"Smart girl. Come on—since it's Friday, we’ll return to Hemmington through the weekend. I’ll return you to your friends on Sunday night." He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling oddly protective of her. She was frail, timid, and hurting... only time would tell if she had that inner fire that Gia managed to draw upon to survive Arias' rough handling.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Their adrenaline still high from the close call, it took the three friends quite some time to settle back into the house. They did a thorough check of all security measures, added a few, and agreed between them that they would stay in the house until they absolutely had to leave. No trips to the Village, no sparring matches on the back lawn—not even coffee on the porch, which was a shame as the season changed into spring and the weather grew even lovelier.
Three weeks after they left Conleth, they finally began to relax. They’d seen no sign of Sam or anyone from Caer Anglia, and it was a relief to be able to breathe again.
They took turns down in the basement, exercising and running through their paces, though the downstairs space was too small for sparring. During one of Gia’s training times, Nolan took advantage of her absence to ask Pyrrhus something that had been weighing on his mind more and more in recent days.
"Pyrrhus?"
"Yes, Nolan?"
"How do numen get married?"
Pyrrhus closed his magazine and peered at Nolan. He was trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably.
"Well," he drawled, "some get married in churches, and some get married by justices of the peace, just like humans do. In fact, if you want your marriage to count in the 'real' world, you'll have to do one of those."
"Okay..." Nolan toyed with his medallion. "What about as far as our laws go, though? What makes a numen marriage?"
"Well, for members of the Nine, it's usually a declaration of intent to the gods with a numen witness, followed by a—consummation."
"Consummation! That's a little old fashioned, isn't it?"
"Incredibly—that's the point. It's tradition."
"What if a couple had—consummated —already?"
Pyrrhus dropped the magazine abruptly and abandoned the pretence of the hypothetical. "Have you?"
"No! I was just wondering! And who said we were talking about me?"
"I say we're talking about you. You're sure?"
Nolan snorted. "Pretty sure I'd remember that."
Pyrrhus grinned at his own expense. "True. Sorry. It's just—you know, Gia and I have gotten very close since the Rite of Passage."
“Yes, I heard.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, your father was very forthcoming about the expectation that there would be an announcement of some sort in the New Year.”
Pyrrhus groaned and flopped back in the chair. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said to Nolan’s raised eyebrows. “It was all misdirection. She's like the sister I never had.”
“Apparently you did so very well. Everyone was convinced there was an Ignis-Zephyra wedding coming.”
“Oh, leave him alone,” Gia said, coming in the room to hear this very last. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck with a towel and stopped to give Pyrrhus a pointed look. “Besides, I think Bentley would be very put off if he thought he had competition in me.”
Nolan frowned, looking back and forth between a smirking Gia and an ever-reddening Pyrrhus.
“Who’s Bentley?”
“He’s Sensei’s nephew… and he and Pyrrhus looked awful cozy the last time we met, didn’t you?” Gia teased Pyrrhus mercilessly, enjoying his absolute discomfort.
The switch flipped on in his brain, and he suddenly understood the allusions running through the conversation.
“You son of a bitch…” he said slowly. Pyrrhus began to hunch his shoulders, looking incredibly uncomfortable.
“Listen, Nolan, I…”
“After you made that bet with me teach-year about women? When will I learn?”
A slow smile began to spread across Pyrrhus’s face. “Never, I hope,” he said with something resembling his habitual snark.
Gia threw the towel at Pyrrhus’s head, and he dodged just in time with a curse. “That’s disgusting,” he whined.
“Your turn downstairs. Try not to burn the house down.”
Nolan stifled a grin. The last time Pyrrhus had used the basement, he’d lit one of the support beams on fire… by mistake, of course.
“No promises,” he said as he left the room, scooping up and tossing Gia’s towel into Nolan’s face with unerring accuracy, leaving him to sputter and shout as Gia doubled over with laughter.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
True to his word, Alan had returned the morning after his… discussion… with Manas. He hadn’t referenced the night before at all, only sat down with sleeves rolled up and asked to see the evidence Manas had compiled so far.
Now, almost a month later, they still had nothing. A month of patrols and interviews and even more questionable methods had turned up nothing.
“There’s no real connection here, Manas,” Alan said finally, tossing down the last of their notes. “No reason for a student to take up his cause so completely, even in the face of sanctions. Unless…”
Manas caught the change in tone and looked up. “What?”
“What if it isn’t a student?”
“It can’t be Aeron or any of his compatriots! The building has been in total lock down since the death of your uncle—no one in or out without my permission.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Alan began to scramble through piles of notebooks, searching for a particular set. “Here!” He flipped the book open to the correct page and dropped it in front of Manas. Below, in Manas’ slanted writing, was a list of all the teachers in Caer Anglia.
“A teacher?” Manas leapt to his feet. “Let’s have Selocrim arrest and question them all. I’m sure she can get any answers we need from them if given enough time.”
“No. We need to know how deep it goes. Let’s watch them all and see if they make a mistake.”
“I’m not sure we have time for something that slow and involved. I think… We need to take it a step further. We should speak to my father.”
