by Louisa Lo
“But what if they don’t use the synch mirror? What if they’re into camera surveillance?” I asked.
“These are traditional die-hards.” Fir winked. “Do you really think the Council would’ve allowed them to use anything from the last century?”
He had a point.
I looked around for the Off-Blacks, but they were already invisible, with not a stray vibe of elf, giant, or anything else in the surrounding area. If I didn’t know they were around, I wouldn’t think anything was out of place at all. I made a mental note to look into their camouflage techniques.
It felt like forever before we arrived at the clearing where the great basin bristlecone pine stood. Esme tapped three times on the trunk, and a door opened, revealing an elevator made entirely of wood. Following Esme’s lead, we stepped into the chamber. The door closed and down we went.
The interior of the elevator was smooth and free of railings, leaving me with nothing to grab onto as we reached near free fall. A scream stuck in my throat. I held it tight, fearing that the chamber was being monitored. I should’ve asked Fir if the parasol altered audio perception as well.
I tried to think of something to distract myself. There were now six people in the tiny room, yet I didn’t feel any of the Off-Blacks bumping into me. If they were here—and I assumed they were—how the heck did they manage to mask not only their visual presence but also their physical? Some sort of shrinking spell? Or space manipulation?
The descent decelerated as suddenly as it had started. The door opened, and Esme stepped out into a marbled lobby with a lone witch at the reception desk. Esme flashed the girl her employee identification card. “Hello, Sapphira.”
“Hello, Esmeralda.” Sapphira smiled, addressing my half-sister by the long form of her name in a show of vengeance formality. “Coming in early to prepare for Undersecretary Regnum’s town hall this evening?”
“Yeah. Just a few things.”
“Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
We passed through the lobby and into a passage to the left. We took another to the right, walking until we arrived at a central hub that was connected to a large network of tunnels. Esme chose one and walked in, then turned left, then another two rights, her sense of direction like a homing pigeon. It felt almost like we were in some kind of ant colony, with twists and turns every few feet, and doors appearing at random, likely leading to ever more tunnels. I was so glad to have activated this new trickster app that Fir just designed, the last bugs shook out thanks to him talking it through with Candy when we were at Mel’s. It automatically tracked the places we’d passed through and would create a map for the return trip. I supposed such an app would be invaluable if a trickery ever went wrong and a trickster had to make a hasty getaway.
We passed vengeance demons here and there. Sometimes on their own and sometimes traveling in groups. Esme politely greeted all of them, and not once did anyone sense something was off with her.
“We can talk freely here,” Esme said, stopping in a deserted tunnel and touching the smooth wall next to her. “Now that we’re in the actual network itself, these walls are embedded with Molten Amber. They absorb sound so that the words spoken in one section of the tunnel can’t be heard in the one before or after it. It’s an effective way to keep the areas insulated from each other.”
“I remember Serafina mentioned the Dualsing palace having the same stones within its walls, but it sounded like those on that side did nothing but light the way.” I squinted at the wall, which looked like any other boring, cement wall.
“That’s because those Molten Amber were probably forced to work there, rather than being invited to work like they do here. Illuminating is just the most basic thing these hidden gems can do. They could absorb sounds, cleanse the spirit, wipe out negative vibes, and they never, ever reveal your secret, not even to the Council. We are completely safe talking here.”
“Well, it’s a cool idea not to have any off-the-book political chats monitored and recorded, but the Council are control freaks. Why would they choose to trust something they can’t fully control?”
“It’s tradition. What can’t be controlled by them also couldn’t be controlled by others.”
“No, it’s arrogance.”
“It’s creepy, that’s what it is. I can feel all my evilness being drained away,” Bonaventure the Third complained as the Off-Blacks materialized before us. The materialization was in two stages, visual and then a return to true form. They were briefly visible in their morph shapes. I caught a glimpse of them before the morph and saw that the self-proclaimed evil villains were disguising themselves as cute little cartoony purple bats. No wonder they didn’t bump me in the elevator.
