“You sentimental buffoon,” Ksenia said. “What are you going to do now? You’ve got yourself all shot up and missed your only chance. What will your family do?”
“I intended to kill her,” Maxim insisted. “I just wanted to use her first. I had a plan.”
“Did you really?” Ksenia sighed. “I think everyone here knows what they are doing but you.”
Maxim stewed and raged.
The pain was so intense that he was afraid to look at the ball of white bandage that concealed his knee.
“It’s pretty bad,” Ksenia said, following his eyes. “You won’t be able to walk for at least a few weeks.”
“Then it’s over,” Maxim said dully. “I’m crippled, and Daniel’s already killed Gabby, so he has a head start on…”
Never let anyone hear you call her that again, if you don’t want even more trouble than you already have coming, Ksenia thought, her expression severe. I really shouldn’t tell you this, given the mess you already made, but…the Thule girl didn’t die.
She got away?
That is what I’ve heard, Ksenia thought. She’s a Thule, after all. They’re a bunch of freaks. God knows what they are capable of.
Maxim lay back and said nothing.
“I really wanted you to win and marry Lady Martynova,” Ksenia said, sighing as she returned to her folding. “I would have been part of the wedding party and everything.”
Maxim covered his face.
“I’m sorry, Ksenia.”
“God. She really did a number on you, didn’t she? You’re still a mess.”
He did not reply.
“You’ve left me with no choice,” she said. “I have to support Simeon now.”
“I know.”
“It can’t be Daniel Gao, and it absolutely cannot be Renton Hall.” Ksenia grimaced. “I have to make sure that Simeon…”
“I know!” Maxim tried not to shout and failed. “I understand!”
Ksenia glared at him, and then went back to folding her clothes.
“It really is a shame,” she said bitterly. “I wanted it to be you.”
Maxim rolled onto his side, facing away from Ksenia. He had enough control that he knew he would not cry, but he was worried about what his face might show of the despair that he felt.
***
The Range Rover was even more enormous on the inside than out, the interior smelling of fresh plastic and treated leather. Lord North drove at a breakneck speed through the foothills, following dirt roads that crossed the private land of old estates, well away from the roadblocks and armed contention of the main road, while Nathan Drava did his best not to cling to the overhead handle.
They turned from a pressed dirt road to a gravel track that bounced Nathan against the new leather of his seat. The pastureland of the North estate gave way gradually to cultivated woods and fir trees in orderly lines. The road rose steeply into the hills, the tree plantations ending on the lower slope, replaced by groves of the heavy, blue-green pine trees common to Central, with their camphor-scented sap and strange circular seed pods. Nathan put his hand on the window to keep his head from bouncing off the glass as the SUV tilted alarmingly, but Lord North pushed onward, not concerned by the rough terrain.
The gravel track dwindled and gave way to a crude path, a narrow ribbon of red dirt that traced a route through the wooded valleys between the foothills, overgrown with shrubs and crisp brown grass. Nathan was impressed with Lord North’s navigation even through the haze of his growing carsickness. He had never even heard of the roads that they followed, despite having spent ample time in the foothills of Central, and he relaxed slightly, knowing that ambush from the Thule Cartel was unlikely, given the obscurity of their route.
“I wonder at your reasons for joining me, Lord Drava,” Henry North said, not taking his eyes from the barely visible route they followed. “I hope you don’t share Sanjiv’s concerns for my safety.”
“Not at all, Lord North. Er, I mean to say, no more than is appropriate,” Nathan sputtered. “Your safety is a paramount concern, sir, obviously, but that was not my sole motivation.”
“I assumed as much. Do please call me Henry in private. You are a Lord now, after all, Nathan, and we are peers.”
“Yes, I…of course, sir.”
“You were saying?”
They crossed a particularly rough patch of ground, gravel and dirt spitting from beneath their tires, and Nathan clung to the rocking cabin and was deeply grateful for his seatbelt.
“I joined you because I believe this conflict is rapidly reaching a conclusion,” Nathan said, his hands on the dashboard. “I do not want it to end without contributing meaningfully to its resolution.”
“You worry for your reputation,” Henry said, threading his way through tree trunks at alarming speed. “I do not think it necessary. I have heard no rumors or suspicions regarding the tragic end of your parents, only sympathy.”
“Nor have I, nor would I care. I wish to advance my career, and this conflict presents an opportunity to do so. What better place to be, than beside the leader of the free Hegemony, when he takes the field?”
Lord North glanced at Nathan, taking his eyes from the scant road for a fraction of a second. He burst out laughing, taking one hand off the wheel to pound Nathan’s shoulder approvingly.
“Well said, young Lord,” Henry said, grinning broadly. “You make me sound like some sort of knight-errant.”
“The heirs of the Great Families are in the field, fighting cartel against cartel,” Nathan said, shrugging. “Perhaps for the last time. If that is not the stuff of an Arthurian romance, then I do not know what is.”
“I see your point. You are an ambitious young man, aren’t you?”
Nathan saw no need to make a reply.
“Ambition is a fine quality, in appropriate measure,” Lord North said. “Do try and remember that.”
“Of course,” Nathan said smoothly. “You can trust me completely, Lord North.”
