The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  “I didn’t know you could lose them,” Wade interrupted. “I mean…”

  “Well it’s not impossible but it is rare. If they’re foresworn away and you stop using them, they can atrophy completely. If they’re never developed in the first place like you seem so intent on doing, it gets harder and harder. My sister went the same path, rest her soul, she trained and eventually just lost her faith it was the way forward. Didn’t save her. She and her husband died, her daughter lost, her son oblivious because of my intervention. The events that preceded the Fall did untold damage not just to the Vedo but to the Kjarn itself. It affected people in different ways, some went mad, some lost their power, some died. Some had all the above. And yet if Wim managed to get it back, it’s not impossible he could have. There’s always a way. The Kjarn will always triumph over any adversary.”

  “You talk about it like it’s alive.”

  “Well of course it’s alive,” Ruud said softly. “Just because you can’t register a heartbeat on it, doesn’t mean it isn’t. The Kjarn is life, it is the parts that make life, the two are intimately connected beyond rationale.”

  “It did her a whole lot of good,” Wade said, looking down at the grave. “I spoke to her a lot, I was going to be best man at her wedding, I never got the impression she was one of you.”

  “She wasn’t,” Ruud said. “I trained her, she was my apprentice way back before the Fall. She was never raised, she only got as far as ascendant, she had the potential, but her heart was… It was never in the role, she always wanted to be a spirit caller more than anything. She had a gift and she was happy to learn how to use it but at the same time I always got the impression she’d have been happier if her father had never forced her into it. Canderous Arventino I remember only too well. He was not a good man, a bully and a bastard.”

  His face took on a nostalgic look, tinged with regret and recollection. “I killed him, you know? I never told Sharon that, but I always got the feeling that she knew. I didn’t want… Yeah I didn’t want her to be disappointed.”

  “If he was that bad…”

  “He was still her father and one of the highest of the Vedo, perhaps the only reason she wasn’t allowed to leave. If her father had been a nobody, a journeyman with no significant skill or status, she might have been able to slip through the cracks, nothing but a memory. Still Canderous went the way of the rest of them, brain-fried by the Kjarn and…”

  “That’s actually a danger? And you’re training people in this?”

  Ruud rolled his eyes. “It’s not a danger with the right training. The Fall… It hurt the Kjarn because it made it just so damn addictive. It dulled the senses, made your judgement slacken… Soon you were little more than a puppet. Your brain was gone, mind shattered and your body animated by the Kjarn. It was exceptional circumstances. I hope to all Divines above it is never repeated.” Wade said nothing, found it a lot to take in. He was vaguely aware more had joined them around the grave, men and women he didn’t recognise beyond a solemn looking Clara. All of them bore the same look, tired regret, heads bowed, arms together.

  “Sharon Arventino,” Ruud said. “One of us. In life and in death, a noble heart, a kind spirit and a ferocious combatant. A woman who…” He let out a long sigh, a choked breath caught in his throat. Just for a moment, Wade thought he saw his friend’s eyes glisten, but he clamped down on it just in time. For a moment, the façade had nearly cracked and what Ruud was really feeling had almost shown through. “Excuse me. A woman who we’ll miss. Those of you here may not have known her. But you’ll feel the loss in generations to come. We all will. The stars in the sky have one more in their collective now, she is one with the Kjarn and through the Kjarn, her memory will live on, join the names of those fallen in the past. She lived a Vedo, she died a friend. That is all we can ask for of life. May the Kjarn embrace those who mourn her. May her spark join the blue flame of the Vedo evermore.”

  He didn’t remain, turned tail and walked away. Wade found himself turning to follow him, suddenly glad to be away from the permeating aura of sadness filling the immediate area around the grave. Ruud was right, he didn’t know any of the people here barring Clara and maybe Sharon had known them, possibly, but the feeling had been there. Unavoidable, genuine regret. And he’d felt it too, a sensation that had simultaneously overawed and unnerved him beyond belief. “Ruud,” he said. He saw him slow to a stop, crane his head back across to meet his gaze.

  “Yeah?”

