by Simone Pond
After it was over, I counted three people dead and four severely injured. Three dead. That was the cost of keeping my secret.
Disgust wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what ate through me like a river of bitterness. I ran down the hallway toward the back exit, looking for the young mage. What was his exact involvement with Magnus and what had he been promised?
Out in the winding and narrow alleys, there was no sign of the boy—not a single trace or scent left behind. Regardless of what Magnus had promised him, oblivion was most likely to be the poor sucker’s reward. I ripped off the despicable cape and tossed it into a dumpster.
The clock bell tolled, letting me know it was eight o’clock. Also letting me know I was late for my first day on the job. I sprinted down the sidewalk toward operative headquarters. The tall silver building stood adjacent to the enormous Uphaz Bridge—the only one in the city—that linked the right and left banks. I ran up to the main entrance and stood panting at the front door while the eye scanner did its thing. The silver doors slid open.
Inside the lobby, operatives were hustling and bustling, many scrambling out of the building, undoubtedly responding to the event that I just happened to be at. I kept my head lowered, not wanting to engage in a single conversation, and made a beeline to the elevator. I pressed the button to the third floor, keeping my head down, and checked the time. Fifteen minutes late. Not good.
“Hey,” a young guy said, tapping my shoulder. “You’re the Prime Master’s daughter.”
“Granddaughter,” I corrected.
“You’re the one who killed that terrorist mage the other night, right?” He tipped his wool newsboy cap and smiled.
The elevator stopped, and I bolted out into the hallway, but realized it was only the second floor. I stepped back inside as the other passengers got out.
The guy in the newsboy cap continued, “You saved all those lives.”
“Mm hmm.”
I glanced away, feeling like a fraud. If he’d only witnessed what had just happened in the coffee shop, he wouldn’t be so enamored of me. But he was going off the media reports. The story that Counselor Magnus and his propaganda machine had concocted. The one every reporter in Mysterium had been spewing all weekend …
“With the assistance of a new, high-end device built with left-bank technicians and right-bank knowhow, operative Jordan Bachar was able to stop a dangerous terrorist mage from combusting at a celebration for the Academy’s graduating class. As soon as the final touches are completed on the device, all operatives will be issued this latest hardware.”
Magnus made me a hero, which was utter balderdash. But most residents of Mysterium—left and right bank—digested what they were told and moved on to the next thing. And as soon as Magnus dropped the next report about the attack at the coffee shop, I’d be out of the spotlight and long forgotten. Magnus was a genius when it came to manufacturing the truth.
The kid waved his hand in front of my face. “Your floor.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“I’m Daniel, by the way. Work at the snack bar on the top floor. If you ever need anything, you let me know.”
Snack bar had a nice ring to it. I shook Daniel’s hand, and he tipped his hat one last time, then I scurried out of the elevator onto the third floor.
The Jade Division was a wide open square with rows and rows of desks in the middle, surrounded by a 360-degree view of the city. Since it’s impossible to see through silver panels, I figured the walls had some heavy-duty magic going on. Again, the use of magic was permitted in certain places. In this instance, I was grateful. Otherwise the Jade Division might look like the inside of a tomb.
All the guys were at their work stations, cracking jokes, and some of the higher ranks were hazing a few of the newbies. I weaved through the rows to my assigned desk—a simple white table with a touch panel surface and nothing else. There was Nils standing at his desk directly across from me—no partition or barrier was between us. In fact, there weren’t any walls between any of the stations. Zero privacy. I stood at my station and initiated the system by placing my palm on the smooth surface of the desk.
Nils clapped his hands. “Forget to set the alarm? Or too busy signing autographs?”
I wanted to be annoyed with the doofus, but he made it impossible. It was that sly grin and those charming good looks.
“Sorry. Family issues,” I lied.
“Is this going to be a regular thing?” He sounded curt.
I swished through my newsfeed, scanning the morning dispatch for the coffee shop incident. Nothing had been reported yet.
“I hope not,” I muttered.
“Being a hero doesn’t grant you special privileges,” Nils said, mimicking my grandfather’s stoic speech from the other night.
I glanced over and noticed a crooked smile. He was messing with me.
“I’m old news. I’m sure something more fascinating has happened since Friday night. Like … hooking up with a certain red-headed Dreamgirl?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t kiss and blab, Jordy. Which is why you should give me a shot. Our secret would be safe.”
If he only knew how many secrets I was already keeping in a vault. One more might make me spontaneously combust.
“Hey, I’m just playing. Don’t look so mortified.” He typed on his panel and pulled up his monitor.
“No, sorry. That’s not what … forget it. Have you had coffee yet? I haven’t. Let’s get some coffee.”
His eyes widened as he scanned the monitor. “Whoa, nelly!”
“What?”
“Check dispatch. Some shit went down this morning. Another damn attack. These left-bank punks really need a comeuppance!”
The buzz of the room’s jocularity turned to a somber intensity as the rest of the Jade Division operatives read the newsfeed. I pretended to read the report and react with astonishment. My phone buzzed in my back pocket. Another text.
