Cloak Games_Blood Cast

by Jonathan Moeller

  But I pushed the thought out of my head and focused on the Splintered Mask, and each of the illusionary duplicates began doing something different. I made one walk, I made another drop to the dusty floor and start doing pushups, and a third started to run laps.

  “How…are you doing that?” said Vander.

  I shrugged. “Compared to holding a Cloak spell in place, this is easy.” I lifted my left hand and called a fireball over my fingers. “And I can even cast other spells while I’m using it.”

  “When you said you were good at illusion magic,” said Vander, “you weren’t joking.”

  “Nope.” Another idea occurred to me, and I released the Splintered Mask and cast it again. This time I only projected one duplicate of myself, and as I concentrated, I realized that I could see through the duplicate’s illusionary eyes.

  Holy shit. It was like having a remote controlled mobile camera.

  “Are you looking through the projection’s eyes?” said Vander.

  “Yeah,” I said. It was giving me a headache, though the ache subsided when I closed my real eyes.

  “That is…quite advanced,” said Vander.

  “Still easier than a Cloak spell,” I said. I opened my eyes and released the illusion.

  “If you spent a century and a half in an Eternity Crucible practicing the Cloak spell,” said Vander, “then, yes, it would seem easier.”

  “Anything else to teach me?” I said. “Trust me, you’ll never find a more willing and enthusiastic student.”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Vander. “I was only ever a mediocre wizard, and the spells I know are already known to you or would be of no use to you. I would teach you bloodcasting, but I’m afraid that’s an inborn talent that you don’t possess.”

  I looked him in the eye. “Thank you. That’s…well, that’s the nicest an Elf has ever been to me.”

  Vander inclined his head. “I support the High Queen now, but I don’t approve of what Morvilind has done to you and your brother. And Russell’s a good kid. He has a brave heart.” He hesitated. “You both deserve better than the hand you’ve been dealt.”

  “Russell might, but I don’t.” I snorted. “You sound like Murdo. He says the same thing.”

  “You should listen to him,” said Vander. He hesitated. “And you should probably talk to your brother, sooner rather than later.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I rubbed my forehead and felt a little foolish. I doubted Lorenz would be able to follow us here, but nonetheless, my little tantrum had been idiotic. There was too much at stake for me to waste time in a fury. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  I headed for the door back to the safe house, and Vander followed me.

  Chapter 7: Sibling Rivalry

  We slipped into the carpeted hallway, and the chill of the air conditioning hit me like a slap in the face. I started to shiver despite my sweater and coat, and I took a moment to run through the mental exercises Murdo had taught me. After a moment, my mind relaxed enough that I no longer felt so cold, and I took a deep breath.

  “You okay?” murmured Vander.

  “Not really,” I said, “but my leg doesn’t hurt any longer.”

  The doors to the rooms that Rusk and Robert had claimed were closed, and I heard soft voices behind them. Likely Rusk and Jill and Robert and Alexandra were discussing what to do next, given that they had fallen in with a dangerous madwoman and her brother. Well, if they wanted to go, I wouldn’t stop them, but I had the beginnings of a plan in my head.

  Lorenz knew that I was on to him, which meant he had to double down and grab Russell. Else I would kill him the next time I saw him. That, in turn, meant I had to hang around Russell’s usual haunts until Lorenz showed himself, and then I would kill him. It probably would be safest for the others to wait here until Murdo and I dealt with Lorenz.

  I heard voices coming from the waiting room, and I came to a stop, listening. Vander drew breath to speak. I lifted a finger to my lips. Vander rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

  “You should talk to her,” came Murdo’s voice.

  “Well, yeah,” answered Russell. “But…it’s hard, you know? I haven’t seen or heard from her in a year, and then she walks into Mr. Vander’s clinic and starts blowing up orcs. That kind of magic…if she had been able to do that last year, those Archons wouldn't have been able to threaten us. She could have killed them all before Lord Morvilind showed up.”

  “Then it’s good she’s on your side,” said Murdo.

  “Yeah,” said Russell.

