by Simone Pond
The Academy had taught us to deal with such mind manipulation, and the training kicked in. I got up and headed to the door. I wasn’t going to be late for work a second day in a row.
“This has all been very entertaining, but I gotta run,” I said.
Haggai grabbed my arm and energy rippled through my tendons and into my spine, rendering me motionless. I wanted to pull away, but his magic was too strong for me to fight.
“Listen to me,” he said. “You must search the actual historical files about that virus that hit Mysterium twenty-two years ago. There you’ll discover what your right-bank council really did. Read between the lines. And later—when reality starts to sink in—go to this location, then return to me.” He took my hand and inscribed a symbol onto my palm, using his index finger. The symbol glowed bright for a moment, then quickly disappeared. “Go see for yourself what Counselor Magnus is really doing.”
CHAPTER 9
I camouflaged myself among the throngs of left-bank laborers headed toward the docks to catch the ferries over to the right bank. The leftover dirt on my face and clothes was working in my favor, allowing me to blend in with the others. But when I reached the entrance, I stopped short. Security had doubled since the recent mage attacks and Topaz operatives were in full force, thoroughly checking everyone’s papers.
I inched backward, glancing over my shoulder for another exit route. I could stow away on another shipping boat. Or maybe pay one of the trawler captains to take me over discreetly. I needed to act fast before one of the operatives noticed me edging my way off the dock.
A hand slapped my shoulder, and I thought it was over. I was busted.
“Fancy meeting you here, partner,” Nils said.
I spun around and nearly collapsed against his chest with relief. “Did you stay here all night?”
“Told you I wouldn’t leave without you.” He gave me that sly grin.
“Can we get back? We’re not here on legit business.”
“You’re not, but I am. So I’m sure we can work out something …”
I punched his shoulder. “This is no time to be flirting with me, Nils.”
He checked his watch. “It’s actually seven thirty. You said between the hours of eight and six.”
I had to chuckle a little bit. “Fine. Just get me onto one of these ferries.”
Nils cuffed my arms behind my back and escorted me down the dock. When we got to the checkpoint, one of the operatives took Nils off to the side while another kept watch on me. Nils whispered something to him and he nodded. When they returned, the operative waved us through onto the ferry without any trouble.
Once we were on the upper deck, I asked, ““What’d you say to him?”
“Don’t you worry, party girl. Your reputation won’t be too damaged.”
Great. So now the guys in the Jade Division could add left-bank, night-vamp partier to my resume.
On the ride across the River Elin, I thought about what Haggai had told me; it was tough to ignore the hook tugging at my heart. I should’ve immediately reported the mage, but he’d piqued my curiosity. And having become more acquainted with the shady side of Counselor Magnus, I knew there was a lot more going on behind the scenes. So yeah, I’d entertain the mage and check into these alleged “actual” historical files. I might even go to the location he’d inscribed on my palm. But whatever resulted from this expedition, I was no Chosen One.
“So … Jordy … You gonna clue me in?” Nils careened into my thoughts.
“You need to get out of this,” I blurted.
“Out of what?”
“Just leave before Magnus sinks his claws into you. Trust me, Nils.”
He laughed. “You think I’m gonna leave you alone? Especially after that temple fiasco?”
I felt like a fraud trying to hold a collapsing scam together. “You’re about to head into some serious jungle without a machete. Walk away while you still have legs.” The cold wind struck my cheeks and I shivered.
“Look, I’m not an idiot. I know Magnus has something on you, Jordy. And he’s up to no good. I’m your partner and partners stick together. Whatever’s going on, I’m with you.”
His level of loyalty put mine to shame. I wanted to jump over the side of that ferry into the freezing river. Nils wasn’t backing down, leaving me with only one option—give him a bite.
“Tell me what you know about the prophecy,” I said.
He cocked his head. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m not sure. But just answer the question, please.”
He told me everything he knew about the Oracle’s prophecy, and his recollection of the foretelling matched mine. Of course it did. That’s what we had been taught our whole lives. But now, hearing him repeat it, something didn’t feel right.
“You remember learning about the virus that hit Mysterium?” I asked.
He nodded. “Vaguely.”
“Well, if you’re sticking around, that’s where we need to start,” I said.
“For what?”
“I’m not sure,” I murmured.
“For someone as practical as you, that’s a lot of I’m not sures. What’s Magnus got on you?”
I planned on waiting to reveal the truth about my magic for as long as possible. Especially after that conversation with Haggai. If what the Leftbanker had told me about being of Ancient blood was even remotely true, it wasn’t just my magic I’d need to hide. I’d have to leave the Jade Division.
“I’ll tell you this, Nils, these covert operations he’s having me do aren’t to protect the right bank. That attack yesterday morning in the coffee shop—he knew about it. In fact, he arranged it. And that woman you accidentally killed yesterday—he wanted me to kidnap her for some alleged Seventh city location.”
Nils stood quietly for a moment, staring at the dirty cement and rubbing the dark stubble along his jawline. Then he whistled, shaking his head. “That’s messed up. Whatever he’s got on you must be huge.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
***
At headquarters, Nils and I jumped into the elevator just as the doors were closing and promptly bumped into none other than Commanding Officer Crawford.
