The Charm Runner (Broken Throne Book 1)

by Jamie Davis

  Winnie reminded herself to make time to hit the warehouse Artos had set up for Winnie and her crew so she could check on those items already delivered. Cait and Joey were watching over the place. Tris would be by this evening to get everything scheduled for delivery.

  The TV was on in the background. Something grabbed her attention.

  “ … Resolution 85, called an emergency measure by members of the Assembly, has been passed unanimously. Director Kane said it will ensure the continued safety of all law-abiding citizens, both middling and chanter.”

  Another announcer came on-screen. Winnie froze to watch the news.

  “This new Resolution is certainly far-reaching in its scope. As the senior correspondent from the Assembly, what are the key points our audience needs to know?”

  “Good question, Bob. Resolution 85 is said to be a follow-up to Resolution 84. The new measure ensures the safety of all citizens by protecting anyone who wishes to avoid magical contact to do so.”

  “How will it do that?”

  “The ruling allows for members of the Department of Magical Containment to begin registering all chanters immediately. If Director Kane is to be believed, his Red Legs will be out setting up registration stations around the perimeter of the Enclaves, everywhere across the United Americas. Registration requires that all chanters, adults or teens over the age of 14, present themselves to authorities with official proof of identity. They will be fingerprinted and photographed for future reference and national safety.”

  “Wow, that seems like quite an undertaking. Are there any other aspects of the new law that affect our chanter viewers?”

  “Yes, Bob. Chanters of every age will be required to wear a red armband on their right arms whenever traveling outside of the Enclaves. According to Director Kane, this is to ensure that any concerned middling citizen who wishes to avoid unnecessary contact with magic can recognize spell casters and keep a safe distance if they wish.”

  “So it’s a safety measure for everyone, and those who are calling this a racist act on the part of the Assembly are unfounded in their accusations?”

  “Correct, Bob. Director Kane says that those against this common-sense measure are likely the same people trying to circumvent laws and prior Resolutions from the Assembly. A law-abiding chanter has nothing to fear from these new initiatives.”

  The conversation between the announcer and the field reporter continued. But Winnie didn’t hear another word. She was standing there, stunned. The phone buzzed in her hand; she didn’t even notice. What were they thinking? They couldn’t do this. There was no way people would sit still. This time, they’d gone too far. Chanters would revolt against such measures. And middlings needed them. People like Tris kept their world running.

  Her phone buzzed again. Winnie looked at the screen — a text from Gunderson, requesting that she please come and see Mr. Merrilyn at her earliest convenience.

  This wasn’t a coincidence. It had to be about the new resolution and how it would affect their business. It would be easier for people to remember their passing in neighborhoods where they didn’t belong. It would be easy for the Red Legs to pick them up; everyone was essentially being told that all chanters were dangerous and possibly criminals.

  Winnie texted a reply and prepared to leave. Fortunately, her morning sickness usually subsided so long as she kept nibbling on something. She always kept a couple of cookies or a candy bar in her pockets to help. The nurse practitioner at the hospital’s ER had also sent her off with a prescription for special pregnancy vitamins. They were big as a bus and hard to swallow. She took two a day. Winnie took one now so she wouldn’t have to take it with her.

  Outside, the street buzzed about Resolution 85. Most people seemed to shrug and say things like: “What harm could it do?” or “It’s important to show we can be peaceful.” Winnie wondered if they were all idiots. If one looked at all of the resolutions passed over the years, leading up to the last two, one saw a clear progression of what the Assembly was trying to do. It wanted to know where every chanter was at all times. If there was a problem, they wanted to blame magic and chanters.

  Winnie got angrier. She boarded the bus to more people making excuses for what Resolution 85 was asking them to do, and stewed in their idiocy for several city miles. She was fuming by the time she arrived outside of Artos’s building.

  Mr. Gunderson seemed startled when he looked up at Winnie from his desk.

  “Uh, hello Miss Durham. Let me advise Mr. Merrilyn that you are here. Please have a seat.”

  “I prefer to stand, thank you,” she snapped.

  “I see. As you wish.”

  Winnie paced the antechamber while the old man murmured into his phone.

  He hung up, stood, and walked to Artos’s office door. “Mr. Merrilyn will see you now.”

  Winnie stormed inside, right past Gunderson.

  Artos sat behind his desk, turned toward a monitor built into his office wall. He clapped once and the TV died.

  “Well, what are we going to do about this?” Winnie asked without preamble.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we can’t let them do this to us.”

  “There is nothing to do. It is done. This is what it means when people say that the victors write history. The Assembly has the power to do whatever they want.”

  “So there’s nothing we can do? Did you know that people are barely even complaining?

  “Again, what would you have them do?”

  Winnie stopped talking and looked back at Artos. He wasn’t taunting her. He was asking a simple question. But simple questions didn’t always have simple answers. She shrugged.

  “Exactly. They don’t have an alternative because they don’t understand the stakes. We have a suspicion, but we don’t know the full stakes, either. Director Kane is up to something here, something specific. Until we narrow down what that is, we have no choice but to go along … ”

  Winnie started to interrupt, but Artos raised his hand.

