by Frank Morin
Bhumibol sprang to his feet, but Tomas waved him back down with his silenced pistol. “I’d hate to return you to a wheelchair so soon.”
The recently transferred king settled slowly into his chair. “You are here to kill me, so why should I make your job easier?”
“You’ll keep living as long as I’m satisfied with the answers you give me.”
“I could just start shouting,” Bhumibol countered. “Then you’d learn nothing.”
Anaru stepped out of a closet. “Bad idea. I don’t mind killing all your guards and staff, but my boss tends to get annoyed by the mess.”
The giant Maori’s presence intimidated the king as thoroughly as Tomas had hoped. Anaru was very good at what he did, and he’d thrown himself into bringing as much honor to his position as Tomas’ second as possible. Tomas had worried Anaru would hold a lingering grudge from losing the duel for the captain’s post, but the mighty warrior had accepted his fall with remarkable grace.
“Now that we have that settled,” Tomas said, dropping into a chair. “Let’s talk.”
Bhumibol did a remarkable job of retaining his composure. The old man had not survived as long as he had as monarch without learning to deal with surprises. “Ask your questions and then get out.”
“Why did you try to kill me and Eirene?”
“Failure to complete your contract.”
“Eirene was the target of a very subtle assassination attempt,” Tomas said.
“Excuses do not interest me,” Bhumibol responded. “Had I tried to break the contract, you would have exacted retribution against me. Why do you feel betrayed that I reacted the same way?”
“We acted in good faith and would have completed the transfer in time.”
“So you claim. What you did was leave my grandson in agony for hours. The pain broke his mind.”
“For that, I am sorry. However, the blame lies at the hands of Eirene’s attackers.”
Bhumibol shrugged. “He served his purpose, but I must protest on principle.”
“Indeed. Who completed your soul transfer?”
“Another party.”
“This is where the conversation may turn ugly,” Tomas warned. “We both know I’ll get the information one way or the other.”
“True,” Bhumibol said. “However now I can say I resisted the interrogation as long as I could.”
The man’s cold logic was representative of many who managed to procure second lives. They were survivors, who accepted the fact that their lives were worth more than any others. He wouldn’t make any useless, heroic gestures that might get him hurt.
“So you’ve resisted,” Tomas said. “Tell me about this other party.”
“Chinese. The man who performed the soul transfer did not share a name, but his associated called himself James.”
Tomas found that interesting. Another rather bland, biblical name for the enemy. “Describe the facetaker.”
“As I said, Chinese. Unusually tall and muscular, but definitely Chinese features.”
Tomas shared a glance with Anaru. None of the facetakers affiliated with the council were Chinese. He hadn’t heard of any emerging from that area in a long time.
“And their price included the changes in the government and the new stance against China,” Tomas prodded.
“If you know all that, why do you need to ask me?”
“Why those demands? To what end?”
Bhumibol shrugged. “That, I do not know.”
“How do you contact them?”
“I do not. I’ve followed their instructions, and they stated they will contact me with future guidance.”
“For how long?”
Bhumibol shrugged again. “Does it matter? The price is a small thing for this second life.”
“Tell me more about the facetaker and his men,” Tomas said, hiding his frustration.
The young-old king spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “There is nothing more. I do not know where they came from, and I know nothing of where they went when they left. I saw only James and his master. They informed me that your council is broken and cannot complete your work, but they could do so.”
“And you believed them?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “Eirene was lingering close to death, my last moment was upon me, and I couldn’t wait.”
“You’ll hear from me again,” Tomas promised as he rose to his feet. “Do not cross the council, or your second life will be short-lived.”
“Speak with me after your current troubles are resolved,” Bhumibol responded. “I do not know the details of your strife, but I’ve lived long enough to recognize that war has come to the facetakers. I am not your enemy, and if you prevail, I will make restitution to Eirene. Until then, do not bother me again.”
Anaru stood and produced a roll of duct tape.
“That won’t be necessary,” Bhumibol objected. “We have already agreed you would leave after our discussion.”
Anaru gave Tomas a pleading look. He loved taping people up. Usually they struggled and gave him an excuse to hit them a few times.
“All right,” Tomas said, motioning Anaru back. “We’ll leave. If you break your word, I’ll let Anaru level this palace.”
“My word is my life.”
Tomas led Anaru out of the room and did not look back. He wondered if the old king knew those were the truest words he had ever spoken.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Waste no more time talking about great souls and how they should be. Become one yourself!
~Marcus Aurelius, fourth life of Emperor Nerva
Sarah returned to Quentin’s mansion and worked on her rune for a while. With a new Cui Dashi hunting her, she needed every advantage.
She worked for a couple of hours, poring through the runes she had gotten from Alter, with her runesmith kit open on her desk. It seemed to help because the concepts made more sense than ever, and she drafted pieces of several promising higher runes, experimenting with combining various basic symbols. Considering the ramifications of how they’d interact together was like piecing together a complex, three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle.
