by Kyle Prue
“What’s wrong?” Neil asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just wondering how many guards are on the other side.”
“Probably none,” Neil said. “He had a sentry. He has no reason to expect an attack, except for the obvious reason.”
“Right.” Jennifer still looked troubled, but she pushed past Neil to throw open the doors.
As Neil predicted, there were no guards in Quintus’s bedchamber. The emperor’s advisor sat up when the doors opened, then stumbled out of bed in his nightgown and tried to flee. “Quintus!” Neil cried jubilantly, “It’s been too long!”
“Guards!” he shrieked as he frantically searched for an exit. He apparently had no trouble recognizing them, even though they’d abandoned their typical Vapros clothing.
Jennifer was across the room in an instant. Quintus desperately flailed out at her, but she dodged his attack and clasped her hand around his throat. He started to struggle but instantly stopped when he felt the intense heat coming. “Your guards can’t hear you,” she cooed as he fell to his knees. Her grip remained strong. A shadow of the old bloodthirstiness crept into her eyes.
“What do you want?” Quintus sputtered as he tried to avoid being burned alive.
Neil walked to Quintus’s bedside table and selected a bottle of wine from his vast array of bottles. “You know,” Neil said, “the night right before my family was imprisoned, we were spreading rumors about you, Quintus. We told everyone you were an alcoholic. I thought it was just a rumor, but look at this. You have an entire cellar right next to your bed.” Neil’s ease was all an act, but it was necessary. Interrogation relied on a show of power.
Quintus stared at Neil in confusion. Neil lowered the hood of his cloak and waited as recognition finally dawned. “You’re the Vapros kids that escaped.”
“And people say you’re slow witted,” Neil said in mock disbelief.
Quintus growled and attempted to shift his position, but Jennifer held him in an iron grip. Letting your brother make all the speeches?” he spat.
She smiled and her hands grew a little hotter. “I don’t mind. I like my current job well enough.”
Quintus glared at Neil and spoke as slowly as he could. “Why are you here Vapros? To kill me? For what? All I am is an employee of the emperor. I had nothing to do with the capture of your family.”
Neil dropped the wine bottle. It shattered as it hit the floor. Wine splashed onto one of Quintus’s extravagant rugs. Quintus winced. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, my friend,” Neil said as he took a step closer to him. “In recent months, I’ve learned a lot about you. Mostly because a lot of fingers seemed to be pointing clearly at you when we asked who planned the attacks.”
“Why don’t you get your sister off me so we can converse like gentlemen?” Quintus groaned as a portion of his neck became visibly discolored.
Jennifer glanced at Neil who nodded. She dropped Quintus, who fell to the ground, panting. “Fine, let’s talk,” Neil said, his theatrical voice fading away and turning to one of anger. “I want answers, and you’re going to give them to me. Otherwise, Jennifer will melt your throat and you’ll choke on the flesh.”
Quintus patted his ginger curls into his usual hairstyle. “What do you want to know?” he asked, clearly attempting to maintain a bit of dignity.
“I know one thing for sure: the emperor didn’t imprison us because we’re a threat to the people. He did it for some sort of personal gain. That’s why he took over our businesses and our money.”
“Well ….” Quintus’s eyes narrowed as he spoke and a bead of sweat dripped down his face. “As you probably know, based on our pasts, I’m not exactly pro-family. Neither is the emperor. He’s wanted you out from the moment he took the throne. But who is he to change two centuries of tradition? He had to let you live. He had no choice.
“But then he found that new servant, Saewulf, and the two of them started speaking about the issue behind closed doors. It was like he started to actually consider wiping out the families. He made plans, discussed tactics . . . I, of course, was against all of it.”
“The truth, Quintus,” Neil snarled as he pulled his knife from its sheath.
Quintus sighed. “I wasn’t against it, but I knew it would be difficult. You all owned so many businesses, and Anthony Celerius was leading the military. You had too much power. People actually liked you, despite your childish fighting. We needed a way around all that. The general was easy to dispose of, but the business part was a trickier challenge. We couldn’t just overtake businesses without knowledge of how they worked. It would cause an economic disaster.”