  “As I was saying. We have no choice but to heed the Resolution, with a caveat. We will not advertise our presence on deliveries. This means we’ll need to be even more careful. We can’t draw attention to our activities outside the Enclave.”

  “So no armband while running charms. Makes sense. We’re already breaking the law. Why worry about an armband?”

  “Exactly. In the meantime, I want you to go about your work. I’m trying to dig, see if I can find out what’s going on under the surface. This all goes to Kane’s Project X. If I can find out what it is, I suspect more information will fall in line. Tell your crew to keep their eyes and ears open. The slightest slip from one of your well-placed clients may lead us to exactly what we need to know.”

  “I’ll do that. I was heading over there after I left you here.”

  “Good. Now, I have a question or two for you. How is your mother and how are you feeling? I understand there is a secondary medical issue to worry about.”

  How did he know about her pregnancy? She’d only told Morgan.

  “My mother is as well as can be expected. She should be coming home tomorrow. As for me, I’m fine. I’ll let you know if anything threatens to keep me from doing my job.”

  Artos smiled. “You’ll want to be careful with your magic around the child. There are precautions to take, I understand.”

  “Let’s make a deal, Artos. You keep an eye out for what you need to pay attention to and I’ll take care of me and mine, alright?”

  Artos laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Understood. Winnie wants a hands-off approach to how she handles her situation. I do wonder if there isn’t something we could be doing to leverage this against the child’s father. He betrayed you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be of use. Perhaps a valuable source of information.”

  “No, Artos. Absolutely not. I will not talk to Danny Barber just so you can use my unborn baby as a tool.”

  “I don’t see you have a choice
, Winnie. You say you don’t want to take the Resolutions lying down. Then, when an opportunity to mine inside information presents itself, you refuse because of your personal discomfort. That is not the voice of a patriot.”

  “I never said I was a patriot.”

  “But, Winnie, that is what you call someone who stands up to oppression. Those people are patriots. Say that you’ll consider it.”

  Winnie gritted her teeth, thinking. She detested Danny Barber, and never wanted anything to do with him. Not ever again. And she didn’t want him to know about this baby, didn’t want him infecting it with his betrayal against her.

  “Winnie. Tell me you’ll consider talking to Danny.”

  “Fine, Artos. I will think — think — about talking to Danny about this.”

  “A good thing. I believe that Daniel Barber might be our best hope of learning what Nils Kane is up to.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Danny didn’t like sulking. It was evidence that he wasn’t doing what he wanted to do and that didn’t match the person he knew he was. Yet sulking was what he’d been doing for the last two weeks, since the job with the justice’s granddaughter had fallen apart.

  His parents had systematically ripped his life apart one piece at a time. He was a prisoner at home. Dad had hired two goons to watch the house and make sure he stayed inside it.

  He had never expected this response from his parents. He thought, at worst, they’d shake their heads and confess their disappointment, like they always had before. But this was different. Father had told him many times that they were at war, and that he’d betrayed them all by going to the other side.

  Danny’s access to anything outside the house was limited. No phone, computer, or anything else that wasn’t curated by his family. The only way he knew what was happening outside was the limited news reports his father watched at night. That was how Danny had learned about the forced registration of chanters. He wondered how Winnie and her friends were reacting. Winnie herself wouldn’t be happy, and might be murderous.

  When he asked his father why the Assembly would do such a thing, he said that “chanters were dangerous to everyone.” He acted like Danny should know, as if Winnie had somehow tricked him into running her charms.

  And then, finally, Danny understood his father’s view. The man thought that his son had been under some sort of spell. Danny had protested, telling him it wasn’t true. But Father had just raised a halting hand, refusing to believe that Danny acted on his own initiative.

  There was a tap on the door. The maid.

  “Master Barber, your mother wishes you to dress for dinner,” Maria said. “They are expecting company and wish you to be presentable for the company. Shall I tell them you will be down promptly at six?”

  Danny wanted to protest, tell her that no, he would not be down to dinner. But that tactic had never worked before. When he’d first come home, he’d tried to rebel. Father had had a simple solution. If Danny refused to come down to meals, dressed appropriately and making pleasant conversation on acceptable topics, his food was taken away and he was told to leave the table. A few days without food and Danny had caved. His weakness ashamed him. His friends had gone to jail; he folded after a few missed meals.

  He glanced at the nightstand clock — it was time to get up and shower. The request to dress for dinner meant one thing: Danny would be expected to appear in a blazer and tie to impress some supposedly important guest.

  He got undressed and slipped into the shower. He rinsed, thinking of Winnie.

  She’d been upset with him when he’d called her on Maria’s phone. He understood her being worried about him. But this was different. He had tried to tell her about his father’s punishments and how he couldn’t escape. She’d turned it back on him, acting as if he’d somehow betrayed the team.

  But why would she ever think such a thing?

