Dark Sight

by T. G. Ayer

  It was evidence that Allegra’s abductors were absolutely ruthless. They had been better armed than his men, and how on earth had they neutralized Xales?

  As they turned into the driveway of Allegra’s house, Max felt his fear and anger rise. He jumped from the car even before it rumbled to a halt near the front door.

  Xenia was already at the opened doorway, glaring at him with reddened, accusing eyes. She was holding onto her dog’s leash so tight the animal had to lift his head to avoid being strangled.

  “Can you get her back?” she snapped angrily as her eyes glistened again.

  “I’m going to do everything I can, Xenia.”

  His voice was low as he tried to ensure his own raw emotions didn’t leak into his tone. He must have failed because Xenia gave him an odd look, then a short nod.

  She turned on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen where—shockingly—she set about preparing tea and coffee, and piling plates with muffins and pastries.

  From this pampered princess, it was no less surprising than if she’d prepared an entire meal.

  Max wasn’t about to complain.

  Four of the surviving guards were gathered in the living room, the bright sun streaming onto them making a mockery of their emotions.

  One of the men, Allen, looked up, his expression dark. He didn’t wait for Max to ask for an update.

  Allen took a deep breath and looked straight at Max. “Carlos is in the hospital with a concussion. He’d been watching from his car across the road. Bashed over the head with something hard. Kassim is still in a coma. Stabbed close to the heart with what looked like an icepick. Doctors are not confident that he’ll wake up. Ignacio was also stabbed, but in the neck. Nobody saw who did it. He died instantly. Rachel was watching the back door. We found her with a bullet in the middle of her forehead. We thought you’d want to deal with notifying the families.”

  Max was glad the man hadn’t drawn out the update. Quick, short, but no less painful.

  Flavius and Corina had remained standing, watching from the kitchen, their expressions contained. Unlike the rest of the team, the two were Max’s personal staff, and remained on the sidelines, observing.

  Flavius cleared his throat. “If I may, could I be directed to some of the oracle’s personal items? It would help a great deal in my attempt to locate her.” The locator had a tendency toward the formal, but Max and the team were quite used to it.

  Xenia had been paying close attention and hurried over to deliver her tray of cups, beverages and cakes. She hovered, waiting to hear what was happening.

  The team frowned collectively at Flavius’s request and Max had to hide his smile at their protectiveness of the Pythia. He glanced at Xenia. “Show Flavius to Allegra’s bedroom, please? A toothbrush or comb would do nicely, thank you.” He spoke gently, and it must have been different from his normal manner, because both Corina and Flavius stared at his face.

  Xenia nodded and led the locator away while Max talked to the agents, going over in detail what each of the survivors had seen. They’d been taken by surprise in the ambush, and none of them were particularly proud of that.

  And they had been seriously outgunned. In retrospect, it had been a mistake to allow Allegra to enter a crowded place like that bakery. And each of the survivors from his team were regretting it a great deal.

  Xenia returned with Flavius, who had chosen a bronze-handled hairbrush. The guards watched as Flavius took his prize to the stone dining room table and carefully laid it down.

  Flavius was a quiet man who went about his task with an unassuming air. And yet the man had been the deciding factor in many a difficult case, putting Max and the team on the right path, sometimes with just one scrying attempt.

  He leaned closer, picking out a single hair from the tangle within the bristles. Pulling one of the heavy chairs up, he sat and rested his elbows on the table before closing his eyes.

  The man needed little more than touch to help him sense a person’s location. Though unable to give exact coordinates, his predictions were always vastly useful.

  Such a talent was rare, and FAPA was always eager to recruit people like him.

  Another huff of air passed through Flavius’s wide nostrils, and he opened his eyes to look at Max. “I’m not getting much other than she is moving eastward.”

  A murmur of dissatisfaction rose within the team and Max quickly shushed them. Flavius either didn't hear them, or ignored them. He sighed. “Moving east and doing so fast.”

  “How fast?” asked Max.

  “A train. Possibly, or more likely a plane.”

  Max nodded. Means of transport was always a great help in understanding the methods of one’s foe.

  Paper crinkled as Corina withdrew a large map scroll from her case and began to roll it open on the table beside Flavius.

  Corina would get visions of the person they tracked, but she was rarely able to provide a location. Her expertise was seeing and experiencing her target’s current environment.

  Flavius got to his feet, vacating his seat for the seer. The two worked together, moving in harmony like the partners they were. Their self-assured movements provided a sense of calm for the exhausted agents and they relaxed a little as they watched the pair.

  Corina took another strand in her fingers and then laid it in her palm before sitting back. Her eyes glazed over as the vision filled her mind, as she accessed Allegra.

  “She is too strong. I cannot obtain access to her thoughts. Only her surroundings.”

  It would be sufficient but Max didn’t speak. Once Corina entered the trance, she couldn’t hear anything around her. In Max’s experience, each seer functioned differently, within different parameters and personal skill barriers.

  Corina had this permanent inability to hear people while she remained within the trance.

  The seers adjusted to their handicaps. Corina usually made a list of things she was looking for, and memorized them before she entered the trance.