“Nice of you two to show up,” he said.
I pressed the button for the third floor, keeping my attention on the numbers above the doors, wishing we could go faster.
“We were following up on a lead, sir,” Nils lied.
“Next time you get to work fifteen minutes late, have a real reason. And Bachar, make sure your uniform is clean. Both of you are assigned desk duty today. In fact, you’ll be scanning online communications the rest of the week.”
Desk duty was an operative’s worst form of punishment. Nobody wanted to do the tedious work of sifting through hours of online conversations, scanning for “terrorist” buzzwords. Like real terrorists actually used conspicuous words when making plans to attack the city.
The elevator doors opened, saving us from any further discussion. We saluted Crawford and darted out into the hallway. I headed straight to my work station and Nils to his. I gave him a subtle nod and switched on my monitor.
Hours of eavesdropping on conversations between trawler boat and shipping companies nearly put me to sleep. If anyone on the left bank was planning on poisoning the fish supply or carrying over incendiaries in the bellies of trout, it had slipped through the cracks that day. Nils wasn’t doing much better on his side of the work station. Poor guy. I couldn’t allow Nils to go any deeper down the hole with me. I had to find a way to cut him loose.
About an hour after lunch, Magnus sent a text. He wanted to meet in his office at eight o’clock. Probably to discuss another shady assignment. Whatever it was, I was determined to handle the business on my own. Nils would argue if I told him to step back, so I had to get creative. Sorry, Nils—I hate doing this to you, but it’s for your own good …
I streamed through hundreds of mind-numbing high-society conver
sations, putting together information about where a certain classy redhead—Sandra Raywood, Nils’s dream girl—would be dining later that evening. Sure, I wasn’t following protocol, but that boat had already sailed down the Elin River the moment I signed Magnus’s contract.
The remainder of the work day dragged at the rate of a funeral procession, and at six o’clock Nils was slumped over his workstation.
“It’s done!” I said a bit too cheerfully. I shut down my monitor and grabbed him to head out.
“Longest day ever,” he grumbled as we walked to the elevator.
“Only three more to go. We can do it.”
“Please don’t sound so cheerful,” he said.
We kept our conversation to polite banter until we were a safe five or six blocks away from headquarters.
“What’s the plan to get into the historical files?” Nils asked.
A cold blast rushed off the river into the right bank. I pulled my jacket up around my neck, and a bunch of dirt from my earlier escapades avalanched down the inside of my uniform.
“The first thing I’m doing is taking a shower,” I said.
“I thought you wanted to look into the virus?”
What I really wanted was to slow down a bit so we’d be passing by Palmer’s Supper Club at precisely fifteen minutes after six. But Nils was walking too fast with those long strides. I stopped to “tie my bootlace.”
“Sure. But there’s no rush,” I said, stalling.
He walked back to me. “This morning you seemed pretty pumped up about getting on this right away.”
“I was flying high on adrenaline. It can wait.” I finished tying my boot and started walking toward the busy street of Rossmore with its high-end shops and restaurants.
“Why are you going this way?” he asked.
“Thought I’d pick up some take-out,” I lied.
I took my phone out from my back pocket, checking the time. We were right on schedule. I kept walking down the cobblestone sidewalk toward the gleaming blue sign in the distance that read Palmer’s in giant cursive lettering. Nils stopped following me.
I turned around, feeling a shot of panic that he was about to blow my plan. “What?”
“What’s gotten into you, Jordy?”
“Nothing! Just a long day. I’d really like to get home and take a shower. Get this dirt off of me and eat in my room. Alone,” I said with a slight pleading behind my words.
Nils shrugged, unconvinced, but resumed walking, which was really all I cared about. Our boots thudded on the sidewalk as we approached a row of restaurants, their music, laughter, and rich aromas pouring from the doors whenever someone entered or exited. At precisely quarter after six, we neared the black awning and red carpet of Palmer’s Supper Club. A sleek mint-green sports car pulled up to the curb, and the chauffeur hopped out to open the back door and let out a stunning redhead. Sandra Raywood stood almost six feet tall in her emerald green, knee-length dress with layers of crinoline jetting out from underneath.
Nils shot a glare at me and shook his head. He’d caught on to my scheme.
Sandra sauntered over and gave Nils a big, wet kiss on his cheek, then the other. “Well, isn’t this just perfect timing! Come dine with me, Mr. Fox,” she purred, then looked down her nose at me.
“Oh, um, well,” Nils stammered. “I’ve got official business with my partner. You know Jordan Bachar, don’t you?”
It was strange seeing my typical boisterous and confident partner so flustered in the beauty’s presence.
She inhaled and fluttered her long eyelashes. “Mm hmm. We go way back.”
I stepped away, smiling. “Actually, business can wait. Like I said, it’s been a long day.”
Nils grabbed my arm. “Wait.”
Sandra huffed. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, Nils, I rescind the invitation.” She flipped her long red locks over her shoulder and marched off into the supper club.
“You better go attend to that,” I said, grinning.
“You did this on purpose. Trying to give me the slip.”