“Henry, please.”
Nathan nodded.
“What do you think we will encounter, sir?”
“I don’t think they know about this road,” Lord North said unnecessarily. “I would imagine we can get very close, maybe within a mile or so of the old Muir estate, before we have to worry about bumping into anyone."
Nathan would have nodded, but he was too busy being bounced about the cabin of the Range Rover.
“I understand that you are quite the hunter,” Lord North said, thoughtful enough not to mention that Nathan’s recently deceased father would have doubtless been the source of that information.
“I’m not in your league, sir,” Nathan said, recalling the mounts and photos that were confined to Lord North’s office and reception hall, his wife and daughter being firmly against the entire practice. “Our cartel has holdings in Montana and Minnesota, and we – I – have made the last several deer seasons at both.”
“I believe I remember a lovely piece of land outside of Bozeman, with dramatic views of the mountains,” Lord North said, taking a bend around a thick copse of pine without seeming to apply the brake at all. “I visited it briefly one fall, many years ago.”
“That’s the place, sir,” Nathan said. “I took a ten-point buck last season. That’s the extent of my experience, though. I’ve been duck hunting a few times, and I assisted my father during elk season, but nothing like what you’ve done, sir.”
“Money and age are the important qualities in big-game hunting. You can’t take a lion if you can’t get to Africa first,” Lord North said, taking his eyes from the road for an alarmingly long time to size Nathan up. “Say, Lord Drava, what would you think of joining me for a bit of a safari, after this whole ordeal is over? The cartel owns several farms in Botswana, you see, and there’s a good variety of game to be had.”
“I would be honored, sir,” Nathan said, concealing his elation.
“This is the boundary to the Muir estate,” Lord North said, slowing
for the first time in their trip as they passed over a trickle of a creek on a low concrete bridge. “The main house is not far from here, as I recall.”
The woods had been cut back on the other side of the creek until they were little more than occasional green crowns atop the sloping foothills to create grazing land, but they passed no more than a handful of cattle as they went, the pasture lands dry and wildly overgrown.
“Do you see that, sir?” Nathan said, pointing ahead of them. “Smoke.”
“This estate has suffered from neglect in recent years,” Lord North remarked. “A wildfire breaking out in the untended brush is not out of the question.”
Nathan felt doubtful, but kept his mouth shut. Lord North laughed unexpectedly.
“I doubt it as well, Lord Drava,” he said, downshifting. “I find it much more likely to be related to our own errand here.”
Nathan nodded, not feeling certain of himself enough to ask any more questions.
Most of what had come since he killed his father and assumed his title had felt like a very pleasant, somewhat unlikely dream, and the offer of a safari with Lord North only accentuated that. The process of assuming the Lordship was as intoxicating as it was taxing, and Nathan felt particularly keyed up, though he had not slept well in days.
They crept through the rolling hills, Lord North suddenly employing all the care and caution that he had eschewed earlier. The grasslands had been colonized by various bushes and shrubs during the spring rains, slim young oaks and willows occupying former pastures alongside blackberries, holly, and poison oak. Fences were tilted or collapsed, and the barn they passed was beginning to list as rotted wood gave way.
He had heard about what happened to the Muir family, obviously, but the story fascinated Nathan, not least because he had nursed a crush on Therese Muir since their overlapping tenure at the Academy. It was a setup right out of a gothic romance, Nathan thought, two beautiful sisters born into a declining family, an embittering blend of prior prestige and current destitution.
Nathan had more sympathy for the sisters’ shared decision than his peers, finding their plight relatable to his own. His father, a genteel third-generation aristocrat of impeccable manners and very little practical skill, had diminished the cartel fortunes from prosperity to desperation while Nathan was a child, and only Nathan’s recent intervention had prevented him from losing all that they had left by joining the Thule Cartel’s insane bid for power.
Nathan did not approve of the Muir sisters joining the Anathema, but he felt as if he could sympathize with their motivations.
They crossed another tiny stream, water-smoothed stones sliding beneath the tires, the track improving marginally as they neared the estate house. The brush came right up to the edge of the road, branches and resinous leaves brushing against the exterior of the Range Rover.
The foothills ahead of them bled dark-grey smoke into the softer grey of the sky. The hills were less gentle than those they had passed earlier, outcroppings of mottled stone protruding randomly from the slopes like cancerous growths, carved by the winds into strange twisting shapes. The trail of dust behind them took a long while to settle, a blanket of dull brown hanging above the road for several minutes after they passed.
Nathan’s early sense of security dwindled. If any Thule personnel remained, all it would take to anticipate their approach was to look in their direction.
The sun disappeared behind the hills as the road descended, and Nathan was grateful for his jacket’s tweed lining.
Lord North slammed on the brakes. Nathan was choked by his seatbelt.
Nathan looked at Lord North in alarm. He gripped the steering wheel, looking at the empty road ahead of them with an expression that Nathan could not read.
“Lord Drava, if you would,” Henry North said, rubbing his eyes. “Did you happen to just see three people in the road?”
“No, sir,” Nathan said, glancing around at their surroundings. “I saw no one.”