  “You loved her, didn’t you?”

  “Like the daughter I never had,” Ruud said. “The bond between teacher and student… She was beautiful, I knew that, and she knew that, but I never felt the need to violate that bond. I loved her equal parts daughter, equal parts little sister. She’d been trusted into my care. They wanted me to have her, they thought it’d calm me down, stop me wandering off on Unisco business and give me more of a tie to the order. Unlike her, I didn’t have any such high ranked father.” A bitter grin burst across his face. “They always thought I’d leave, just not come back one day. I think that’s the reason I never did, you know. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d been right about me. Like her, I never really felt comfortable in that order. And look at me now, in charge. The Kjarn has its own funny ways.” He turned away, cleared his throat. “I don’t think Terry’s going to wait forever for us now, do you?”

  Wade smiled, made to follow him. He was right, of course. Ruud likely would be here, if he wasn’t required by the ICCC. He was surprised even then that he’d shown up. Ruud never gave the impression he’d be overtly bothered if they pursued legal action against him. And yet he’d brought his entourage with him. There was obviously something going on, something Wade couldn’t quite see just yet. It was an infuriating feeling to be infinitely aware there was some piece of the puzzle you couldn’t place and if you could just see it, then all would fall into place.

  The moment they’d knocked at the hotel room door and waited to be admitted entrance, Ruud’s entire demeanour had changed, the sorrow had gone and been replaced by the same consummate professionalism with which he’d carried himself all through his years as an active Unisco agent. Arnholt gave them that permission, allowed them to enter and he’d embraced Wade like an old friend. When the two of them had started at Unisco way back in the day, Arnholt had been their immediate superior. Twenty years later, here they all were again. The irony wasn’t lost on Wade. Time had a funny way of coming back around on you when you least expected it.

  “Ruud,” Arnholt said warmly.

  “Director.” Still referring to him by his title, Wade noticed with a grin. “You’re looking well.”

  “Not sure if that’ll last,” Arnholt said with a weary grin. “I could say the same to you, retirement suits you. Not sure about the beard though, I think it makes you look like a vagrant.”

  “I think it makes me look wise. And knowledgeable.”

  Wade smirked at that, bit back a remark. None of his business. “Plus, hard to find razors where I’ve been. Wasn’t so bad growing it after the first six months.”

  “Fascinating.” Arnholt gestured over to the cool box in the corner, a big corporate logo stamped on the side of bright blue plastic. “Drink? Water, iced coffee, soda beer? Wade?”

  “I’ll take water,” Ruud said softly, the same moment Wade chose to get a soda beer. The stuff wasn’t alcoholic, no danger of it interfering with his meds. It just tasted as if it was, which he liked about it really. The cans of iced coffee remained untouched, he noticed. Wade took the offered can, put it on the table but didn’t open it. Ruud unscrewed the lid of his water, took a deep draw.

  “It’s a bad time, Ruud,” Arnholt said. “I don’t think anyone realises just how bad it might get right now. The Senate wants it resolved quickly…”

  “I imagine they would,” Ruud replied. “But I agree with you. Based on my admittedly limited understanding of the situation, mainly what I see in the media, I don’t think
this is going to go away without one hells of a fight. Not just a fight to win, it’s going to be a fight to hold on to everything held dear. The future rests on a pivot, what happens over the coming months is that pivot. You will win it or lose it in the next several weeks, the lines will be drawn early.”

  “I knew there was a reason I wanted to talk to you,” Arnholt said. “You have an uncanny knack for telling it how it is in as poetic a manner as possible. Unfortunately, that’s not the reason. Wim Carson. Talk to me about him.”

  “I already told Wade… Agent Wallerington… everything that I could. He was a scholar more than anything, a man who sought out knowledge. When the Vedo fell, he lost everything but his life. There were few survivors of that cataclysm, him, me, Sharon Arventino, one or two others sadly no longer with us. I would have done more for him after what happened but well, we all had to deal with our own problems. By the time I could help, he’d slipped through the cracks, his mind broken and beyond me. How he’s walking around again, I don’t know. I wish I did. It might explain a lot of things.”