  I blinked a few times. Why was Russell confiding in Murdo? They had just met. I trusted Murdo, but why would Russell trust him? More to the point, why would Murdo trust Russell? He hadn’t known I had a brother until an hour ago.

  “But what happened to her?” said Russell.

  “I don’t know,” said Murdo. “Something did, I’m sure of it. Humans don’t have the kind of magical power that she does. We just don’t. Something happened that gave her that power, and I don’t think it was pleasant.”

  “She never told you?” said Russell.

  “No,” said Murdo. “Based on some of the things she’s said, I think it was something to do with the Inquisition. And whatever it was, it screwed up both her memory and her perception of time and pain. Occasionally she’ll say something happened a lot longer ago than it really did, and I’ve seen her forget how to do simple things from time to time. And when she’s hurt, she’ll just ignore pain that should incapacitate her.”

  I grimaced. Was I that obvious?

  “Do you think she had a stroke or something?” said Russell.

  “Stroke victims typically do not gain the ability to turn invisible and shoot fireballs,” said Murdo.

  “That’s a good point,” said Russell. “Do…do you think we can help her?”

  “Maybe,” said Murdo. “If we can. But first, we have to deal with Mr. Lorenz.”

  “Why does he want her dead?” said Russell.

  Murdo grunted. “Personal dispute. Lorenz is an ass, and when he tried to bully your sister, she punched back twice as hard. He took it personally.”

  That was true enough, though it omitted quite a bit.

  “He’s a Rebel,” said Russell.

  “Yeah,” said Murdo. “High-ranking one, too. Important enough that there’s probably a reward for his death. Pity we won’t be able to collect on it if we do kill him.”

  There was silence for a little bit.

  “How do you know he’s a high-ranking Rebel?” said Russell at last.

  “You’d better ask your sister that,” said Murdo.

  “I mean, if Nadia’s mixed up with some bad people…” said Russell.

  “She is,” said Murdo, “and so I am. But again, that’s something you should ask her, not me. I don’t have the right to tell it.” He snorted. “I don’t even have the right to be here, truth be told.”

  “Yes, you do,” said Russell. “You should tell her.”

  “Are you going to?” said Murdo.

  “Well…if I have questions that I should ask her,” said Russell, “then you’ve got things to tell her, don’t you?”

  I blinked. Did Russell and Murdo know each other already? No, that seemed unlikely. I suppose it was possible that Russell had met Rory Murdo at some point, but I couldn’t see how or when. No, it was more likely that Russell was pumping Murdo for information.

  I didn’t think that was a good idea.

  To interrupt them, I walked into the waiting room, Vander trailing after me. Russell and Murdo stood near the exit. Both men turned as I approached. Wait, both men? Russell was only sixteen. But he looked older than he had the last time I had seen him, his eyes heavier, his face quite a bit warier.

  I had done that to him, hadn’t I?

  “Hey,” I said. “Um…”

  “I think,” said Murdo, “that you and your brother should have a talk.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I looked at Russell and swallowed. “Yeah, you’re proba
bly right.” I looked back at Murdo. “But first we need to settle on a plan. Let’s talk…um, just out the door there.” I nodded at the door that led back to the warehouse yard. “We can keep watch as well.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Murdo. He nodded to Russell. “Be back in a few minutes.”

  Russell hesitated, looked at me, then at Murdo, and nodded back.

  I followed Murdo outside to the warehouse yard. It was much hotter outside, though we stood in the shade. My eyes flicked over the empty yard and the rusting chain link fence that surrounded it. There were no cars on the street, which was good.

  Then I took a deep breath and looked up at Murdo.

  “You should really talk to your brother,” said Murdo.

  “God,” I groaned. I rubbed my forehead. “I want a damned cigarette.”

  To my surprise, Murdo reached into his pocket and withdrew a carton of cigarettes and a lighter.

  “Where did you get those?” I said.

  He passed me a cigarette and flicked on the lighter. I let him light the cigarette and lifted it to my lips. It’s a terrible, terrible habit, and murder on the lungs, but sometimes the nicotine feels great. For me, at least, it soothes the nerves, and I was really wound up.