I wasn’t about to tell the Off-Blacks that they were probably more irritating than evil. After all, we were on the same mission together, cute purple bats and all. So I turned my attention to Esme. “So, Undersecretary Regnum, huh? You didn’t tell me you’re working for her.”
“It’s supposed to be confidential.” Esme blushed. Realization dawned on me why she chose to keep that a secret. As an Aequitas who didn’t have a trickster side, Esme had vengeance opportunities thrown at her that I never would. She was trying to spare my feelings. And up to a few days ago, I would have actually cared enough about my place in that society to be hurt.
“How far are we to the Pond?” I changed the subject.
The Pond was the entry to the restricted area where they were holding Eldon. That was also as far as Esme’s clearance could take her. We didn’t know the specifics of how to get past that because we didn’t know what to expect. Even Grandma didn’t know because the safeguards rotated randomly. Hopefully between the trickster and black marketeers among us, someone had the skill set, come what may.
“Not far at all. Just a couple more turns. That’s why I stopped here.”
“Tell us where to go, and you get out of here before the shit hits the fan.”
Hurt and confusion crowded Esme’s eyes. “We agreed I’d come along.”
“Two words, sister: Undersecretary Regnum.”
“What about her? I don’t get it.” Esme frowned.
“It’s not her. It’s what working for her represents. You have a bright future in the vengeance society. I’m not going to ruin that for you. Besides”—I winked at her—“I might need a friend in high places one of these days.”
“I’m not a friend. I’m your sister.” Leave it to Esme to take everything so literally.
“I know. Please, I promise to call for you if something goes bad, okay?”
Esme looked at me for a long time. Finally she sighed. “I’ll be on standby. Call me at the first sign of trouble.”
Or the second. Or the third. Let’s face it, I would try to not call her at all.
I transformed myself to look like one of the girls Esme had greeted on our way here. Then Esme handed me the parasol before heading back in the direction we came.
Esme’s direction was accurate to a tee, and the Pond was actually, well, a real pond. Well, at least until it randomly switched to some other safeguard later. The tunnel widened then sloped downward to accommodate a body of water about the size of two full-length swimming pools. The water was murky and green and it was impossible to see to the bottom. On the far side of the Pond was a clearing, which led to two tunnels on each side of it.
A boat was moored on our side of the Pond, next to a small wooden dock. A lone figure waited for us there.
Sui-Ling.
The real one or the Grey’s substitute, I had no idea.
She walked toward us, the nasty-looking sword swinging from her hip as always. At least it wasn’t unsheathed. But I was familiar enough with her skill to not let my guard down.
“Hello, Megan.” Sui-Ling nodded at me, seeing through my glamor with no trouble at all. Then she gestured at the spot where Fir was, though he was supposed to be invisible due to the parasol in my hand. “And this is your trickster brother, I be
lieve.”
I warily lowered the parasol and allowed Fir to be visible again. There was no use pretending if Sui-Ling had already figured it out.
“How did you know?” Fir asked Sui-Ling ruefully. “I just invented this spell.”
“No, you just reinvented it from an old Chinese legend recorded by a Victorian scholar. My grandmother told me the story when I was a child. So naturally I recognized all the signs.”
“Your grandmother or Sui-Ling’s grandmother?” I asked, remembering how Sui-Ling’s pretender was able to pick up both the original’s personality and knowledge.
“Oh, I assure you, I am the real Sui-Ling.” She took out the sword and unsheathed it. Fir and I jumped back in alarm, pulling our magic around us. But Sui-Ling simply grasped the sword’s long handle and twisted, revealing a hidden compartment inside the handle, and picking a small tube out of many that were hidden there. I was reminded of those human screwdrivers that contained multiple removable tips for the everyday handyman.
The selected tube was some kind of mini aerosol can. She squeezed down on its button and moved the can around as if she was spraying Lysol into the air, and the Off-Blacks materialized and fell to the ground. The aerosol can must have contained fairy dust that neutralized concealment charms.
