The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun)

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The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun) Page 31

by Shami Stovall


  “How dare you,” Battery said, his voice rising an octave. He glared at Vergess. “My father will hear all about how you tried to trick me and my fair cousin.” Then he turned to the soldier. “Do you know who my father is? Karl Richter—the right hand of the sorcerer-general. I can’t wait to see the look his face when I tell him about the dishonorable soldier who tried to—”

  “Wait, please,” the Abomination Soldier said with a forced smile. He stepped aside and motioned to the hall. “There’s been a misunderstanding. It was all a jest, my lady. I assure you.”

  Battery offered a haughty huff before storming off down the hall, his head held high.

  Vergess and Geist followed close behind, Geist still on the verge of laughing aloud. Battery had all the pomp and sass of debutante, though she would never tell him so.

  When they reached the main hall, Battery turned for the front door. “Where are we going?”

  “Back to the others,” Geist said. “I need to speak with Victory and Dreamer before we move forward.”

  “They’re going to steal magics from Ethereal Squadron sorcerers?” Victory asked.

  Geist nodded.

  The cramped carriage wasn’t her ideal base of locations, but since they had nothing else, it had to do. Blick, Victory, and Dreamer sat on one side while Geist, Vergess, and Battery sat on the other. Their heavy breathing added to the temperature, and Geist hated the amount of sweat coating her body.

  “How are they going to do it?” Blick asked.

  “I don’t know,” Geist replied.

  “What about Paris?” Dreamer asked. “Did they discuss the New Schieffen Plan?”

  “No. They were too busy congratulating themselves on new technology. And appointing that new general.” Geist moved to the edge of her seat, her mind raking over all the information she had. “Victory, can you use your magic to see this man? He’s distraught. And the other German high command officers weren’t pleased with his defiance. They were calling for a handler to control him.”

  “I’ve been using my sorcery since we’ve been here,” Victory said. “In a few of my visions, I see a defector who helps us get the information we need.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I don’t get their names from my sorcery, only faces.”

  “Was he wearing spectacles?” Geist asked. “And a civilian suit?”

  Victory also moved to the edge of his seat, his eyes wide. “Yes. He was.”

  “That’s him! I saw him inside the OHL. If we go back inside, perhaps this evening, perhaps I could approach him.”

  “Why would he defect?” Vergess asked. He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “When I… was thinking about leaving Germany…”

  Blick snorted. “Finally admitting it.”

  Geist shot him a glare.

  “Listen,” Vergess hissed. “Months before I defected, I thought everyone was spying on me. I assumed every person I spoke to was an Abomination Soldier sent to weasel out my plans. I was more guarded than I ever have been. If this new magic-technology general is looking to defect, he may be cagey. He won’t believe a member of the Ethereal Squadron is here to whisk him away to safety. I wouldn’t have believed it.”

  “But Victory said he helps us,” Battery interjected. “So it must be true.”

  Victory shook his head. “Only in some of my visions. That means there’s a chance he doesn’t. And I’ve seen plenty where we all die as well—much more of those, actually.”

  Dreamer took out his book and penciled down a few notes. Blick slammed his back against the seat of the carriage, his gaze on the ceiling, his jaw clenched tight.

  “If there’s a chance of succeeding, I have to go,” Geist said. “I’ll approach Heinrich when he’s away from the others and offer him safe transport from Belgium. In exchange, he can provide us with whatever information he’s got on the New Schieffen Plan. He was a lead researcher, after all. He’ll know what we need to know.”

  “But we still don’t know how they intend to attack Paris with the GH gas,” Battery said. “Or how they’re going to steal our sorceries.”

  “You and Vergess will go back inside with me. You two will search for that information while I deal with Heinrich. Got it?”

  “What about us?” Blick asked.

  “You three get us a car,” Geist said as she snapped her fingers. “Steal a set of keys from the drivers. Something fast—in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

  Victory, Dreamer, and Blick nodded.

