by Kyle Prue
Rhys nodded slowly. “I experienced something unusual with an arms dealer about an hour ago. He said he couldn’t talk to anyone in my family without jeopardizing some mission.”
Neil furrowed his brow. “But you’re dressed like a Taurlum.”
Rhys’s hand flew to his mask as if he’d forgotten. “You’re right.”
“So whatever’s going on with the arms dealer, it affects the Taurlum, too,” Neil mused.
Rhys pursed his lips. “Do you think the Celerius are behind it?”
“Maybe,” Neil said. “There’s a Celerius at the very top of the military. Where’s your arms dealer friend? I’m dressed as a Celerius, maybe he’ll talk to me.”
Rhys shook his head noting, “You don’t look like a Celerius at all. You have a blue mask, but look at the rest of your clothes. You’re in black and purple. You look just like a Vapros.”
Neil said angrily, “Damn. You’re right. You’re always right.”
Rhys shrugged. The brothers sat in silence for a few minutes. “How’d things go with the girls?” Rhys asked.
“How’d you know about the girls?”
“You’re Neil Vapros. There are always girls where you’re concerned.”
Neil smiled to himself. “Yeah, I talked to a few at the bar. All I learned was that Michael Taurlum is as bad as ever. I wish we had a Celerius coat,” he said, catching sight of a soldier.
“Neil Vapros,” a voice said from just behind them. Rhys turned quickly. Neil didn’t bother. He knew that voice almost as well as he knew his own. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Bianca,” he said, still not turning around.
“What, you’re not even going to look at me?” He could almost hear her pouting. “I even put on a dress and everything.” Neil let himself smile as he turned around. She swept a low curtsy. “How are you this fine evening, Mr. Vapros?” she asked, eyes twinkling. But Neil wasn’t looking at her eyes.
Neil raised one eyebrow and Bianca saw his mouth twitch as he stared at her dress. Bianca stood in a noticeably extravagant dress, a voluminous ball gown that hugged her torso and then practically exploded into an avalanche of blue ruffles and lace. Neil guessed that she was trying hard to fit in, but the dress was too much, too extravagant for a party like this. She had an expensive-looking pearl necklace and matching pearl earrings. She had pulled her hair up into a twist and little blond strands escaped and hung endearingly along the sides of her face.
Neil pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and leaned over and wiped it across the edge of Bianca’s forehead, where a smudge of ash had been overlooked. Bianca’s eyes grew wide in surprise.
“What is this?” he asked as he looked at the handkerchief.
“Soot,” she replied calmly.
“Why is there soot on your forehead?”
“Burned down a gang member’s house,” she said as she grabbed a glass of champagne from the table.
“That’s hilarious,” he chuckled.
“It wasn’t a joke.”
“And may I ask where you got the dress?”
“This rich-looking girl and I traded clothes.”
“Did she want to?” Rhys asked.
“I don’t have to answer that,” Bianca said with a grin.
“We’ll address your crime spree later. But speaking of your dress,” Neil said slowly. Rhys gasped and nodded.
“What about it?” Bianca tugged at the sleeves a little.
Neil grinned. “It’s blue.”
CHAPTER TEN
VAPROS OPERA HOUSE
DARIUS TAURLUM
Darius Taurlum gained access to the Opera House through the stage door. It was locked from the outside, but he’d pulled it straight out of the wall and walked in hurriedly before anyone noticed. There were probably better, less conspicuous ways of infiltrating, but visions of his impending revenge on the Vapros brat were clouding his thought process.
The backstage area was a maze of tiny hallways crowded with actors, stagehands, and set pieces. Nobody seemed to notice or care that he was there; they all just stepped around him without making eye contact. Looking around, Darius tried to assess the best way to cause chaos during the show. He could smash through the set with his hammer. Or, if he could find a match, he could set the curtain on fire.
A small man in a purple coat grabbed Darius by the arm and began to yank him toward the stage. Darius glared at him. “Your cue is coming up,” he said in hushed tones. “Is that a new costume? It looks great.”
“You want me to go onstage?” Darius asked, a new plan forming slowly in his mind.
“What do you think we’ve been rehearsing for? Of course I want you to go onstage! And don’t miss your entrance! This isn’t amateur hour.”
Darius grinned. “Which side of the stage do I enter from again?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VAPROS OPERA HOUSE
JENNIFER VAPROS
Jennifer Vapros walked toward the Opera House arm in arm with her twin sister. “Any plans to meet up with you-know-who tonight?” she asked playfully as an usher wearing purple opened the front doors for them.
Victoria blushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please, Vic,” Jennifer said, letting go of her sister to tighten her ponytail.
“Don’t tell Dad,” Victoria begged.
“Don’t meet up with that boy, and I won’t have to,” her sister fired back. “You have a duty.” She started for the grand staircase. Victoria began to follow, but Jennifer stopped her. “I’m going to the second floor. You stay here. We’ll meet up at the end of the night.”