  Danny had pondered that, until finally deciding that someone else had betrayed them. That Red Legs officer had known about their operation. Maybe they’d found a way to bug the store again without detection. It was possible, though Cait was confident in her ability to root such things out.

  Danny toweled off and walked into his closet, searching for his evening attire. He settled on a black suit, white shirt, and the black tie he usually reserved for funerals. His way of protesting imprisonment in front of tonight’s guest.

  He dressed, then looked himself over in the mirror. He looked good, as he did in all his tailored suits, but with the appropriate expression, Danny looked somber. It was the best he could do.

  He started downstairs a few minutes before six. As he descended the curved staircase to the entry hall below, Danny heard male voices and saw several armed Red Legs officers standing by the entry door. He wondered who Father was having to dinner.

  Two guards noticed Danny’s descent and followed him with their eyes as he reached the bottom of the stairs. A man in a black overcoat and hat stood with his back to Danny, discussing something with Father. He heard the man’s voice and his blood froze.

  Director Kane was coming to dinner.

  Danny’s father saw him approaching and gestured in his direction. “Director Kane, this is my son Daniel, home recovering from his ordeal with the chanters.”

  The man turned and Danny saw the Director’s face in person for the first time since he’d seen the man casting a spell on his parents, clouding their minds when he was a child.

  “Hello, Daniel. You have certainly grown a lot since we first met.” Kane extended a pale, bony white hand to Danny. He kept his face straight as he internally winced at the man’s powerful grip. The Director grinned. They let go together, Danny resisting the urge to massage his bruised hand.

  “I remember our first meeting Director Kane. A profound moment in my young life.”

  The Director nodded. Danny was sure the man knew exactly what he meant. His father smiled, missing the point.

  “Director Kane, please come into the dining room. We are almost ready to serve dinner. I’ll mix you a drink so you can relax and enjoy your time in our home. Marian is waiting.”

  “Excellent. It will be a pleasure to see her again. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

  The pair walked toward the dining room with Danny trailing behind. Father kept the small talk going as they reached the room. Danny’s mother was directing one of the maids to adjust a setting. She looked up and smiled as her husband led their guest into the room.

  “Director Kane, welcome to our home. We’re so glad you took us up on our standing invitation to join us whenever you’re in town.”

  “Marian, I was pleased to hear your invitation still stood. I understand your cook is one of the best.”

  Mother blushed. Danny wanted to scream. This man was not the man they believed him to be. But it was futile. They would never forgive the insult to their guest. Even if they believed him, the Director would just work his magic again, this time on all of them, including Danny. He was trapped into sitting through this dinner, regardless of how much he wanted to flee.

  Father offered the Director a drink. He asked for a single malt Scotch on the rocks. Father found Danny’s eyes and let him know that he was the evening’s bartender.

  Danny walked to the liquor cabinet, selected a glass and putting two large cubes of ice inside from the bucket. He wished he had some hidden packet of a drug in his pocket, like in the movies, as he splashed the rocks with Father’s best Scotch.

  He turned and handed the glass to Kane.

  “Danny, your mother will have her usual and I’ll have a martini. You may have a cola, if you like.”

  Danny grumbled to himself. Punishment included a dry dinner. So be it. He mixed Mother’s cosmo, then Father’s martini. Maria took the drinks from him to serve to his parents. He poured himself a soda over ice and steeled himself for dinner.

  Director Kane sat and looked Danny’s way. “Your father has been in touch, and I’ve been following the details of your recent situat
ion. How are you recovering from your ordeal?”

  Father glared from the corner of his eye. Danny needed to step carefully. Director Kane was up to something. He wasn’t sure what, but the question was curious, since he had to know Danny was a willing participant.

  “It was an eye-opening experience. I learned a lot about myself and those around me.”

  Kane smiled. Yes, he knew all about the circumstances involved in Danny’s release and what had really happened. He needed to think on his feet here. The Director was fishing for sure.

  Danny was ready for more verbal sparring but the conversation turned to talk of the Temperance movement and the passage of Resolution 85 instead. His parents laughed at the meager protests from a few who Kane called “chanter dissidents.” Danny kept his thoughts to himself, hoping that Winnie hadn’t been arrested in the protests. He was curious as to why no more than a few dozen were protesting. The latest requirements were surely a precursor to something worse. That was how his parents thought: they wanted all chanters — men, women, and children — locked up, regardless of whether they’d broken the law.

  Dinner was over soon enough and Father excused Danny to his room, telling the Director that he was “always so tired since his ordeal at the hands of the chanters.”

  Danny went back upstairs and sat on the end of his bed. He should have said something. He should have stood up for his friends, but he hadn’t, and now the shame was draped over him like a blanket.

  He sat, brooding, until a deep rumble of voices from the corner drew his attention.

  He looked toward the sound, remembering that he could hear people talking in Father’s study, just below his bedroom, through vents in his floor. Kane and his parents must be having after dinner drinks in there following the meal. A part of him was disgusted with having to hear more of their hatred and lies about the chanters he’d come to know in recent months. Another part wondered why the Director had come here.