  “She’s sequestered in a separate area so she can’t hear what her captors are saying.” Corina tilted her head listening. “It sounds like an airline announcement . . . no . . . the captain, announcing a flight time. He’s saying six hours to landing – something about refueling. He has an Anglian accent.”

  Max stiffened.

  Londoninium.

  Chapter 30

  “If it’s a private plane, as we must assume, could it be that they are taking her to Londinium?” Max wondered. “It's a large enough city, and significant financial center. Whoever arranged her capture is rich and influential. It might fit.”

  “The direction is right,” Flavius said, “though from what I sense, she’s not over the Atlantis Sea as yet. We might just catch her with the jet, if only we knew where they’ll come down to refuel. There are several possible airfields on the East Coast.”

  Corina came out of her trance. “Sorry, that’s all I could get. The Pythia is drugged, only dimly aware of what goes on around her.”

  Max made a quick calculation – without a more exact location, they would not catch the abductors before they left the States’ airspace. Better to go straight to Londinium, if Flavius confirmed that destination when they got to Nova Roma.

  “The Anglian Isles are a fairly large territory though. It’s not going to be easy to find her.” Allen shook his head as he began to pace.

  “We can get transport there easy enough. Between Flavius and Corina we will find her.” Max doubted he’d be able to commission the jet he’d arrived on. Not for a trans-Atlantis flight for their whole team.

  Max called Aulus who assured him their flight would be arranged and ready as soon as they got to the airport.

  Max felt the fatigue in his bones, in his mind. He was weary, but of what exactly?

  Allegra’s disappearance had put many aspects of his life into perspective. Max could now admit to himself that he’d grown weary of his job. Whether it was answering to Aulus or the role itself, and he susp
ected it was mostly the former. Max longed for work with more autonomy, something that gave him true satisfaction.

  And yet this attachment to the Pythia was something he’d never give up. And without his job, even with all its drawbacks, he would never have met her.

  The new Pythia was intriguing, attractive, intelligent. He could not possibly request a transfer if it meant never seeing her again.

  Before Max headed for the airport, Xenia handed him a small leather bag, insisting he take it for Allegra. Max had been impressed at Xenia’s strength and her thoughtfulness.

  They left the guards at Allegra’s house on the off-chance that she’d return. It was an excuse to get them to rest, and to check on Carlos, and to be there in case Kassim failed to awaken from the coma.

  A second supersonic flight was not what Max had wanted and Corina had only made it worse by reminding him that the flight across the Atlantis Sea was technically supersonic too. At least the bigger Icarus 700 planes should be a little easier on the stomach.

  They arrived on the tarmac at Nova Roma Airport and headed inside to check in. The waiting lounge was buzzing as people huddled in groups, free drinks and snacks forgotten as they whispered to each other.

  “What’s going on?” asked Corina, keeping her voice down.

  Max nudged her and tipped his head toward two men in business suits poring over the afternoon edition of the local paper. Everyone was discussing how their government had failed to properly protect the new Pythia, and wondering where she could be, and who would dare abduct her. Would there be a ransom demand?

  Max and his team grabbed something to eat and remained on the sidelines listening in where they were able, after getting hold of their own copies of the available national and international papers.

  Apparently, the world was deeply critical of the New Germanic States’ inability to keep Allegra safe. There were many suggesting that Allegra be moved away from the clear dangers within the borders of the States, calling for international funding and manning of her protection detail, because clearly the States had fallen down on the job.

  More importantly, many international governments and corporations were up in arms because they had not known about her existence until now.

  A few were accusing the States, justified accusations in Max’s opinion, of attempting to keep Allegra all to themselves to gain an unfair advantage. They were calling for an international summit to discuss the situation and establish firm rules of access.

  Max scanned all the articles regarding the Pythia with growing dismay.

  “Did you know about this?” asked Corina, her voice holding the distinct edge of accusation.

  “Know what?” asked Max, struggling to focus on the blurring words. He was too tired to function anymore.

  She and Flavius had taken seats with Max at a small seating arrangement of four single sofas and a glass coffee table. They were beside the floor-to-ceiling window that faced the tarmac and the planes as they took off. They could see their plane, the gigantic jet, waiting for them outside.

  Corina shifted to face him, stabbing a copy of the Nova Roma Herald with her forefinger. “Did you know about this?” she repeated, her tone angry.

  “What in particular?”

  “That there is an International Treaty governing access to the Pythia.”

  When Aulus had mentioned keeping Allegra’s abilities for FAPA alone, Max hadn’t agreed. Now that the world had begun to talk about it, the General’s plan was definitely not going to go forward.

  Max was supremely grateful to the gods that he hadn’t attempted to seduce Allegra on behalf of Aulus. He nodded gravely. “Yes, I knew. I’ve been working with Aurelia for most of my career. For the interim, I assumed we were ignoring the Treaty because we were thinking of Allegra’s safety first. The fact that she’d been attacked more than once already, meant someone was out to either kill her, or abduct her. We thought it best to wait until she was safe and secure, before announcing her identity and availability to the world.”