  Geist lifted the curtain over the window and peeked out. “We’ll wait a few hours, then we’ll make our move. If we coordinate, perhaps we can leave under cover of darkness.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  REVELATION

  EVEN MORE SORCERERS AND MUNDANE citizens filled the OHL for the evening talks. Geist snuck in with Vergess and Battery through the servant’s entrance but quickly detached and mingled with the attendants in an effort to find Heinrich.

  Although she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man earlier that morning, the young general was one of the only sorcerers in attendance wearing spectacles. Geist went from guest to guest, avoiding the golden-eyed guards, glancing at the faces of each man. But she couldn’t find him. Room after room, person after person—nothing.

  With each wasted minute, Geist’s heartrate increased until the beating became white noise that deafened her to the music and chatter around her.

  Where is he? If I can’t find him, what’re we going to do?

  No. I mustn’t think like that. It can’t even be an option.

  Geist took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and meditated. To her surprise, the scents of the room intensified. The stew and grilled vegetables two rooms over filled her nostrils. When she focused, she could detect the scents and perfumes of each individual in the room, mentally separating each distinct odor from the next.

  Apex sorcery, she realized happily. I’m improving.

  She opened her eyes and hustled toward the west wing, the section of the OHL only for sorcerers. Once in the main hall, Geist made her way around the room, all the way to the back table where she’d first seen Heinrich and Leopold. The table sat empty; even the sorcerer-general was nowhere to be seen.

  Geist walked up to Heinrich’s seat, closed her eyes, and inhaled. So many scents—it almost overwhelmed her, but she focused and separated out five individuals in her mind. Although she had no way to know which was Heinrich’s, Geist half-smiled when she recognized the cologne of her father.

  He always wore the same damn one.

  She snapped her eyes open and followed the trail. He was ordered to watch Heinrich, wasn’t he? Her father would lead her straight to him.

  Geist hurried to her destination, keeping her father’s scent fresh in her mind. It took her to the other side of the OHL, the East Wing, and she had to slow when she realized sorcerers were living in the rooms, much like an inn. Most of them were men, all thin and gaunt and without military uniforms.

  Researchers. But why are they here?

  Geist slipped by open doors, still invisible, until she reached a short hallway and came to an abrupt halt.

  Her father paced at the opposite end, his hands behind his back, his face set in a glower. Geist held her breath and took a step back. Then she waited, watching him wear a line in the carpet with his heavy footsteps. He grumbled and cursed, and while Geist weighed her options, considering creating a distraction, he turned on his heel and walked straight in her direction.

  Geist ducked behind a vase, the breath in her lungs burning.

  Without giving her vase a second glance, her father marched down the hallway, passing her in a matter of moments.

  She still waited a minute before moving. Better safe than sorry.

  Then she scampered down the hall and came to the sole door.

  Heinrich has to be here.

  She ghosted through the oak of the door until she emerged inside an ornate bedroom. A huge bed, adorned with a scarlet canopy, sat
in the corner, while a large dresser and armoire stood opposite.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” a man asked in German.

  Geist whipped around, her focus almost broken, but she maintained her invisibility.

  Heinrich stood by the bathroom door, his long-sleeves rolls up to his elbows, his suit vest unbuttoned. He held himself with a rigid posture and offered Geist a sneer as he said, “You know I can sense your magic.”

  Seconds ticked by in silence as Geist raked her mind for an answer. She hadn’t planned on him being the one to confront her.

  When she offered no reply, Heinrich walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. “You weren’t satisfied guarding me like a dog in the hall? Our commander’s trust doesn’t run deep, I see.”

  Then it hit her.

  He thinks I’m my father.

  “You don’t have to stay here,” Heinrich said, his voice growing louder with each word. “I’m not going anywhere—where would I go?”

  This charade won’t last long. Geist took a step back and patted at her belt. She hadn’t taken a weapon—there weren’t many to take, but she cursed herself regardless. Even a sap or blackjack would have been better than nothing. What if she needed to subdue Heinrich when he realized who she was?