  “Caldwell… we had him on the inside, right in Coppinger’s ear, yet he couldn’t get anything on the subject beyond the two of them had some sort of deal,” Arnholt said. “Coppinger and Carson, I don’t know what they’d be able to do for the other. She’s a billionaire industrialist turned international terrorist, he was a mystic with a magic sword…”

  “And formerly in charge of the biggest library in the five kingdoms,” Ruud said. “I wouldn’t underestimate anything he could have brought to her table. It must have been something she needed. What’s her endgame? What do we know? As Carson likely proves in this situation, knowledge is the true power in the kingdoms.”

  “It’s a we now, is it?” Wade asked. Ruud gave him a sarcastic look in reply.

  “The adage that it’s easy to fall back into bad habits is truer than you might believe,” he said thoughtfully. “Well I say we for a reason. The director is going to try and get me back into the mix.”

  Arnholt said nothing, kept his face neutral. Wade wouldn’t have liked to have played Ruin with the man. He wasn’t giving anything away to his true intentions.”

  “And I’m going to have to decline. I’m afraid the constraints on my time are as such that I wouldn’t be able to function as a field operative.”

  “You’re wrong, you know,” Arnholt said. “I wasn’t going to ask you to come back. Not permanently. You got out, I was happy to let you go your own way. You’d done a lot, more than returned our investment in you. No point making you keep on going until you died. And it appears that very little has changed with you in this regard.”

  “I have people who depend on me,” Ruud said. “Like you. People I’m responsible for, people who I’ve invested a great deal of time and effort in. I’m not abandoning them right now. I absolutely will not do that.” His hand twitched, like he wanted to smack it against the table to emphasise his point. Wade leaned back, cracked open his can and took a swallow of the amber liquid inside. It fizzed in his throat, he was grateful to feel the bitter taste against his tongue.

  “Is there anything at all you might be able to do to help us locate Wim Carson? Any sort of hideout, safe house, anything you know of that might lead us to him?”

  Ruud’s laugh was sarcastic. “He lived in a cave up in the Fangs before the Fall. After the Fall, I believed he went from respected scholar to homeless, credit-less vagrant bumming around the five kingdoms. He went from everything to less than nothing. I’m not entirely sure where you think he got the resources from to get a safe house. You won’t find him like that. I think he’ll be with Claudia Coppinger, personally. It’s about the only place he’ll have to go. Plus, he always did like charismatic women. One of his weaknesses. Should have seen him with the leader of the old order. She couldn’t have had him on a leash any more if she’d tried. Think he’d have eaten out of her hand if she’d let him.”

  “Then you’ve got nothing for us?”

  Ruud stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll meditate on the matter, see what I can find. Perhaps I can divine some sort of location for him although I doubt it’ll be much use. My particular talents don’t lie in that area; it has been left somewhat neglected over the years. Our Cognivites are untrained, potentially fantastic but inexperienced I’m afraid to say.” He straightened up though. “Any useful information I find though, I’ll be sure to pass it on to you.”

  “Thank you. And I’m sorry that you’re unwilling to come back to us. The agency hasn’t been the same since you left. You were one of our best operatives. A lot of the recruits these days can’t hold a candle to you,” Arnholt said, nodding his head as he said it. “Still, if you’re unwilling to change your mind, no point in regrets. Are you sure I can’t get you a better drink than that water?”

  Ruud shook his head. “I’m good, director. And I thank you for your compliments, but this is one time that flattery won’t get you everywhere. I’m just passing through. I’ve got places to be in a few days’ time.”

  “You caught any of the Quin-C so far?” Wade asked. If Ruud wasn’t coming back, there was little point in carrying on the discussion. Their information was classified, it was kept that way for a reason, no point Ruud knowing more than he was meant to for now. A lot of the tenseness faded in the room with that, all professionalism gone and suddenly they were just three old acquaintances left together, chatting about old times and the impending futures.