Jennifer’s eyes were narrowed. “So you decided to study up on us.”
Quintus gulped. “We made plans to steal documents, study how your assets operated. That was my contribution. It was supposed to be a gradual takeover. Then the Captain of the Guard was killed and the emperor snapped. He felt the manslaughter was an act of defiance. He wanted to speed things up.”
“So you put your little plan into action?” Neil asked.
“We had already planned to get rid of the general. Now we had a reason to go after the families. We had a reason that the people could understand, anyway. So Carlin killed the general and I collected the documents. Then Sir Celerius tried to kill the emperor, which was when we decided to act that night.”
Neil stared at Quintus. “That was a lengthy explanation,” he said warily, “but I’m not sure I believe all this. What did we ever do to the emperor? Where did all this hatred come from?”
Quintus started to snicker, but stopped when nobody else joined in. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? He lost his father to a Taurlum. That’s not something you ever forget. If you saw your father shot with a gun, every gun you saw would bring up an unpleasant memory, right? His father was murdered by a super-human show of force. It’s not exactly a mystery as to why he wants your kind gone, is it?”
For once, Neil allowed his icy expression to melt as he glanced at Jennifer. Having an enemy who wanted something from you was one thing, but having an enemy who despised your entire being was something completely different.
The doors burst open, and for a split second Neil thought another guard had discovered them. Then he recognized his brother. He ushered in about a dozen men from the hallway. Each man was armed to the teeth and bore helmets designed to look like snakeheads.
Neil smiled. Good old Rhys. “You’re familiar with the Brotherhood of the Slums, aren’t you, Quintus? I believe you hired them to raid the Celerius Estate, right?” he asked cheerfully. Quintus didn’t move, but Neil continued anyway. “Yes, these men are crooks and mercenaries, but tonight we have hired them to help us carry off your valuables.” He swept a bow. “Thank you for your donation to the cause.”
Quintus opened and closed his mouth rapidly. “Please,” he said finally. “Please don’t kill me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
Neil laughed. “Kill you? No. We aren’t barbarians. We’ve spread rumors about you, robbed you, dealt with your guard out in the hallway, and told everyone you’re unfaithful to your wife, but we would never kill you. By the way, I’ve noticed you’re sleeping alone. I hope we can take credit for that. From experience, we know there are fates worse than death.” He saw a shadow pass over Jennifer’s face. “We just want your money to finance our revolution and to feed the people starving in the streets because of your laws. But don’t feel too bad for the poor people, Quintus. Soon you’ll be one of them.”
Quintus stared at him in shock throughout the entire speech. “You’re not going to kill me?” he stammered.
“No. Just leave you penniless.”
“Don’t, don’t do this to me,” Quintus said, but he looked relieved.
“You did this to yourself,” Neil said carelessly. “Goodnight, Quintus.” Jennifer let go of his arms and planted her foot in his back. She kicked, sending him sprawling across his bed. He didn’t get up. The Vapros children, flanked by the Brotherhood, left Quintus’s ro
om and shut the door behind them.
“Did you get the treasure?” Neil asked Rhys as they marched back to their open window.
Rhys nodded. “It fills three carts.”
“Did you run into any trouble?”
“Ten guards who are all asleep downstairs.”
Neil smiled. “Good work.”
“What now?” Jennifer had caught up to her brothers.
“We have to pay the Brotherhood, of course,” Neil said. One of the Brothers grunted. “We promised them half. And then we have to take the rest of the money to the safe house.”
“Anything else?” she asked.
“No.” He looked at her. “Why? Did you have something in mind?”
The old glint was back in her eye. “I want to give this house a proper send-off.”
“A send-off?”
She held up her hands. They were glowing red.
“We can’t,” Neil told her, sighing. “Quintus is still inside. We need him to take news of our raid back to the emperor. It’s our only hope that our family will hear the gossip and know we are trying to save them.”