  Heinrich turned around, his eyebrows knit together. “Are you pulling a gun on me?”

  Geist froze. How did he know? Was it the sound of her clothing? Or, God forbid, could his sorcery detect her thoughts?

  “I can’t believe it,” Heinrich whispered. He turned away again and grabbed at the contents of the drawer. A pristine Luger sat between two piles of sheets, and he lifted it up with an unsteady hand. “I… always suspected this would happen… but I didn’t think it would come to this so soon. And here, of all places. Or is that why you came into my room? Were you hoping for a quick and quiet kill away from the guests?”

  He won’t be any use to me if he’s dead… and we fight, we’ll draw every single Abomination Soldier in the compound! Geist gritted her teeth.

  “Wait,” she said in German.

  Heinrich glanced in her direction, his wide eyes betraying his shock.

  “I’m not Markus Cavell.” She allowed her invisibility to drop. “I’m a member of the Ethereal Squadron.” Then she held up her hands, hoping her smaller stature worked in her favor.

  He said nothing as he took a step toward the bathroom door.

  Fuck. I can’t mess this up. I need to convince, no matter what.

  “I’ve come to help,” she blurted out. Then she forced herself to lower her voice, “I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

  “Is that right?” Heinrich asked, taking another step.

  “It is. I saw when you rejected the office of magic-technology general.”

  He stopped and lifted an eyebrow. “What of it?”

  “Is this…” She took in a deep breath. “Is this all really what you want? Having your work stolen from you—used to take innocent lives?” She lowered her hands and then motioned to the Luger. “You thought they sent someone to kill you. Is that the way you want to spend the rest of the war? Looking over your shoulder, wondering when you’ll outlive your usefulness?”

  Heinrich caught his breath after the last sentence. He lowered his weapon, his hand still shaking. “You said you’ve come to help me?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “Me and my team.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  Geist hesitated. She couldn’t risk telling him specifics like that, not yet. Victory said he would defect, but what if she failed to get him out of the OHL? If Heinrich was recaptured, her father would make him talk, and she and her team could be captured as well.

  “I have enough people to get you out of Belgium,” she said. “We’ll take you to our headquarters in Paris. From there you can—”

  “Paris? It’ll be a warzone.”

  “Are you talking about the New Schieffen Plan?”

  Heinrich placed his Luger back in the dresser. Then he opened a second drawer and tore through the contents, his breathing becoming faster and shallower. “So the Ethereal Squadron knows about that, do they? You have talented spies. But listen—information about the timing of the attack has been misleading. Germany intends to launch the attack at the end of the OHL meeting.”

  “What?” Geist balked.

  “That’s right. Six days from now and all of Paris will be smothering in gas.”

  Geist ran a hand through her curly hair, fighting for breath. Major Reese needs to know. They all need to know. “We need to leave,” she said. “Right now.”

  Heinrich glanced over his shoulder. “Your team has an extraction plan ready?”

  “Yes.” Not really, but we’ll have to improvise. “If we waste much time, we risk the enemy discovering us. It’s now or never.”

  “And I assume you’ll want my research in exchange for safety.”

  “I’m glad you understand wartime tactics,” Geist quipped. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’ll be hoping for.”

  Heinrich stopped searching and straightened his glasses. “I won’t give the Ethereal Squadron my research. Not now. Not ever.”

  “Now isn’t the time for negotiations.”

  “I can’t allow another military to use my weapons.”

  “It’s in the hands of our enemy. And you’ve seen what they do. How are we to fight them if we don’t have the tools?”

  “More destruction will come of this,” Heinrich snapped. “If I surrender my research—if everyone knows—then they’ll all use it, don’t you understand?” He pushed his long sleeves down with a quick and forceful motion. “And the blame will fall to me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It won’t stop at protection. Once the instruments of war I’ve created are… loose in the world, there’s no stopping other world powers from using them. Nothing but destruction and death will come of this. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that it’s my doing?” He walked up to her, a few inches away, and shook his head. “Well? How can I?”