***
Sam blinked, fighting off the weariness that threatened to put him to sleep. He readjusted his position, watching over the path he had described to the woman on the phone almost a month prior.
Sudden movement to his right made him whip his head around, wide-awake. “At last,” he breathed, and jumped from his perch to scurry after the group of commandos.
Lieutenant Charles Lamesa froze as he heard the crunch of footsteps behind them. “Hold,” he said, raising a clenched fist in the air. His company stopped, but the footsteps kept coming.
“It’s Sam,” one of the rear guards said as the man got close enough to identify.
“He’s the one who called the tip in, I think,” another volunteered in a whisper.
Sam pushed right through the group to Lamesa.
“Where’s Captain Selocrim?” he demanded, slightly out of breath from chasing them.
Lamesa raised an eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too. The Captain is needed at Caer Anglia. We have been sent to…deal with this.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” Sam began to walk forward, realizing after a few paces that they weren’t following. “What are you waiting for? I can’t believe it took you this long to get out here! Nolan Aeron is just over that ridge, and we are wasting time.”
The team looked to Lamesa, who sighed. Rather than explain the intricacies of the tip line, the number of leads they’d been sent to chase down, or just how unimportant this man was in the grand scheme of things, he simply shrugged and motioned for them to move on into the woods.
Sam walked right next to Lamesa, hissing instructions as they navigated the dark and snarled forest.
“This can’t be right,” one of the numen complained behind him. “There
’s no way they’d be hiding out so close.”
“Please feel free to go back to your Captain and tell her that,” Sam said without turning around. “From what I remember of her, I’m sure she’ll take that well.”
The man grumbled under his breath, but otherwise kept any other opinions to himself.
The dense underbrush began to thin out, and suddenly they were there. A small house stood before them, the side nestled against a rocky outcropping. Painted that weathered shade of blue so popular in New England, it blended in with the moonlit forest almost perfectly. Not a light was on, but Sam was spooked. He was sure the boy knew they were coming, somehow.
“Listen—“ Lieutenant Lamesa started.
“No, you listen!” Sam hissed back. “Set that house on fire and do it quick, before they wake up. I want them all dead.”
Lamesa blinked at the savagery in Sam’s voice, but couldn’t really argue the point. The mission was simple: no one left the property alive.
Let this human think he had a say. He had his orders from the Captain.
"Stay back," he said to Sam. "Let us handle this. Marissa, Eric, take the air. Don't miss anything. Andi, Dan—light 'em up. Everyone else, wait for the flush out. Careful with Aeron—the Captain isn't here to control his numen. I'll watch over the human. Go."
He observed carefully as his team spread through the grounds and began to work. They were the best of the best, and he would never doubt them.
But...
They were working against three of the Nine. Not any Nine, either. Two Youngers and a man who, if rumors were true, was their Swordsmith. In any other era, what they were about to do would be treason.
Asleep in their beds, the three inhabitants of the house had no idea what was happening at first. It was Gia who first noticed the acrid smell rising from below them. She sat up in bed, curiously sniffing the air. She turned to Nolan, sound asleep next to her, and reached out with a hand to shake him awake.
"Nolan?" She hissed. "Do you smell that?"
He grumbled a bit and swatted her hand, determined to remain asleep. She persisted.
"Nolan!"
"What?" he demanded, finally turning to face her. His hair was rumpled, and the pattern from the pillow was impressed upon his cheek. She had no time to be amused at the sight, but instead demanded his attention again.
"Do you smell that?"
Frustrated, he began to say no, but then paused. He sniffed once, twice, and turned a worried face toward her. As one, they scrambled from the bed.
"Pyrrhus?" Nolan called.
"Oh, he sleeps like the dead!" Gia reached for the handle to the door that separated them from the hall, but pulled back with a muttered curse the moment her hand touched the metal. "Damn!" she hissed. She shook her hand for a moment in pain, carefully examining the red welts already beginning to appear on her fingertips.
"The house is on fire!" Nolan cried. "They must have found us!"
Gia centered herself. "Let me try to pull some cold air toward us to cool it," she said. She waved her hands for a moment, and frowned when nothing happened. The reality of the situation dawned on them all at once.
“It’s a trap!”
Gia dropped onto her stomach and scrambled under the bed. “Nolan, blow a hole in the ceiling. We have to get to Pyrrhus.”
“Where?”
She stuck her head out again and looked up at the ceiling with a calculating glare. “Right by the door. Best bet… maybe three feet into the room?”
“Okay, take cover.”
Gia pulled her head back, and Nolan let loose. With a crash, pieces of plaster and wood rained down from the ceiling where his plasma bolt had struck.
“Again!”
A second bolt, and they could see up into Pyrrhus’s room. Gia wiggled back out to stand next to Nolan, dragging the box of journals with her.
“PYRRHUS!” they screamed together.
After a moment, his head peeped over the edge of the hole. “What the hell is going on?”
“Ambush! Get down here!”
Pyrrhus cursed and wiggled his way through the hole, cutting himself on the shards of wood and metal. He dropped to his feet in their room and straightened.
“Now what?”