  Chapter Twenty-Two. And Here We Are…

  “Everybody loves that final day, a time of hope and expectations, a time when you can dare to dream. For one of these two callers, their dream is going to come true. Neither of them expected to be here, they’ve defied all odds… In a way, you could say they’re both winners. At least until that final spirit falls anyway and then one of them actually is.”

  Terrence Arnholt.

  The ninth day of Summerfall.

  Scott couldn’t sleep. Small wonder really. He rolled over, looked to the timepiece on the bedside and saw there were still another three hours before it was reasonable to even consider getting up. He let out a little sigh, the sound lost amidst the delicate little snores coming from Mia, her head on his chest. Her breath was warm, she was a comforting presence, being this close to her made everything feel so very vivid. Somewhere out in the night, Permear was floating around but Scott didn’t know where.

  Part of him really didn’t want to know. The ghost had been acting more than a little strange recently, as if he knew something weird was going on but unwilling to share it with the rest of them. If it was something, it might not have been, but at the same time, he couldn’t shake that weird little feeling he was going to have a very bad time sooner or later. He just hoped it wasn’t going to be during that small event coming his way. The Quin-C final.

  Weeks ago, he could only have dreamed about being here and yet it had become reality he couldn’t quite believe had come to pass. He let out another little sigh. The past few days, well ever since the semi really, they’d all gone by in sort of one big blur, they’d been a mix of research and practice, sparring with a mix of Pete, Mia and Matt, none of whom were any sort of substitute for what he’d face against Theo, but it was good to keep practicing. He’d faced Theo once already, in the semi and he’d failed miserably to even come close to beating him but that didn’t matter now. He’d researched him even more thoroughly now than he had then, he’d had Kitti Sommer to worry about at the same time, but with that barrier out of the way, he’d thrown all his attentions towards Jameson. More than that, he knew Anne Sullivan had been training him, so he’d looked at some of her styles as well. When being trained one on one by another spirit caller, it wasn’t uncommon remnants of their style would creep into the process.

  More than once, he’d considered even asking Terrence Arnholt for some sparring practice, the man infinitely more skilled than either of his children, a lot more experienced than himself or Pete. It would have been the smart thing to do an
d yet at the same time, Scott had refrained from doing so. When he’d met him for the first time, when Mia had introduced him as her boyfriend, he’d been more than a little uneasy about it, felt like he was looking right through him with those emotionless grey eyes. There was something more than a little off-putting about Terrence Arnholt, Scott got the feeling he didn’t entirely like him.

  Or maybe he just doesn’t like what I’m doing to his daughter, he’d thought later. That was entirely possible and not at all unreasonable. He smiled a little at that thought, even as Mia coughed in her sleep, an adorable sound. He closed his eyes, settled back and once more tried to let sleep overtake him. No use. He shifted underneath her, tried to get a little more comfortable. She coughed again, three little hacks in a row this time. Something wet hit his bare chest. Nice, she was drooling on him. He’d have to remind her about this in the morning, see her squirm a little. More droplets hit him. For some reason, he could smell the ocean. The scent of salt and the sound of ocean birds, the lap of waves against rocks…

  That coughing turned into choking, more water touched him, Scott jerked bolt upright in bed and Mia fell off him, spasming helplessly amidst the choking, water flooding from her. Suddenly the bed was soaking wet, puddles forming on the carpet, her hair billowing out around her head like she was submerged. Slowly her flailing turned violent, her foot caught him in the chest and kicked him off the bed, he hit the carpet with a soggy squelch and he saw her movements slow as the chokes died away, her head falling listlessly against the bed, water still streaming from her mouth, one final harsh breath slipping from her.

  He was immensely proud of the fact that he didn’t wake up screaming. He’d never done it before after bad dreams and he wasn’t about to start now. Not even close. Not even Permear stood floating above his head, if that was the right word was going to put him in that frame of mind. The ghost glowed eerie bright blue in the darkness, his tongue out in front of him listlessly in the air as if he were trying to catch bugs. “Hey, bagmeat,” he said nonchalantly. “That was a doozy of a dream, I think. Why you all damp?”