Lord North’s right hand drifted from the steering wheel to the metal oblong attached to his belt, which looked very much like an umbrella handle.
“We have been noticed,” Henry North said, rolling forward a short distance before coming to a dusty stop in the middle of the road, a parched and overgrown meadow on one side, and the foothills on the other. “I think you may have an opportunity to prove yourself sooner than expected, Lord Drava.”
Henry exited the Rover, and Nathan hurried to do the same, snatching his rifle from the backseat and readying it as he went.
“You may as well come out,” Lord North said, taking the silver oblong from his belt. “Your illusions are impressive as always, Mateo, but you’ll need to do better than that if you want to get rid of me.”
“I don’t want to get rid of you at all, Lord North,” Mateo said, suddenly standing in front of them in a slim-cut white suit that was utterly untouched by the dust of the road, or the dead grass that lined it. “I simply want to delay you a short time.”
“Why is that, Mateo?” Lord North pushed a stub on the metal device, and coils of flame spilled out, collecting in a bright and sinuous coil beside him. “What is it that you don’t want me involved in?”
“Nothing of great concern or significance,” Mateo assured him. “It would be better, sir, if you were to take my word on it.”
“In better times, I just might,” Henry said. “We are at war, however.”
“I am certain that Thule leadership would be eager to sign a truce,” Mateo said. “Given the opportunity to do so.”
“A truce? You attacked the North Cartel. This conflict is entirely the fault of the Thule Cartel.”
“Be that as it may, I believe that Lord Thule is content with his current position and would be most interested in preventing any further bloodshed,” Mateo said. “All that is required of you is to remain a short time under my supervision, until certain affairs are safely concluded.”
“I will not,” Henry said. “Do you intend to force this issue, Mateo?”
“I do, sir, regretfully.”
“I am reluctant to kill my wife’s cousin, so I will give you an opportunity to reconsider,” Lord North said, coils of brilliant energy spilling from the metal handle with a flick of his wrist, the brown weeds by the side of the road bursting into flame on contact. “Are you certain you wish to pursue this course?”
“I do only what I am required to do, Lord North,” Mateo said, disappearing. “Please do not think poorly of me.”
Lord North regarded the empty road in front of him calmly.
“I need a position, Lord Drava,” he called out. “Can you give me a target?”
Nathan bent behind his scope, activating his remote viewing protocol.
The world transformed before his eyes. The grass became green and long and lush, and the scrubland became verdant jungle, strange iridescent insects swarming around waxen red flowers and the purple heart-shaped blossoms of the thick vines that hung from the trees. Bats flicked across his field of view, flying their erratic paths, and a sudden wind stirred each leaf and branch into motion.
Lord North played his whip about in front of him, and fires started wherever it touched.
Nathan panned across a primordial chaos of swirling vegetation and wildfire.
Animals moved in the dense brush, and the shadows shifted crazily, as if the afternoon were flying by in the space of seconds.
Nathan adjusted his scope with shaking fingers, focusing on an area not far down the road from where they had stopped.
The ground deformed between him and his area of interest, a range of hills lifting out of the ranchland to obscure his view with thousands of tons of stone and earth. Stars flared in the sky, bright enough to outshine the sun, and then they fell, filling the horizon with streaks and colored jets of flame. Flocks of brilliant colored birds were startled from the bushes and trees, darting across his field of view and making nuisances of themselves.
He made another adjustment, a single
click, and then Nathan settled back behind his scope again.
Brilliant red and orange flame rippled through the broad leaves and dry ferns. Flocks of birds swirled, and animals scurried in the undergrowth. The wind set everything dancing.
“One o’clock, Lord North,” Nathan said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Fifty meters.”
Lord North played the whip across the brush, the flame sailing out like a fisherman’s cast line. The illusionary jungle was replaced by burning grassland where it touched.
Nathan hunted for his target through the flames, panning the scope slowly.
“Two o’clock,” Nathan called out. “Sixty-five meters.”
Lord North cast again, and the whip scoured the woods.
Nathan panned and adjusted his scope, searching for several minutes.
“I’m sorry, Lord North,” he said, looking up from the rifle. “I lost him, sir.”
“Not to worry, Nathan,” Henry said. “Mateo Navarre is a master of his art. I did not like our chances against him from the beginning. Mateo was meant to delay us, and he has done so. Shall we move on?”
He clapped Nathan on the shoulder as he slung his rifle.
They returned to the Rover side by side, to discover all four tires slashed and flat.
“I suppose that’s it for any plan of visiting the Muir estate. Might as well head back. My doctor has been on me a great deal lately to increase my daily exercise,” Lord North said, lighting his cigar. “Care for a bit of a walk in the country, Lord Drava?”
Nineteen
Day Four
Eerie left to meet with Ms. Aoki while Alex was in the shower, in response to a text she had received while they were at breakfast. He was searching his dorm floor for clean clothes when he felt a slight disturbance in the atmosphere of the room, the hint of a breeze as air was displaced by a new arrival. Alex dropped the glass of water he was holding and spun around, the Absolute Protocol immediately at the front of his mind.
“Wait!” John Parson put his hands up and smiled. “There’s no need…”
The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 47