“If we open the window, they’ll know where we are. They have Ignis and Zephyrus… who knows if Selocrim is with them! No, we need to get out into the hall.”
They both looked Pyrrhus over.
“All right, all right!” He began to strip off his pajamas.
“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?” Nolan protested.
“They’re just going to burn off of me anyway. Sorry I don’t sleep in fire retardant PJs… at least not since I was five. How many times do we have to go over the fact that cloth burns?”
“Oh, for the gods’ sake, my modesty will survive!” Gia shouted. “Just go!”
Though he couldn’t control it, the fire couldn’t hurt him, and Pyrrhus knew it. He pushed his body temperature to its upper limits and took the doorknob firmly in hand.
“Stand back—there’s going to be a backdraft.”
“WAIT!”
“What now?”
“We are not fireproof! Won’t a backdraft run the risk of seriously injuring us?”
“We are running out of options here.” Pyrrhus considered the problem for a few seconds. “Nolan, blast a hole through the wall near the ceiling—not too big, just enough to feed some oxygen to the fire. Quickly.”
The resulting flash of flame had the two flammable occupants of the room ducking.
Pyrrhus yanked the door open quickly, absorbing the last licks of flame as he observed the hall.
“There’s a path out to the kitchen. We have to get to the car—hurry!”
Nolan pulled Gia behind him and they ran down the hall as fast as they could, even as they felt the air continue to heat up around them. Pyrrhus brought up the rear, trying to use his body to shield them as best he could as he snatched the car keys from the hook by the back door.
As they burst through the screen door and onto the back porch, a small contingent of commandos were waiting for them. Nolan and Gia engaged the first wave, and the second group were shocked enough to be confronted with a naked man on fire that they were easily dispatched.
Lamesa cursed as he watched the back squad be incapacitated in a matter of seconds. “Rear exit! Go, go, go!”
The front squad fared no better.
“You fool, they’re going to get away!” Sam snarled. He rose from his hiding spot and began to run across the lawn, snatching up a large tree branch on the way. Lamesa let him go—the human was tiresome in his demands.
Nolan turned from one fight straight into another. A sudden blow to the side of the head sent him reeling, and he was suddenly wrestling with a familiar face.
“You again,” he panted as he fought to keep Sam from bashing his skull in. “I was told they would kill you.”
“No such luck!” Sam spat. “You freaks are the ones who need killing!”
Pyrrhus took down his final combatant and turned to see Nolan struggling with the man.
“Want help?” he called.
“No!” With a grunt, he heaved Sam off of him and reversed their positions, pinning him to the ground.
“I won’t let you go, Aeron! You are a blight on decent, normal people!”
“Oh, shut up!” Gia said, joining them as the last commando fell under her blows. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’ll have to kill me!” Sam said, eyes wild.
“No, Sam. That would just prove everything you say about me.” With a slip of electricity, he knocked the man out.
“There.”
Pyrrhus turned for a moment, then snapped his fingers. A burst of flame set a bush in the back half of the yard ablaze, and Lamesa stumbled out, cursing as he tried to beat out the flames on his jacket. In a moment, the three were on him, pinning him to the ground.
“Officer Lamesa! Wh
at an unpleasant surprise. How have things been?” Pyrrhus asked, his casual tone belied by the fistful of flames he was holding over the man’s head.
“Got a promotion—it’s Lieutenant now.”
“Mazel tov.”
“Pyrrhus.”
He turned to look at Gia.
“The house? The Ignis are down—the fire should be free now.”
“Oh, yes! The house. Nolan?”
Nolan took over intimidating their guest while Pyrrhus made short work of the fire. The house was ruined, but at least it wouldn’t collapse until they had a chance to retrieve some things.
“Now, where was I? Ah, I remember. Why are you here?”
“The human idiot...”
Gia’s fingers tightened around his throat. “Choose your words carefully, Lieutenant.”
He swallowed with difficulty. “He saw you. You came back from somewhere and he saw you. Called Caer Anglia and gave us your exact location—followed us here tonight and insisted on watching you die.”
Nolan sat back on his heels. “And he was right. Damn! We were so careful.”
“Not careful enough,” Gia muttered. “Now what do we do?”
“Knock him out,” Pyrrhus suggested. “It’ll buy us time… which we are wasting, by the way.”
As Nolan raised a hand full of electricity, he paused. “We killed no one tonight, Lieutenant, although you certainly had no intentions of offering us the same courtesy. I hope this makes you think again about your allegiances and where they lie.”
A shock, and he was under.
The three stood up, surveying the yard littered with moaning commandos.
“Good practice,” Pyrrhus said, drawing a laugh from Nolan.
“Come on. Let’s grab some stuff—especially clothes for you, Pyrrhus—and get out of here.” He cautiously approached the burned out shell that was his childhood home.
“What about John?” Gia asked quietly, slipping her hand into his.
“The bailey would hold even if the entire house were ash. It’s safest to leave his remains here, I think. I want to return him to Caer Anglia with honor, not bundled into my duffle bag.” He raised their linked hands and kissed the back of hers. “Let’s get this done.”
The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen #0) Page 48