“We’ll get him out,” she said. “He’s unconscious anyway. I kicked him pretty hard.” She looked at her brother. “Let me do this, Neil, for our sister.”
Neil pushed his hand through his hair. “Fine.” He looked around and picked the smallest Brother. “Take Quintus outside,” he instructed, “and leave him across the street.” The man grunted and turned back toward the marble doors. “The rest of you, get out of here.” When the hallway was deserted, he signaled to Jennifer. “Go.”
Grinning, she seized a curtain in both hands. It ignited immediately. She materialized down the hall a few feet and grabbed a tapestry, and then ran her hand along a long velvet couch. She stooped to touch a carpet. The entire hallway was in flames. Neil materialized out through the window, expecting Jennifer to follow, but it was several minutes before she finally appeared. “Where were you?” he asked. Smoke billowed through the open window.
She grinned and pulled him a few yards down the street, away from the heat of the building. “I had to hit every floor.” She tightened her ponytail. “Why, were you worried about me, little brother?” she teased.
Rhys came around to meet them before he had time to answer. Two Brothers trailed behind him, dragging carts full of rubies and gold. “Got the money,” he said. “We divided it all up already. I can’t believe you burned down his house.”
Neil reached into one of the carts and pulled out two gold rings. He handed one to each of the Brothers. “For your trouble.”
The Brothers exchanged glances and grinned within their helmets. “Pleasure doing business with you,” one of them said, pocketing the ring.
Neil bowed. “The pleasure was all ours.” The mercenaries disappeared into the night.
“Now what?” Rhys asked, eyes locked on the carts.
“For one thing we should get out of the street,” Neil said.
His siblings agreed. Being out in the open was incredibly dangerous at any time of day, especially with the entire Imperial army searching for them. Even in disguise, they’d had several close calls and they were jumpy whenever they had to leave their hideout. Living in constant fear had taken a toll on all of them, even more than the weight loss from never having enough to eat. At least with Quintus’ gold, the constant hunger would be over.
“You two go home,” Neil answered. “I’m going out.”
“Out?” Jennifer had already started dragging a cart down the road. “Out where?”
“Socializing,” Neil said as he grabbed a sack of coins and walked away. “I’m going to make us some new friends.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE POWDER BARREL PUB
NEIL VAPROS
Neil walked into the bar feeling nervous. He had never been in a bar outside the nightlife district, much less a bar in the middle of the markets. The markets weren’t Taurlum territory anymore—the emperor had taken over everything in the aftermath of the attacks—but it still made him uneasy to walk through these streets. He always had a faint suspicion that Darius Taurlum was waiting around the corner, hammer raised, ready to pummel him. But Darius was long gone. All the Taurlum were.
Neil poked his head inside the bar and looked around for Imperial soldiers. In the old days, finding a soldier in a bar was lucky, but now it was a death sentence. He relaxed slightly but he didn’t lower his guard completely. Even in disguise, he feared he might be recognized. When he didn’t find any guards, Neil sauntered up to the bartender. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a few gold coins he’d snagged from the carts at Quintus’s house. “I’d like to buy a round,” he said, dropping the money on the table.
The bartender raised his eyebrows. “For whom?” he inquired.
Neil smiled wistfully. He missed the days when bartenders knew exactly what he meant when he put money on their counters. “For everyone.”
The bartender slid the money off the table and into a pocket of his apron. “Everyone!” he called out. “Next round is on this guy!”
Total silence, and then a disbelieving cheer from the patrons greeted his announcement. This clearly wasn’t the norm around here. Neil ducked away from the counter as the customers rushed toward it and went to sit in the back and eavesdrop. He didn’t take a drink himself. He needed a clear head tonight.
A large bearded man was having a heated discussion with his table. Neil caught the word “emperor” and shifted a little closer.