  Corina leaned closer. “I can understand that, but Allegra’s life is in serious danger right now.”

  Flavius shook his head. “Surely nobody would want to kill or hurt such an invaluable source of information? Especially now, with the looming extinction event?”

  Max knew what Flavius was feeling, that disbelief that someone would target Allegra who was likely their only key to saving human existence.

  “The attempts on her life so far say otherwise.” Max spoke quietly. “And perhaps her captors are ignorant of the impending epidemic.”

  “Which makes it all the more imperative for us to find her and bring her to safety.”

  “There is a possibility that they aren’t going to hurt her,” suggested Flavius.

  Corina snorted, drawing both men’s attention. “If that’s the case, then why did they go so far as to kill our agents? Seems to me that a tranquilizer dart to get her guards out of the way would have been enough.”

  Max nodded. “The excess violence they used may merely indicate how important she is to them.” Even though Max spoke the words, he didn’t believe it for an instant.

  Corina was right. The circumstances of Allegra’s abduction didn’t bode well for her life expectancy.

  Chapter 31

  Blackness blanketed Allegra as she slowly became aware of her surroundings.

  A soft mattress beneath her body, cool air against her cheek, light shining against the lids of her closed eyes.

  At some point her captors had injected her with a sedative, and the spot in her neck throbbed like a warning to behave in case they decided it was necessary to calm her again.

  She’d given them a hard time, and didn’t regret it one bit, relishing the memory of kicking one of her captors in the balls. He’d squealed like a girl and had been so furious that he’d punched Allegra hard in the head. She’d seen stars, but it had been so worth it.

  Not long after that, they’d drugged her.

  Now, she cracked open her eyes, thankful for the light in the room, however meager and cold. She’d grown weary of the constant darkness around her head.

  The hood had slowly begun to suffocate her.

  Vague shapes formed around her; a dull fluorescent light shone from the ceiling, safely hidden behind a recessed panel, covered in solid metal bars. The room lacked windows too, and Allegra began to feel somewhat claustrophobic. She’d never been afraid of enclosed spaces. And yet now a rising panic began to take over her senses.

  Breathing deeply, she forced herself into a sitting position. She remained still for a moment while the spinning in her head settled. Gripping the edge of the bed, she boosted herself to her feet, steadying her swaying body with a hand on the wall.

  A few stretches, a handful of jumping jacks, and some walking helped Allegra feel a little steadier on her feet, and she turned her attention to the room.

  She couldn’t help the cold laugh that escaped her lips.

  A hotel room?

  What a joke.

  Dull patterned carpeting covered the floor, a double-bed sat against the right-hand wall, flanked by two nightstands. On the wall opposite the bed sat a dresser, a metal sheet recessed into the brick behind it pretending to be a mirror.

  A small arrangement of a tiny, two-person dining table and two metal chairs occupied the back wall. The table and chairs were all securely bolted to the floor.

  After checking the bed, nightstands and dresser, she confirmed that all the furniture was equally fixed and immovable.

  Smart.

  As with most hotel rooms, a small passage led to the exit, with the entrance to the bathroom to the right. Allegra rushed to the door, grabbing hold of the handle and trying to open it, desperate to get out.

  The door wouldn’t budge.

  She cried out in frustration, turning around and slamming her back against the door. She rested her head on the cold metal and stared up at the ceiling, hope threatening to disappear.

  But she cou
ldn’t give up now.

  Straightening she took a deep breath and focused on the bathroom door at her elbow. The tiny bathroom was meager, tiled in white, the toilet missing its lid, and the toilet paper - that they had thought to provide it was a surprise - was stacked on the floor, no holder in sight.

  Another smart move, because anything rod-like and pointy could be used to kill a person.

  Even the towel rails were missing.

  The sink had separate hot and cold water faucets, but the wrong way around from home. Which made Allegra suspect that she was somewhere on the Latin Continent.

  With her curiosity sated and her frustration levels far too high, Allegra paced the room. She ran out of breath too soon, her throat scratchy, as dry as the Nubian desert.

  A polystyrene water jug and two paper cups sat on the dresser.

  No glass.

  Pity.

  Coughing slightly, Allegra reached for the jug and poured herself a cupful. She drank deeply, figuring if her captors had wanted to drug her, they’d likely just stab her with a needle to get the job done.

  No need for subterfuge, considering they had subjected her to such jabbing already.

  Feeling a little better after the drink, Allegra took stock. Her spine and limbs were stiff, muscles tight, clothing wrinkled beyond belief even for the easy-wear fabric, and stained with sweat too.

  Allegra needed a shower.

  She scanned the drawers in the dresser and came up empty. No change of clothes; maybe they weren’t so considerate after all. She recalled seeing a towel folded on the basin and headed for the bathroom. The towel was far too short, hardly larger than a face towel.

  With a sigh, she used the toilet, but wasn’t confident enough to fully disrobe and shower. Instead, she washed at the sink, cleaning up as best as she could with the tiny sliver of soap sitting beside the taps. She felt fresher, but without clean clothes she remained uncomfortable.