is a willing employee like yourself.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “He came to us.”

  Another idiot, happy to sell himself for money. Humans could be so stupid.

  Scythe sat quietly and, surprisingly, Firon waited. It was his uncharacteristic patience that made Scythe curious despite his better judgment. After a moment, he said, “All right. Test him, check intent; it will take twenty minutes, at the outside.”

  “Fine. We thank you.” He waited for the standard reply.

  Scythe just looked at him.

  Firon stood, “There will be a time when you will wish you had been respectful.”

  Scythe didn’t like the sound of that or the look in the man’s eyes: confident and peevish. Still, it was against his policy to give respect where it wasn’t due. Instead he asked, “How many did your new guy go through, already?”

  “Four. Shall we go?”

  Four? He had gone through four agents?

  “What, now?” he asked with a confused frown when Firon waited expectantly by the door.

  Firon smiled, pleased at Scythe’s uncommon reaction. “Yes.”

  “I assume someone will know where I am?”

  “No one will know.”

  Scythe sighed. He bet even the ones who knew wouldn’t know. Still, this was distracting him from his other problems, so he stood up and followed Firon into an empty corridor. “No restraints?” No guards?

  “Are you going to run?”

  “Maybe. Things are looking bad for me right now.”

  “So I’ve heard.” They followed two corridors to an unattended door that led to a flight of stairs. “I’ve also recently heard news that you have found yourself an okin.”

  Scythe was silent.

  Firon chuckled, “Now all you need is a wife and you’ll fit right in, isn’t that right?”

  Scythe didn’t speak, but they could both hear his response. It beat traitorously beneath his green shirt. What the Eler's head dog didn't know was that it wasn't fear that made his heart jump.

  Firon frowned thoughtfully, “I can’t believe you’ve opened yourself like this. It’s not like you. Must be...something with that...”

  “Don’t.” It wasn't anything close to fear.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Do you want me to do this job for you, or not?” It was a flame.

  He finally caught a glimpse of it in his face, or, more likely, a trace of something dangerous in Scythe's scent and backed down. “Good point. I’ll have to save my thoughts for later.”

  Finally they stopped at a door.

  “You said twenty minutes?”

  “Yes, maybe less.” Scythe sent his power into the room, until it found that of the poor fool who wanted to join the Scere inside. He hit a wall. “Hmm. Maybe more. He is stronger than most.” He kept his power in place. There was a response from inside, a tentative push, which went nowhere, and then the reinforcement of an already impressive shield. That told Scythe a lot about the man inside: he was cautious and he was a survivor.

  “Good. Take what time you need. We want to be sure. One more thing, this man is valuable to the Scere. You will ensure that he remains that way.”

  Scythe nodded. Now that they were at the door, Firon suddenly seemed nervous about something; Scythe wondered what exactly had happened to the other four that would make the man desperate enough to bring the recruit down here and get Scythe out of jail to test him.

  Firon placed his hand on the door, “Promise you will not kill him.”

  Scythe frowned, Kill him? How strong was this guy? He pledged, “I will not kill him.”

  Firon stepped back, and Scythe opened up the door and went in.

  When he saw who sat there comfortably in a chair, he turned around and examined the door. No lock. Damn. Still, there were other ways.

  “So, Scythe. You finally found
me, but it looks like we’re on the same team now. Ironic, isn’t it?” He smiled widely and waved Scythe into a chair across from him.

  Scythe nodded and walked toward him, making sure that he maintained pressure with his power. Despite his arrogant slouch, the man’s heart had started beating very fast and his body was stiff on the chair. To make up for it, he talked louder.

  “The Scere seem real anxious to make me one of their special agents. I might even…”

  Scythe stopped at the table, gripping it with both hands. He pushed at the fire that had already begun to warm his entire body. Wait. Just wait, he told himself firmly. “Do you mind if I borrow this, real quick?”

  “Huh?” As soon as he realized what he was doing, Cord stopped leaning back in his seat.

  “The table. Do you need it?” Scythe kept it burning low with some effort. To help himself, he concentrated on ignoring what his senses were telling him and breathed shallowly. Wait.

  He blinked. “Oh, ah...no.” His eyes went for the second time to the corner behind Scythe and then flicked back.

  Tsk. Tsk. It is not a good idea to be relying on something like that to save your ass, Cord. Not in this situation, Scythe thought to himself.

  “Thanks.” He picked up the table and turned it over, leaning on a leg until it slowly started to bend. “Could you give me a hand?”