“I told you, Nils. I just want to go home and take a shower.” It wasn’t a complete lie because I really did need a shower.
“You promise you’re not gonna go do some off-beat job for Magnus without letting me know about it?”
I nodded. “Promise.”
This also wasn’t a lie because I was truly finished with Magnus—he just didn’t know it yet. I would meet him at eight o’clock and tell him it was over. He could expose my magic if he felt compelled. But I wouldn’t work for him anymore. And I wouldn’t let him harm my mother. That part would be more difficult to manage since the man—or whatever he really was—had some remarkable magic.
Nils glanced into the supper club, then back to me.
“You better go after her. She doesn’t seem like the type to wait around too long.”
Without another word, he jogged down the red carpet through the double doors into Palmer’s.
I walked away feeling lighter and more hopeful that things might just be okay. And for that short promenade back to the estate, everything was okay.
CHAPTER 10
At the estate, I ran past the grand parlor where my mother was apparently having a social gathering. Perfumes and fragrances streaming from the elaborate bouquets were a sharp contrast to the grit and sweat oozing from me.
“Jordan!” My mother’s voice echoed behind me as my boots hit the first steps of the grand marble staircase.
I regretted not taking the extra two minutes to go around to the back entrance. I stopped and turned around to see the lovely, angelic vision of Charity Bachar standing in the bright hallway, glittering in her silvery gown of jewels.
“Hi,” I murmured.
“You’re late,” she said, sounding a bit tight.
“For what?”
She rested her hands on her slender waist and pouted with her rosebud lips. Though she was in her early forties, she looked more like my sister than my mother. “My fundraiser for the left-bank orphanage. I texted you a reminder this morning.”
“Oh, I was really busy today.” I had seen her text come in, but I was too caught up in the craziness of everything else.
“Well, you’re here now. So get cleaned up and come down to join us. Dinner starts in fifteen minutes,” she said, turning away.
“But … I have some business to wrap up,” I argued.
“Fifteen minutes,” she repeated.
Out of all of her events, this one was closest to her heart, and I couldn’t let her down. I’d go to the dinner for appearance’s sake, make a good excuse to leave the table, and go meet with Magnus at eight o’clock.
I darted up the stairs, taking two at a time, and ran straight to my bathroom, where I quickly disrobed and jumped into the hot shower. The stream of water was the most refreshing and restorative feeling for my worn out, dirt-caked body. My hair required two full shampoo rinses to get out the muck. I dried off and found a simple black pantsuit and comfortable shoes, then pulled my hair back into a high bun. There wasn’t time for a full face of makeup, so I slapped on some red lipstick, tucked my baton device into my waistband, then dashed down to the dining hall.
Mother sat at the head of the thirty-person table with an empty seat next to her reserved for me. I detected a flash of disappointment when she saw my outfit. The other guests were decked out in gorgeous gowns and sparkled like holiday lights. I just wanted to go unnoticed, but I stood out among this crowd, as usual. I scurried over to the empty seat, hoping none of the women would see me, but that would be like not noticing a comet shooting across a black night sky. These women missed nothing.
My mother whispered through a smile, “Why didn’t you wear the red dress I had set out for you?”
Disappointing Charity Bachar was like biting into a sour grape. I held her delicate hand and kissed her fingers. “I’m sorry, but I really do have business I must attend to and I can’t stay long. It concerns the wellbeing of the
entire city of Mysterium, otherwise you know I’d be delighted to wear anything you picked out for me.”
Her pale blue eyes glistened and she gave me a genuine smile that time. “Okay, my love. I understand. You have important things to do now. Following in your grandfather’s footsteps. I’m so proud of you, my little buttercup.”
As soon as the ladies were deep in conversation about some fancy new dress shop on Rossmore, I checked my phone. It was five minutes to eight. I squeezed my mother’s shoulder, then quietly slipped away unnoticed by the other guests, who were too busy yammering on and on about how the shop owner should run her business.
I walked down the hall toward the administrative section of the grand estate and knocked on Magnus’s door.
“Enter,” he called out.
I entered his office.
“Close the door,” he said, standing in front of his desk like a menacing shadow.
I shut the door, and then a burst of heat threw me backwards against the heavy wood, slamming my head against the frame. I crumpled to the ground, my entire body rippling with shockwaves of pain. Before I could figure out what was happening, Magnus had me by the scruff of my collar, hoisting me up against the bookshelves so that one of the edges pressed into the nape of my neck. Was he levitating me? And why wasn’t my magic protecting me?
“Put me down, you heathen!” I shouted, kicking at him.
He released his grip. I dropped to the hard floor, rolling my ankle. Magnus stood towering over me.
“You assume I’m playing games, Jordan,” he snarled.
“I think you’re using some serious unsanctioned black magic,” I spat as I carefully stood up.
Magnus grabbed my arm and dug his fingers into my muscle. “You can’t botch an assignment, then ignore me all day.”
I yanked my arm away. “I have a job and an obligation to the Jade Division.”
Magnus’s panther eyes bored into me. “You have an obligation to Mysterium’s high council. And more importantly, to your family. To the Bachar name.”