Despite feeling like she made solid progress in her understanding of rune design, she still couldn’t work out the missing pieces she sought. The partially-completed rune was still lacking something important to tie it all together, and she felt driven to complete it.
Frustrated, she descended to the workout room and beat on the punching bag for half an hour. Sometimes physical activity helped free her mind, but that time it didn’t work.
Alter entered the room. “I thought I’d find you in here.”
“Hi,” she said. “I just finished my workout. I’m going to swim. Want to join me?”
“I’m not much of a swimmer.”
“Then you need to practice.”
It was good to see him return her smile. He had to be worried sick about his family, which was probably why he’d seemed so short-tempered earlier. She was grateful he had decided to stay. Without him, they’d lose all access to the memoryscape.
“And you need to practice fighting,” he said, raising his hands to a ready position. “Want to go a round?”
Sarah shook her head. Usually she loved fighting with Alter, but she felt tired and a little frustrated. The swim would probably help. She dropped onto a padded bench near the window and drank from her water bottle.
“I’ve had enough for today. I would like to learn more about rune warriors, though. Our discussion got cut short at dinner, and things have been crazy since then.”
“You can say that again,” Alter muttered as he sat beside her. “No new information about your genealogy. Your lines are too thoroughly burned out for any conclusion, and the family lacks the resources to dig deeper.”
“There has to be a way to know,” she pressed.
“There is a way,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “What’s made you suddenly so eager?”
“Paul. In
some ways he frightens me more than Mai Luan did. She almost killed all of us, Alter. We have to pursue anything that might give us an advantage against him.”
Besides, she yearned to find a tangible link to the terrifying world of soul powers she’d stumbled into. That might help her feel like she really belonged there and wasn’t just allowed to hang around because she was dating the captain of the guard.
“There are risks associated with all forms of power.” As interested as he had been in the initial idea of connecting her to Joan of Arc’s bloodline, he now looked reluctant.
“What’s the hold-up?” Sarah demanded. “Paul’s planning to kill me, so I don’t have time for you to hold back, Alter.”
“The chance is slim that you’re part of that bloodline.” He considered her for a moment before adding. “I see you want it.”
She took his hands in hers. “I need it. It’s a matter of survival.”
“But that power could be used for such evil,” Alter whispered. “You heard what happened to Vlad.”
“I also heard what Joan of Arc was trying to do,” she countered. “Power is power, Alter. You use yours for good. If I had some, I could do the same.”
“But if you didn’t, if you gave in to the temptation to misuse it. . .” He looked anguished.
“Are you saying you’d kill me?”
She spoke in a light tone, planning on making the question more of a tease, but he looked away and said a little too quickly, “No.”
“But your family would,” she added softly, feeling a little sick. They knew about her already. As if a Cui Dashi wasn’t enough to worry about. She didn’t need hunters joining the club.
“It is our sworn duty.”
“Trust me, Alter. You can do that, right?”
He took a deep breath and nodded.
“Then how do we prove it?”
“There is a rune unique to rune warriors. I’ve already requested a copy from my father.”
“How will that help?” The thought of a new rune filled her with a thrill of anticipation.
“You’ll see.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Trust me,” he said with a hint of a smile.
“Oh, that’s not fair,” she groaned.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Just get that rune fast,” she said.
“Why don’t you tell me about how your rune turns you ghosty in the memoryscape.” Alter frowned. “Is ghosty even a word?”
“It’s the only one that fits. I go kind of incorporeal. Solid objects like swords pass right through me.”
“That can’t be healthy,” Alter said with a grimace.
“Healthier than the alternative.” At least he didn’t call it an abomination.
When he nodded, she added, “I didn’t plan it. It just happened. And I’m glad it did. If not, Mai Luan would have killed me, and I never would have escaped Paul.”
Alter rose and paced away, expression thoughtful. “I’ve never heard of runes causing effects like that, and you’re not the first to have worn your rune.”
“I’m the first to wear it on my shoulder,” she pointed out. “And I doubt anyone else walked the memoryscape like we do.”
“True,” he agreed. “But even with the unique situation, I don’t understand how it’s working like that. Our runes just don’t work that way.”
“Is there really a limit to what runes can do?” Sarah asked. She’d never considered the question.
“There are things we don’t do,” he said. “Even if they were possible.”
“Are you saying my rune is somehow evil?” she asked, rising to face him. “Alter, it’s saved my life several times.”
“I don’t know what it is,” he said, drawing closer. “But I worry about you, Sarah.”
“Then help me explore every possible way to survive.”
“I plan to.”
With a little smile, he drew from his pocket a folded piece of paper upon which he’d drawn her mostly-completed rune. He’d added a large new rune to it, with a central shape that encircled the inner marks, and three interlocked spirals that wove through, and linked together, the other symbols. The design was bold and beautiful and daring.
Sarah took it from him, tracing the new design. “Wow,” she breathed after a moment. “When did you come up with this?”