When Jennifer reached the top of the stairs, she scanned the halls for someone worth talking to. A cluster of giggling girls in large dresses walked by, but Jennifer ignored them. Their brand of gossip wasn’t worth the effort. She leisurely approached the nearest balcony and peered out to watch how the opera was proceeding. She remembered that this was her father's latest project: The Birth of the Saviors. Her father had overseen its conception over the last few months and had been anxious about how it would go over with the nobles. They never had a problem with lampooning the Taurlum, but this show had a heavier message; it was all about the legend surrounding the manner in which the families received their powers and the beginning of the feud.
From what she could see, they were still very close to the beginning of the story. Four actors stood on the stage: one dressed as a Vapros, one as a Taurlum, one as a Celerius, and one in all black clothing. The lack of design that went into the fourth family was due to the fact that no one actually knew anything about the fourth family. Suddenly a horde of actors in furred clothing stormed the stage; these were the savages. They looked ready to attack the family members, but suddenly the dark and ominous music of battle slowed to a soft and pleasing melody. From the ceiling, a man covered with crystals was lowered by a few discreet wires. A light focused on him and he began to glow, shooting rays of light in every direction. He sang a few verses of blessing. She couldn’t quite understand every word, but she got the gist: “Protect Altryon with the gifts I have given you.”
This was the Man with the Golden Light. According to the legend, he had given the families their powers so that they could protect Altryon from the savages. The man ascended again into the rafters and the music returned to its rousing battle theme. A complicated fight scene erupted on stage and when finished, the savages and the family member in black lay dead on the ground. Jennifer turned away in disinterest. She knew everything that was about to happen. She spied a group of rich merchants by the window and allowed herself a slight smile. Perfect.
Jennifer moved like a well-oiled machine. Every action was deliberate and smooth, from complicated fight sequences to simple banter. She was, as her father often reminded Neil, a model assassin. She made a beeline for the merchants, her chest held high and a slight sway in her hips. “Not enjoying the opera, I assume?” she said when they noticed her coming.
One of the
merchants nudged his neighbor. “It’s a bit trite,” he spoke up. “All of the enemy Taurlum’ stuff, I mean. We’ve seen it all before.”
“And it’s . . . well, it’s an opera,” the merchant to her right admitted. The others laughed.
Jennifer leaned against the wall, arms folded. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “I prefer more . . . exciting pastimes.” She unfolded her arms and examined her fingernails. “What would you be doing right now if you weren’t here?” she asked idly. She could feel their eyes on her. “I know I’d be out on the town, maybe in a bar somewhere or at a party dancing with a handsome stranger.” She knew exactly what to say to make them sweat.
“Yeah, a party sounds good,” one of the merchants said quickly. “I know there’s a masquerade tonight. If you want to get out of here, I can escort you there.”
Jennifer smiled coyly. “Now, now, we hardly know each other,” she chided. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Neither would dancing with a stranger,” he pointed out. Jennifer met his eyes for the first time.
“Touché,” she said finally. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
He bowed. “Clemens.”
“Clemens,” she repeated. “It’s a pleasure.”
“I know who you are,” a new merchant said before she could introduce herself. “Jennifer Vapros.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “My reputation precedes me, I see.”
Clemens whistled. “So it is you,” he said. “I thought it might be, but I wasn’t sure.” He looked her up and down. “I guess the rumors are true.”
She narrowed her eyes but kept her cool facade. “Oh? And what rumors have you heard about me?”
The merchant countered, “Just that you’re the most beautiful girl in Altryon.”
Jennifer smirked and felt herself relax. “That honor belongs to my sister, actually.”
“Aren’t you identical twins?” asked a random merchant. Jennifer ignored him.
“I’m serious.” Clemens said as he gave her a small smile. “They say every man who sees you falls in love.”
“I’ve heard more,” the first merchant jumped in. “I’ve heard she’s an assassin.”
Jennifer whipped her head around to stare at him. “Me?” she said. “An assassin? I’m just a young girl.”
“That’s right. They say men let their guard down around you. You draw them in, trick them into trusting you, and then kill them. They don’t even see it coming.”
One of the merchants nudged Clemens. “Be careful, Clem,” he joked, “you could be next!”
Jennifer’s hand twitched for her knife. Her pulse was quickening. “Not all rumors are true,” she said finally. Hold it together, Jen.
“She’s not an assassin,” Clemens said sternly to his companion. “Leave her alone.” He took half a step toward her. “So, how about that party?” He offered her his arm.
Jennifer let out a laugh. “With you? I’m flattered, but what would your wife think?”
Clemens looked shocked. The other merchants exchanged glances. “How did you know?” he trailed off.
“Your reputation precedes you as well, merchant,” Jen said coldly. She knew she was destroying any chance of getting information out of these men, but she didn’t care. This wasn’t fun anymore. “I know all of you: Brock, Marques, Edgar.” She glared at each one of them as she rattled off their names. “I’m a Vapros. We thrive on knowing everything about everyone.”
The merchants looked like they wished they were somewhere else.
Jennifer planted her feet on the ground. “I suggest you all find your way back to your seats and watch the rest of the opera,” she said in a low, menacing voice. “Unless you want your darkest secrets spilled over the streets of Altryon.” The men, looking terrified, scurried down the hallway.