  “I bought them in New York,” said Murdo, “while you were recovering from the gunshot wounds.” I nodded and drew on the cigarette, the warmth of the smoke filling my throat and lungs. “I thought you might want one when you woke up.”

  “I’m not a regular smoker,” I said. “I don’t even like the smell all that much. But sometimes…”

  Murdo nodded. “Sometimes a man just needs to get drunk.”

  “I’m not a man. And if I drink too much I just throw up.” I blew out a cloud of smoke. “So, a cigarette to settle the nerves.”

  We stood in silence as I smoked. He didn’t light one himself. Maybe he didn’t smoke. Maybe he thought I needed the entire pack.

  “All right,” I said. “First thing. Um…my real name’s Nadia Moran, and that’s my brother Russell.”

  “I gathered as much,” said Murdo. “Let me make a few other guesses. You’re actually the shadow agent of Lord Morvilind the Magebreaker. Your brother has frostfever, and that’s the club Morvilind uses to get you to obey.”

  “Yep,” I said. “It’s been loads of fun.”

  “And Morvilind is the one who made that deal with the Forerunner,” said Murdo.

  I looked up at him. “You really, really shouldn’t repeat that. I hate Nicholas, and I’m afraid of him, but I’m way more afraid of Morvilind. And not just because I need him to cure Russell. Because Morvilind’s deal with the Forerunner could get him into a lot of trouble with the Inquisition, and if Morvilind realizes that you know, he will kill you. He’ll kill you just as easily as you could crush an empty paper cup. It will take him just as much effort, and it will bother him even less.”

  “That matches what I’ve heard of his reputation, Miss Moran,” said Murdo.

  I let out a long breath. “You can just call me Nadia, you know. It is actually my name.” I shook my head. “I mean, if you pay for a girl to stay at a secret hospital for two weeks after she gets shot, I think you can use her first name.”

  He smiled a little. “All right. Nadia.”

  “Just don’t call me that in front of Connor and his crew,” I said.

  “Obviously,” said Murdo. “What should we do now?”

  “What do you think we should do?” I said, tapping some ash from the end of the cigarette.

  “Well,” said Murdo. “I think we can get everyone except Russell and Vander home safely. Lorenz doesn’t care about them. If he’s been surveilling Vander’s clinic for a while, he probably knows who they are, but he wants to get at you and Russell is the best way to do that. For that matter, it would be foolish for him to go after either Captain Ross’s family or Rusk’s daughter.”

  I frowned. “Why? I doubt he would have scruples about that.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with scruples,” said Murdo. “Rusk is Lord Morvilind’s butler. Do you really think Lorenz wants to draw Morvilind’s attention?”

  “Heh,” I said. “No. Lorenz isn’t that stupid.”

  “And Captain Ross is one of Duke Carothrace’s men-at-arms,” said Murdo. “He probably lives in one of the apartment buildings in Madison set aside for officers and their families. Which means if Lorenz attacked their home, he’d have to deal with a lot of men-at-arms and their wives who would try to shoot him.”

  “Alexandra’s a pretty good shot,” I said, remembering when I had been masquerading as her personal assistant and she had blown off some stress by going to the shooting range.

  “And if Lorenz tried to grab Russell from your parents…” said Murdo.

  “My parents are dead,” I said. “Morvilind arranged for one of his former men-at-arms to look after Russell. Dr. James Marney.”

  “Then I bet they live in a crowded neighborhood,” said Murdo. “The sort of place where if someone fires a gun, Homeland Security shows up a few minutes later.” I nodded. “So, grabbing Russell at Vander’s clinic was Lorenz’s best bet. He brought the orcish mercenaries and the anthrophages to deal with Vander, but if he was quick, he could get in and out with Russell and back to Venomhold in two minutes. In that neighborhood, some vans wouldn’t draw any notice. It was a good plan…”

  “But then we walked into it,” I said. I felt cold, and not just from my inability to stop drawing magic. If we had been five minutes later, Lorenz would have taken Russell to Venomhold.

  “Yeah,” said Murdo. “God was on our side today.”