“We’ve been thinking along the same lines,” he said, his smile widening to a grin at her approval. “With another Cui Dashi on the loose, you need more enhancements. The rune you’ve been working on has incredible potential, and I came up with this idea to complete it.”
It was complete. Finally. Despite a lingering feeling that the ultimate design she’d been working toward was still not quite realized, he’d produced something wonderful. “I don’t recognize this symbol.”
“It’s not a core rune we often use. We tend to focus on the ones proven and deeply understood. Runes often hold multiple meanings, and those variations can produce unexpected results when not taken into account. This rune is an ancient Celtic symbol.”
“You’ve never used those before.” She’d thought power runes needed to be primarily Egyptian and Chinese, with a few notable exceptions.
“The symbol is older than the Celts. It’s been found as far back as 4400 B.C. in Malta, and it was used as the symbol for the Gorgon Medusa in ancient Sicily.”
He took the paper and produced a pen, quickly sketching out the symbol by itself. “It’s been used by others as well. It’s known as the triskelion, and there is some difference of opinion about its ultimate meaning, which is why we rarely use it. In this case, it fit your rune so perfectly, I thought it worth trying.”
“It’s impressive. You’ve got to share with me a list of those other symbols.”
“Sarah, don’t go jumping into fringe runes.” Alter warned. “Just because I dared incorporate one doesn’t mean it’s safe to do so.”
“But I can’t ignore the possibility.” She couldn’t understand why he would willfully limit her education. She’d approach other symbols with care, but how could he think it best to bar her from even knowing about them?
“Just focus on this one for now.” He pointed at the rune with its central core and triple spiraled leg design. “This rune is often associated with a sense of action.”
“I can see that.”
“This design is usually interpreted as linking spirit, mind, and body.”
“There are other possibilities though, aren’t there?”
“Yes. Sometimes it’s interpreted as linking past, present, and future, or even linking the three Celtic worlds: the spirit world, present world, and celestial world.”
Sarah nodded her head slowly, taking the paper and again tracing the rune with her finger, studying how he’d worked it into the broader design. “I think all three of those interpretations could manifest through this.”
“That’s my concern,” he said. “I like the finished product, but it’s not as stable as I prefer my runes to be. The more I look at it, the less I think I made the right choice in picking this one.”
“I disagree,” Sarah said, pulling the paper away when he reached for it. “I’m liking it more and more. Let’s give it a try.”
“I’m not convinced it’ll produce the effect I was aiming for.”
Sarah paced away and Alter followed, looking like he wanted to snatch the paper from her hands. She considered the design again. “This is a powerful rune, Alter, very powerful. The melding of the times and aspects of self, linked to the other basic runes, would be an exceptionally strong enhancement.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “That’s what I saw first, what excited me about it. But there are layers that could produce other things.”
“I sense enhanced healing in here,” Sarah said, losing herself in her study. “And something to do with enlightenment.”
Alter frowned. “That’s a bit tenuous.”
She shrugged. “I see it, though.” She turned to
face him, making up her mind. “I want this rune, Alter. Let’s inscribe it temporarily. It might give me the edge I need against Paul.”
“And it might hurt you,” Alter retorted.
Sarah shook her head. “It won’t, and you know it. It might enhance some attributes differently than we suspect, but I don’t think it’ll actually hurt.”
“But, Sarah--”
She stepped close, surprising him by gripping his shoulders. “Look me in the eye and tell me you think this rune would do me harm, Alter.”
He squirmed under her gaze, but she held him and, as usual, his desire to stand close to her won out over any thought of breaking free.
After a moment, he sighed. “It probably won’t hurt.”
She grinned and released him, but he added, “But that doesn’t mean I think it’s a good idea.”
“Well I’m the one testing it, and I accept the risk.”
“There’s one other problem,” Alter said, looking uncomfortable. “The placement.”
She hadn’t thought about that part yet. Alter had taught her much about soul points, pressure points, and energy flow, and how all of that needed to be incorporated into the decision about where to mark runes for optimal effect. Thankfully she possessed an innate sense of where different symbols needed to go. She couldn’t explain it, but the feeling was always undeniable, and it hadn’t guided her wrong yet.
For the first time, she second-guessed it. She frowned. “Tell me you’re thinking this rune needs to be marked on my stomach.”
He shook his head. “Not exactly.”
Her frown deepened and she met his gaze. “It needs to be on my right thigh, just below my hip, doesn’t it?”
Alter nodded. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
For a moment, she wondered if that was one of the reasons he’d used that particular symbol. She doubted it, though. The idea of marking a rune there seemed to embarrass him. He reached one finger toward the spot, but then withdrew it, flushing. The fact that he was so attracted to her made the conversation a bit awkward, but the rune wouldn’t work anywhere else.
Alter coughed. “That location, so close to the, uh. . .” He coughed again. “So close to the procreative center, is sealed usually to only one rune. That one is fairly basic and enhances life, well-being, and empathy.”