Jennifer kept a threatening look on her face until they were out of sight, and then leaned against the bar. She took deep breaths until her heart returned to its normal pace. She once again approached the balcony and saw that they were reaching an even more exciting part of the opera. Apparently, the three families had already fallen to infighting. After the families had received their special powers, Altryon had experienced unprecedented prosperity and peace. But as new children were born and their powers advanced, they began to compete over whose powers were better and who was more powerful. Until one day when everything changed and the feud was born. She was always told that the head Taurlum had killed a Vapros child and this started the feud. This was no doubt the message this evening; although she knew the other families disagreed. Soon more Taurlum would arrive on stage and there would be another fight. Jennifer doubted her father would cover the rest of the story—how the feud had made it impossible for the families to rule, as they couldn’t pass badly needed laws. How the people had eventually gone on a citywide strike, crippling the economy until the families relinquished power and an emperor was anointed instead. No doubt her father would focus on the Taurlum and their crimes against the Vapros. He’d always loved to say, “The Taurlum drew first blood, but the Vapros will draw last.”
Jennifer turned away. She had never been too interested in operas and this one was no different. No longer in the mood to talk to people she didn’t know, she darted downstairs to find her sister.
Jennifer quickly found Victoria who was of course with the boy Sir Vapros had warned her about. Jennifer gritted her teeth and watched from afar. Operas might be boring, but Victoria never seemed to care where her father sent her to socialize. Her love always seemed to find her by the end of the night. Even now he was saying something that brought a blush to her cheek. She was shyly grinning back, and playing with a strand of hair. Jennifer gritted her teeth. Victoria was being stupid. Why let some boy turn you into a blushing baby?
Robert wasn’t of noble birth. Victoria didn’t seem to care in the slightest. She was inching closer to him ever so slightly second after second. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle. Jennifer slid behind a nearby corner where she could watch without been seen and still listen to their conversation.
Victoria suppressed a smile. “How do you always know where I’m going to be?”
“I guess,” Robert said, eyes dancing.
“Do you?” she asked breathlessly. “Well. You’re quite good at guessing.”
His face melted into the grin and he started to say something, but a collective gasp from the people in the theater interrupted his train of thought. “Sounds like we’re missing something important,” he said, furrowing his brow in mock worry.
Victoria played along. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard this scene is visually outstanding,” she said in the snootiest voice she could manage. “It’s a shame we aren’t in there watching.”
Robert was looking at her mouth. “I don’t mind, actually,” he murmured. “I’m watching something else visually outstanding.”
She giggled at that line, and began to lean forward. Jennifer stepped out from around the corner and grabbed Victoria’s arm. “Forgotten where you are?” Jennifer asked.
Victoria jumped away from Robert, cheeks burning. “What …” she began.
Robert blushed heavily. “You look lovely tonight, Jennifer.”
She glared at him and then back at her sister. “How many times have you been told not to socialize with people like him? This can only end one way, Victoria.”
Victoria looked like she was going to cry. “I’m not you, Jen.”
“Excuse me?” Jennifer asked.
Before she could unleash her wrath a scream tore through the hall. Victoria and Jennifer shared a wary glance. Robert had already started into one of the boxes that overlooked the stage. The twins didn’t hesitate to follow. The scene below them consisted of several actors dressed as Taurlum. One of the actors was taller. He held a comically oversized hammer like the rest, but as he raised it over his head, Jennifer realized it wasn’t a prop. Victoria grabbed Robert’s hand “We have to tell someone,” she hissed. “That’s a real Taurlum! We h
ave to—”
She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before chaos erupted on the stage.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MASQUERADE BALL
NEIL VAPROS
The masquerade ball was in full swing. The noise level was increasing as the drinks flowed and patrons spoke louder to be heard above the band. Neil and Bianca crossed the ball slowly. They had “borrowed” a large blue hat and Neil was tucking her last remaining strands of hair into it. She was actually starting to look like a Celerius. Hopefully, the arms dealer wouldn’t notice that her eyes were grey instead of deep brown. “All you need to do is gauge his reaction to seeing you. Act polite. And straighten your spine. The Celerius don’t slouch.”
Neil had a customary way of behaving with women. He usually flashed his charming smile and his voice dropped to a deeper pitch; he leaned in when he talked and played it as cool as he could. But when he talked to Bianca it was different; it was almost as if they were dancing. Information flowed back and forth easily in a rhythm that had been established over years of communication and friendship.
Neil returned to Rhys’s side and they watched from afar as Bianca approached the arms dealer. “I’m confused,” Rhys said.
Neil reached for a drink from the table behind them. “It’s simple. Bianca is wearing blue. The Celerius family wears blue. The arms dealer will think she’s a Celerius and spill the secrets. You’re a smart kid. How do you not understand this plan?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Rhys said indignantly. “I meant I don’t understand you two.”
“Us two?
“Yes. What is your relationship to her?”
Neil took a long gulp of his drink. “Friends,” he said finally. “Just friends.” Rhys stared at him skeptically. “You don’t look like you believe me,” Neil said, thoughtfully watching Bianca across the room.
“It’s just …” Rhys paused, “none of my friends have ever toppled titans for me.”