  “Guess so,” I said. I finished the cigarette and ground it out underneath my shoe. Murdo lit me another one, and I took it with gratitude. “So, what now?”

  “We have to kill Lorenz,” said Murdo. “Lorenz has gone too far now. He knows that if he goes back without Russell, Connor will kill him for endangering the Forerunner’s deal. To save his neck, Lorenz either has to kill you or to capture Russell. That means our best shot is to wait near Russell’s house until Lorenz shows up, and then we wipe him out.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That was my thought. I can take Lorenz…assuming his necromancer buddy doesn’t screw things up.”

  “Yes,” said Murdo, his voice distant. “His necromancer buddy. I wonder who he is.”

  I shrugged. “Must be an Archon who came along for the ride.”

  “I doubt it,” said Murdo. “The Archons won’t use necromancy. They hate it almost as much as the royalist Elves do.” He shrugged. “I suppose there are always exceptions, and if a necromancer is useful enough, the Archons would look the other way.”

  “And Nicholas wouldn’t care,” I said, letting out another cloud of smoke.

  “He would not,” said Murdo. “I wonder…”

  I frowned. “You know this necromancer?”

  “I might,” said Murdo. “Or I might have heard of him. Before I started this task for the Knight of Grayhold.” That meant Murdo had heard of the necromancer while he had still been in the Wizard’s Legion. “There were rumors of a mercenary Elven necromancer who would work for the highest bidder, a man named Vastarion. According to the stories, he was captured by the myothar…”

  “Ugh,” I said, remembering my own encounter with a myothar in the ruins of Chicago.

  “Indeed,” said Murdo. “Somehow, Vastarion managed to impress the myothar, and they taught him some of their necromantic secrets. Now he works for hire. The High Queen and the Archons both have a lot of enemies, and Vastarion will work for them…in exchange for the right price.”

  “And the Knight of Venomhold’s collection of monsters,” I said, finishing off the second cigarette, “would be the perfect place for someone like Vastarion.”

  “Probably,” said Murdo. “Likely that is where Lorenz found him and hired him.”

  “Great,” I said. “Well, it doesn’t change anything. If we kill Lorenz, that will deal with Vastarion. Mercenari
es tend not to stick around after you shoot their employer.”

  “No,” said Murdo.

  I flicked away the cigarette butt and looked at him.

  “Two is probably enough,” said Murdo.

  “It is not,” I said. “I can…” I promptly defeated my own argument by having a coughing fit. “Okay. I’m a grown woman, and I can destroy my lungs if I want…but maybe I’ve destroyed them enough for one day.”

  “Probably,” said Murdo, putting the cigarettes and the lighter away.

  I glanced at the sky. “Let’s wait until dark. Then we’ll get the others home…and we’ll need to find a place to hide Russell.”

  Murdo grunted. “Or he could come with us.”

  “What?” I said. “Why? The whole point of this is to save his life.”

  “He might be able to help us,” said Murdo.

  “How?” I said.

  “He knows how to handle himself in a crisis,” said Murdo. “Not everyone does. In a crisis, people either freeze up, or they act. He acted. The kid has seen the elephant.”

  “Elephant?” I said, looking around in surprise. The Graysworn had an elephant?

  “It’s a saying from the American Civil War,” said Murdo.

  “Was that the one where the Germans attacked Pearl Harbor?” I said. Murdo blinked. “No. It was the one where the Spanish blew up the state of Maine?”

  Yeah, my grasp of pre-Conquest history isn’t always at one hundred percent.

  “Neither,” said Murdo. “It was when the southern states seceded from the United States, and…”

  “Oh!” I said. “I remember that one. Everyone was fighting about plantations and slaves. There was this really old movie about Atlanta catching fire and this woman whose boyfriend didn’t give a damn.”

  Murdo hesitated. “Close enough.”

  I could tell he was being diplomatic.

  “Why are we talking about the Civil War?” I said.

  “We’re not,” said Murdo. “We’re talking about your brother. In the Civil War, there was a saying that if a soldier had seen combat, he had seen the elephant. People can describe an elephant to you, but you don’t know what it’s really like until you see it for yourself.”