CHAPTER 4
The text from Counselor Magnus read:
5117 Gilad. Left bank. Noon.
The noose was tightening around my neck. How much longer was this jacked-up arrangement with the counselor going to last?
“Unbelievable,” I muttered.
Nils tapped on his desk. “Messed up, huh?”
“Just can’t believe there was another attack …”
One of the higher-ranking Topaz operatives called out from the front of the room, “All hands on deck. Conference room.”
We filed behind the other newbies and took our seats. The energy of the Jade Division was pumping with adrenaline and vitriol—these guys were ready to march over the Uphaz Bridge into the left bank and take down any Leftbanker who had the slightest hint of magic on them.
“We need to nuke that whole left bank! What do you say, Bachar?” Operative Peters—a jazzed up, red-faced bull of a man—elbowed me.
“Yeah, but who would make our magical entertainment devices, or keep the plumbing running?” I mumbled.
My comrades were really riled up and patriotic and I could see why: terrorism was a heinous crime. But most of those Leftbankers were just poor, hard-working saps; indentured servants who’d be working their whole lives to pay off their never-ending debts to Mysterium’s Oligarchs. Of course the terrorist mages needed to be dealt with severely, but I started wondering … if Magnus was behind the coffee shop attack, how many others had he instigated or allowed?
“Gentlemen,” Commanding Officer Crawford addressed the group, then homed in on me. “And Operative Bachar.” He was a sinewy man, who took up an entire doorway and kept his white hair pulled back so tight against his skull it was almost undetectable. “We’ve been attacked again,” Crawford stated. “This time there were three victims, plus our peace of mind. I’m meeting with the high council this afternoon to discuss a strategy and next steps. In the meantime, we’re deploying more operatives from the Topaz Division onto the left bank, and increasing our presence at the ports and the Uphaz
checkpoints.”
He paused, removing his glasses to clean off the lenses. The action was casual and calm, precise and measured. He wanted us to remember who was in charge.
“Jades, you’ll be assigned to potential hotspots throughout the right bank and act as a deterrent. Need to keep our streets and people safe.” He slipped his glasses back on and eyed the group as if waiting to be challenged.
This day was getting increasingly stressful. If I was stationed on the right bank, how was I supposed to get to the left bank without getting captured—or killed—by one of my own people, do whatever deplorable thing Magnus requested, and get back to my assigned position on the right bank without drawing any attention to myself? It sounded near impossible. I sent Magnus a quick text stating my predicament.
Wallace, one of the pumped up, eager beavers, waved his hand.
“Wallace,” Crawford said.
“What about sending some of us more qualified operatives over to the left bank? Or one of the riverboats? There’s gotta be something more we can do besides patrol the streets.”
Commanding Officer Crawford chuckled and shook his head like he’d seen this sort of thing a hundred times before. “Qualified, huh? And that’s you? I know you’re amped up to go over there and set the record straight, but Jades stay on the right bank. Your role is to protect our side of Mysterium. We don’t feed newbies to the lions on day one, kid.”
The operatives laughed. Wallace slouched down, accepting his rookie position with a sliver of humility. But he had given me an idea. If I could get over to the left bank via legitimate means, I’d be able to reach my target and take care of my Magnus business without too much trouble.
As we walked back to our stations, Nils patted my shoulder. “You okay?”
“We’re going to Crawford and requesting a left-bank assignment. We’re leveraging my hero status.”
His eyes brightened with surprise. “You serious?”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”
Nils bear-hugged me and lifted me off the ground.
I pushed away. “Please don’t do that. We’re partners.”
“Aye, aye, partner.” He saluted me like a smart-ass.
I turned and walked to the elevator. Nils jogged behind me, jabbering about keeping it professional between the hours of eight and six. Probably the best deal I’d ever get from him.
***
Inside Commanding Officer Crawford’s office, Nils and I stood to attention. Crawford had zero magical effects on his walls, so the place looked like a silver chamber where vampires or werewolves went to die. Stark and grim. And he kept the room well below sixty degrees.
“I assume you’re here to request a left-bank assignment,” he said, raising his brow.
Nils stepped forward and said, “Sir, we both feel that since Jordan—Operative Bachar—did such a stellar job handling the terrorist mage on Friday night, perhaps she can put her talents to use over there.”
Crawford studied me a moment. “Not sure where you got your hands on that weapon, Bachar. I can only assume it had something to do with Counselor Magnus—who seems to think he’s above the law—but it was a tremendous thing you did. Do you still have the device?”
“No, sir.”
He observed us quietly, then finally spoke. “And you’re still requesting to go over to the left bank and put your lives at risk?”
“Yes, sir!” Nils answered for both of us.
“And you?” he asked, looking at me.
I wouldn’t be putting my life at risk. I was worried about Nils. Even if I could use my magic to protect him, there were no guarantees. But I had to get to that location.
I nodded. “I’m prepared to go over to the left bank, sir.”
Crawford removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses again. “Not gonna happen.”
“Sir?” Nils blurted.