“… Never been worse!” the bearded man was saying. “I haven’t had a job in months. My children go to bed hungry. This nation used to be great! The emperor ruined us.” He took a long swig of brandy and raged on. “If it weren’t for that stranger, I wouldn’t even have been able to afford a drink tonight.”
A smaller man said. “This kind of thing used to be common,” he reminisced. “Remember the old days? Go to the nightlife district, wait around for one of the you-know-who to come buy a round of beer and then head off to the opera?”
Another man gestured knowingly. “I was there the night Darius Taurlum stormed the Opera House. I wish I’d known it was the beginning of the end. I might’ve stayed a little longer.” His companions laughed.
“The families were generous,” the bearded man said. “They made sure we had jobs. They were generous to people. Not so much to each other, but to us, they were kind.”
Neil decided this was the best opportunity for him to join the conversation. “The families were kind,” he said, pulling up a chair. “I remember those times well. They cared. Not like the emperor. He’s supposed to be a leader. He’s supposed to protect us, but he doesn’t give a damn. We should do something about it.”
The bearded man looked skeptical and glanced around the bar for soldiers. “Since you bought me a drink, I’ll humor you. What do you suggest we do?”
Neil smiled. This was his favorite part. “The emperor decimated the families and told you all it was for the good of the people. Do any of you feel better off? People are starving in the streets. The emperor has failed us, and a man who fails his people doesn’t deserve to keep his position.” People at other tables were listening now, leaning in as inconspicuously as they could. But it wasn’t enough. Neil stood on his chair and began to speak loudly. “The emperor doesn’t deserve to reign!” he cried. “He deserves to lose his head. I suggest revolution!”
The bar fell silent. “You can’t say things like that,” the smallest man whispered from the back of the bar.
“I do not fear him,” Neil lied with a cocky smile. Nobody scared him like the emperor.
“Those are big words,” the bearded man said finally. “Who’s going to start this revolution? You?”
Neil rubbed his hand through his hair. “You still don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Enlighten us,” the bartender spoke up.
“Look at my hair,” Neil said patiently, dropping the cloak to reveal his dark hair, which had grown l
ong and unkempt, but still was the dangerous telltale Vapros color. “Look at my eyes.” He felt everyone in the bar studying him. People began to gasp. “Need another hint? I bought you a round. Who does that sound like, I wonder? This cannot be this hard for you.”
The bearded man’s eyes grew wide. “My God,” he breathed. “We could be beheaded for talking with you, Raven.”
He whispered the Vapros nickname as quietly as he could. Neil smiled and extended his arms. “Yet, here you are.”
“Which one are you?” asked the small man from the back.
“Neil.”
The bartender pointed to a sign tacked to his wall. “According to my wall, you’re one of six remaining Lightborns.”
“There are only three Vapros left,” Neil confirmed. “We can’t win this war alone. We need help.”
A woman at a nearby table asked, “How did you escape?”
“We heard them coming and ran,” Neil said. “We left behind our family. Some of them died that night. Some of them are in the emperor’s dungeon. We will do anything to get the remaining ones back.”
“So you don’t care about us,” the bearded man declared. “You just want your family back.”
Neil took a breath. He’d been prepared for this. “I’ve spent the last two months on the streets. I have been hungry and scared and homeless. I have gone to sleep wondering if I will survive to see the sunrise. Nobody should live like that. I love my family,” he emphasized, “and I want them to be free, but I want all of you to be able to eat first.”
“Why shouldn’t we just turn you in and get the reward?” the bearded man asked.
“Two reasons,” Neil said holding up two fingers. “ First, I’m a Vapros. Good luck with that.” Several people chuckled and Neil continued, “Second, that might help you, but what about your neighbors? Don’t you care about the future of Altryon? Putting me in jail isn’t going to change the emperor’s oppressive policies. In fact, you will be worse off. If you are going to fight the emperor, you need every Lightborn you can get.”
That seemed to do the trick. Neil could see the fire of inspiration in every pair of eyes in the pub. “I’m not saying I’m interested,” said the bearded man, “but if I were willing to join you, how would I begin?”