While Bonaventure the Third, Wistari, and Naracion scrambled off the floor, Sui-Ling neatly put the aerosol can back inside her sword handle. The can jingled as it slid back into its own slot. But that couldn’t be right. I’d learned enough from Weapons & Self-Defense 201 to know that the worth of a sword wasn’t just based on the quality of the blade. The weight and density of the handle helped balance the swordsman’s grip and increase maneuverability. I’d never heard of a handle that wasn’t solid, unless—
“That sword is just for show, isn’t it?” I asked her.
She grinned. “Of course.”
“Why?” Fir asked as he helped the Off-Blacks off the ground.
“For distraction. When everyone is busy looking at the sword in the Asian chick’s hand, that’s when they’re not looking at the gun in her other hand.” Sui-Ling sheathed the sword and handed it to me, handle first. “Here. A message from Lady Aequitas to prove I’m the real Sui-Ling. She said she’s looking into something and cannot come join you right away. Just open your senses while touching the sword. She said you’ll understand once you do.”
I gripped the handle. Immediately, in my mind’s eye a short, three-second scene replayed over and over of a fat bird’s poop landing on ten-year-old Cousin Fred’s head.
That was the shared, re-synched memory between Grandma and myself. It had a special meaning because it demonstrated that even back when she was pretending not to love me, she was watching out for me and punishing my bullies behind my back.
The memory was sweet but not politically significant. Not likely something that would have come out during an interrogation, in the very unlikely event that the Greys had managed to get the drop on Grandma. It was indeed a message from her.
That meant the girl in front of me was the real Sui-Ling.
“You’re on our side?” I asked incredulously.
Sui-Ling held up a hand. “I wouldn’t go as far as that. But the alliance with the Greys is causing great discord throughout the planes. It has to be stopped.”
“And how does the Condor League feel about the whole thing?” Fir asked.
“My superiors are very…politically minded.”
“In other words, they want to cover their asses. So how are you going to help us, you-who-are-technically-not-on-our-side?”
“I’m honor-bound to not assist you in the rescue.” There was a silent message in Sui-Ling’s eyes I couldn’t quite decipher. “But I would turn a blind eye to your presence here.”
And with that, she left the dock.
Fir and I looked at each other. He shrugged. “It went better than I thought.”
“That’s because you aren’t the one who was un-transformed against your will and made to kiss the ground with your forehead. Crazy witch,” Bonaventure the Third muttered.
Fir and I got into the small boat. With limited seating, it made more sense for the Off-Blacks to resume their invisible bat forms. Considering the Pond was the entry point to the restricted area, I was expecting the alarm to start blaring once my bum hit the seat, or a demand for passwords. Nope. Na-da.
It turned out, getting into the boat was easy, getting the boat to move was a different story.
I tried lifting the oars, but they wouldn’t budge. The oars were just lying there, settled loosely into the oversized oarlocks on each side of the boat, but like magnets they simply refused to detach from their positions.
With the oars being so stubborn and our goal so close, I was tempted to jump into the water and swim across. A look over the side and I had changed my mind. Even up close, I still couldn’t see all the way to the bottom. The surface rippled as if there were eel-like creatures swimming underneath it.
The waves had a hypnotic effect on me, making me focus my entire being on its ebbs and flows. I barely registered Fir’s frantic poking at my arm.
Until High Judge Edbert Llewellyn Advocatus, Serafina’s uncle, dropped himself on the seat opposite of me in the boat, causing it to wobble and me to stop thinking about what creatures might lie in the pond.
I winced, remembering that while both the Off-Blacks and Fir were currently invisible, I wasn’t. I was too shocked to even leap up and fight.
Yet High Judge Advocatus looked right through me, staring straight ahead, his eyes blank. He settled into the seat, picked up the oars, and began to row us across the Pond. He didn’t seem to have the same problem as I did with them.