The subtle look Crawford gave Nils was enough to silence any further outbursts. Then his phone dinged and he answered it, while we stood waiting to be dismissed.
“Yes. Mm hmm. Yes,” he said to the other party, glaring at me the whole time. It didn’t take a genius to know who was on the other end of that call.
He hung up. “Well, looks like you’re going to the left bank. Friggin’ Magnus, thinks he’s above the law …”
He swiped his monitor, typed a few things, and reviewed a map with hundreds of orange dots scattered throughout the left bank. He zoomed in on a spot next to the Uphaz Bridge.
“Here,” he said, pointing to the coordinates. “You’ll be stationed at the underpass. Rat patrol. No one gets near the bridge. Clear out any bums, trolls, or whatever else is living down there. You’ll take the first riverboat out, dock at our sanctioned port, and head to your post.”
Nils saluted. “Thank you, sir.”
I lifted my hand to my forehead. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
“You can thank Magnus,” he grumbled.
Out by the elevator, Nils smacked my back. “Well done. Let’s go rub it in Wallace’s face.”
“Pride goeth before the fall, partner,” I said.
Before we stepped into the elevator, the scent of something fresh baked and comforting wafted by. I turned to follow the trail around the corner, ending up at the snack bar. The kid I had met earlier that morning—Daniel—stood at the register, attending to a high-ranking operative. He waved at me, pointing to the racks of fresh-baked goods. I smiled and shook my head.
“What’s going on?” Nils asked, coming behind me.
“That smell … it’s delicious,” I said with my mouth watering.
Something else was happening, too—a sort of olfactory memory was taking over my entire mind, body, and soul. I felt different, smaller or younger; my surroundings seemed foreign and strange. Like I had been yanked out of one place and plunked into an entirely different one.
“Potato latkes,” Nils said. “Now, come on. We gotta catch that riverboat, ASAP.”
CHAPTER 5
On the riverboat, Nils and I made our way to the upper deck where one of the Topaz operatives had ordered us to go. It was definitely cold up there with the wind whipping off the water. Nils didn’t mind, though. He grinned like a fox, staring off into the gray fog as we headed toward the left bank. I checked my watch: eleven o’clock. I had one hour to get to my location and wait for my next set of instructions.
“You keep looking at that thing like it holds the mysteries of the universe,” Nils joked.
“I haven’t eaten yet,” I muttered; a lame excuse.
“You’re thinking about food?” Nils shook his head then sauntered over to the guardrail and peered over the side.
I sat on one of the hard benches and wrapped my scarf around my face so only my eyes were visible. In the distance, the sharp silver points of the Uphaz Bridge pierced through the layers of fog. As we got closer to the left bank, black factory smoke billowed into the air and mixed with the fog, turning it gunmetal gray.
A memory rushed back to me …
I was ten years old. My mother and I were returning to her home of Mysterium. This was the first time I’d be meeting her family, since she’d adopted me after she’d left home to be an ambassador in Alexandria seven years prior. I remember the excitement of getting to meet her father, the Prime Master of the Confederated Six. When we arrived, however, the only welcome I received was his cold and distant gaze, which cut into me as though I were a stray animal. I would’ve preferred the arid lands of Alexandria with its harlots and healers to the icy welcome Prime Master Herold Bachar bestowed upon me. I’d been fighting to change his opinion of me since that day. Yet, I remained that same pathetic stray animal in his eyes.
I stood up and joined my partner by the railing, where the wind nearly tore off my cap. I shoved it into my pocket and let my ponytail whip in the wind.
“Hey,” I chattered.
“You ever been over here?” Nils motioned with his chin.
I shook my head. I might’ve been, but I couldn
’t say for sure since I didn’t have any memories of my life prior to becoming Charity Bachar’s daughter. For all I knew, I could’ve grown up on the streets of the left bank. Nils stared quietly. I’d always suspected he was of left bank descent, but again, this wasn’t something we discussed.
“I know you’re ready for action,” I said. “But we have to be level-headed, all right?”
“This isn’t amateur hour. I’ve got this, Jordy. You’re not the only one with skills.”
“Exactly. I just don’t want you to hurt anyone who doesn’t have it coming,” I said.
“Everyone has it coming,” he joked.
“You should be a comedian.”
“We’re on rat patrol,” he reminded me, tugging on my ponytail.
“For the record,” I told him, “messing with my hair—or let’s just say any sort of physical contact—is off limits between the hours of eight and six.”
Nils checked his watch. “Alarm set for six-o-one …”
The riverboat pulled into the port. Nils and I waited until the Topaz unit disembarked before we stepped off. Nils led the way down the dock toward our assigned location—his shoulders back, his stride confident. I checked my phone again, but there was no new information from Magnus, and it was fifteen minutes before noon. I put the address he had sent earlier into my navigation. The place was within walking distance. Now I just needed to separate from Nils for a bit. I could say I got a last-minute request from Crawford to check out something, but Nils could follow up on that one. Or I could say Magnus had a special request. That might work, but it would bring up the discussion of privilege—something I wanted to avoid. I could always use the ace up my sleeve …