  Geist pressed her knuckles against his arm and shoved him back a step. “This isn’t about you,” she said, her voice low. “Look at the big picture. The enemy already has these weapons. We can’t change that. And they’re using those weapons. We can’t change that either. But if we use your research against them, we can force them to stop. Or we let them continue—and fear of your creations control the world. Those are our options. What’s it going to be?”

  Despite the bite in her words, Heinrich didn’t flinch or back away. Instead, he stared down at her, his dull green eyes shifting back and forth. He exhaled twice, his stern expression melting into something melancholy.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said. “But I still reserve the right to discuss this with the commander of the Ethereal Squadron.”

  “Agreed.” Geist motioned to the door. “We need to leave.” She shimmered and shifted until invisible. “I’ll follow behind you.”

  “I need my notebook,” Heinrich said. “It’s not here. I probably left it in the basement, with the research and… the specimens.”

  The specimens. The way he uttered the words… the chill in his voice was like the chill of magic.

  Heinrich grabbed the door handle. “I should also grab a few other things. Meet me at the eastern end of the basement, in the room with windows to the outside. We can leave there.”

  “How long do you need?”

  “Less than twenty minutes.”

  “Make it ten.”

  “Very well,” Heinrich said. He buttoned up his vest before opening the door. After a quick glance down the hallway, he strode forward, his head held high. Geist shadowed his movements. Heinrich had long legs and walked so fast that she almost had to jog to keep up.

  Once they reached the main hall, Geist broke away from Heinrich and headed back to meet with Battery and Vergess. She watched Heinrich go for some distance, and even held her breath when Heinrich wi
shed a couple Abomination Soldiers good evening before he disappeared around a corner.

  I hope Victory is right about him.

  Geist reached the servant’s hall and found it empty. Her nerves singing, she leapt to each door, glancing inside, searching with all the frenzy of a hive of bees. It didn’t take long for her to stumble upon a parlor with Vergess and Battery conversing with two Abomination Soldiers. Geist caught her breath the moment she entered the room, her gaze darting between her allies and the enemy.

  “Nothing compares to the Berlin Palace,” Vergess said as he swirled a glass of wine. Battery and the Abomination Soldiers nodded along. “The incorporation of Baroque architecture is simply stunning.”

  Battery lifted a delicate feminine eyebrow. “I’m surprised you even know what Baroque means, sweetie.”

  “Why is that, darling?” Vergess asked.

  “Oh, you know. You struck me as a simpler sort of man, is all.”

  “You don’t say.”

  The Abomination Soldiers chuckled and exchanged glances.

  Geist crept behind Vergess and leaned in close to his back. “I’m here,” she whispered—so quiet she almost couldn’t hear herself, but Vergess turned his head for a moment before refocusing on the conversation.

  “I prefer gothic architecture, myself,” Battery continued. “It has more personality.”

  “The Germans are planning to launch their attack on Paris within six days,” Geist continued in a whisper. “Heinrich has agreed to go with us. He’s gathering information in the basement. We’re to meet him and leave.”

  Vergess took a sip of his wine. Then he said, “Well, gentlemen, it’s been pleasant.”

  But before he could finish his speech, the illusions on him and Battery dropped, revealing the shawls and Belgian clothing underneath.

  For a moment, no one said anything.

  Fuck, Geist thought as she took a step back. Dreamer and the others—something’s happened to them!

  “Vergess,” she snapped. “Kill them. We need to go.”

  Vergess nodded and threw a punch at the closest Abomination Soldier. But the blow never connected. The man shifted his weight slightly, then vanished, reappearing instantaneously in another part of the parlor as the chill of magic filled the room. Without hesitation, Vergess leapt for the second enemy soldier, his hand open, and he grabbed the man’s uniform. His ruina sorcery ate through his clothes and left a permanent rot that crawled through the fabric of the khaki uniform.

 

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