As we came to the far edge of the Pond, the judge reset the oars and stood. Without a word, he stepped from the boat and onto the shore. He made his way down the tunnel on the left, and that was that.
After a few seconds, I dropped the parasol on the belly of the boat, my muscles felt like I’d run a marathon.
“That was…happily anti-climactic,” Fir commented dryly, visible again.
“What happened?” I whispered, nerves still jangling.
Fir pursed his lips, then a smile slowly spread over his face. “When Sui-Ling said she’d turn a blind eye to our presence, she meant she’d help us by turning on the Blind Eye spell.”
“The what?” Bonaventure the Third dropped down to the boat with his sidekicks. Naracion cried as he tripped over the parasol and almost felt into the water.
“The Blind Eye spell. It’s an old trickster classic not a lot of people know how to do anymore. Her secret society must’ve retained the knowledge for it.” There was awe in Fir’s voice. “Long-lost tricksters spells. Creative weapons. General unpredictability. I like this girl.”
I didn’t like that gleam of interest in his eyes.
“Seriously, like, don’t,” I warned him. “She’s a vengeance demon who knows her way around a human gun. No. Crushing. On. The. Secret. Society. Vengeance. Chick. No. Matter. How. Helpful. She’s. Been.”
“Killjoy.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
In Serafina’s Shoes: Heir
AFTER MEGAN, ESME, FIR, and the Off-Blacks left for the Council headquarters, I sat cross-legged on Megan’s parents’ basement floor and gestured for Pedro to do the same. I scattered the herbs provided by the Off-Blacks in a spiral pattern and said, “We’ll begin.”
“I don’t know what to do, Serafina,” Pedro said with a tremor in his voice, his hands fidgeting.
“It’ll come to you naturally,” I promised.
I took a deep breath, remembering how my connection with Deirdre had brought my spirit to the vengeance world when I was still physically at Dualsing, making me an unwilling witness to Cousin Gabriella’s murder. “Being this close to your return date you might have started sharing a bond with your counterpart already.”
“I haven’t been feeling any bonds,” Pedro insisted. But his eyes shifted away just a bit too
quickly.
“How about now?” Gregory had been standing at the back, but now he walked close to Pedro and offered his hand. Pedro took it, then his eyes widened.
“What’s happening?” I looked from Gregory to Pedro. Gregory had an unreadable expression on his face, while Pedro looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“My birth father and Pedro’s host parent are brothers,” Gregory explained. “My blood relation to his counter-part amplifies and magnifies Pedro’s connection with him.”
Hope rose in me. Gregory had just made my job so much easier. I would like to say that I’d made a mental note to share the new information of his origin with Megan, but truth be told, I was so focused on the tasks ahead I might not remember to. The faster I could do my job, the faster Eldon would be away from his tormentors.
“I can feel my counterpart now,” Pedro whispered in wonder. “He’s like someone who exists in my blind spot. Always been there. A white noise I’ve been dismissing without realizing I was doing it.”
“Good,” I said excitedly. “What else can you feel? Focus on something on your physical body.”
“My neck,” Pedro breathed. “It’s hurting. Something heavy is—”
“Weighing it down?” I guessed.
“Yes! It’s so heavy I can feel a migraine coming.”
“What you’re feeling is the weight of a very large pendent. Turn your head left and right. Can you feel it?”
Pedro did as I asked. “Yes. Big pendent. And sharp. The chain is cutting into my flesh.”
The Eye of Sebille. Or a version of it similar to the one I wore on Dualsing, currently assigned to Pedro’s counterpart. The jewel was probably enchanted to have a more humble appearance in order to not raise too many questions, unless Pedro’s counterpart resided in the royal court like I did.
“Close your eyes. Keep the feel of the pendent with you,” I instructed. “Now open your mind’s eye. What do you see?”
Pedro’s eyebrows knitted together. “A marketplace. With a lot of fruit and vegetable stalls. I come here to deliver melons for my dad every week, but really I was always hoping to see her.”