Forging Hephaestus (Villains' Code Book 1)

by Drew Hayes

  “Sadly, no,” Wade said. “Like all apprentices, she’ll be expected to tag along and learn at your side. Speaking of, you remember we have one next Wednesday, right?”

  “Unfortunately. Remember when being a villain was all about wild nights and brawls in the street?”

  “Yes. I also remember being confined in a cell under so much security I could scarcely move,” Wade reminded him.

  “I didn’t say it was all perfect, but now, I swear, we do more meetings and slideshows than we do at my office job.” Ivan shook his head. “I wasn’t built for this side of the business.”

  “Yet you continue doing an impeccable job. Chin up; if nothing else, I imagine your new apprentice will add some of the old excitement back into your life.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, and why I didn’t want one in the first place.” Ivan leaned back in the chair, lazily holding his second BLT. “Honestly, a small part of me hopes I have to kill her. The other option is actually teaching her, which seems far more dangerous. I’m pretty fond of our world, but the last thing it needs is a disciple of Fornax.”

  “Fornax has been dead for over a decade,” Wade said, crossing his slender hands in his lap. “Tori will be a disciple of Ivan. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Let’s just hope that’s not worse.”

  Chapter 4

  Tori watched the streets crawl by, marveling at how impressively identical each of the homes were. Certainly, there were minor variations in design or decoration, but it was abundantly clear that each of the houses had been constructed from the same central design. She’d been to places like this before, usually on a quick burglary run to scrounge up money for components, and every time it overwhelmed her with an indescribable sense of horror. How could these people be so content to spin about aimlessly, like cogs in one of her earlier inventions? It boggled the mind, even one as impressive as hers.

  The driver, a muscular man who had said nothing since she was led into his car that morning, turned left, bringing them into a different subdivision. It had taken a few days to get everything settled, but she was finally making the big move out to her new digs. She’d kept quiet about her dislike of the situation; the whole mess had apparently come about from how much she’d been dragging her heels in the first place. Plus, any place to stay was probably better than that pork processing plant she’d been kept in. It was nice not to be dead, and while she’d have much rather learned from Doctor Mechaniacal, Fornax wasn’t a horrid consolation prize.

  Except that he wasn’t Fornax—Doctor Mechaniacal had been adamant about that point. It was a name she was never to speak aloud, to avoid thinking about if at all possible. Fornax had to be dead for Ivan, her teacher, to have any sort of life. Failing his training might result in death, but spilling his big secret would result in the sorts of punishments she’d rather die than endure. The way Doctor Mechaniacal had so coldly explained what was waiting for her if she slipped up still sent a shiver down her spine.

  There a slight bump as the SUV turned off the street and pulled into the open driveway. It was adjacent to another house, one that was just like all the others. Completely indistinguishable in any way... except that one of the world’s most notorious villains lived there. Tori felt her opinion of these neighborhoods rise slightly; there was something to be said for camouflage that let one blend with the herd.

  Ivan stood on the porch, waving with a careful smile. It was smart, not appearing too happy about her arrival. After all, her cover story meant she was closer to a burden than a blessing. If he’d been overjoyed, that wouldn’t have fit properly. Tori’s opinion of Ivan was going up too; the man clearly had practice blending in. Or, she supposed, he was just unhappy to see her and didn’t mind letting it show through.

  With a grunt, Tori hauled her suitcase out of the back. Everything she needed was already up in the prepared apartment, but it wouldn’t do to have her arrive without baggage. Tori had the feeling this wasn’t the first time Doctor Mechaniacal had orchestrated something like this. She doubted it was even within his first hundred.

  Despite the early hour, several of Ivan’s neighbors were out. Some were mowing their lawns, others trimming hedges, a few even tending to well-kept flower beds, but all of them were clearly outside for the same reason: to get a look at Ivan’s new tenant. For the most fleeting of moments, Tori was tempted to greet her “uncle” with a kiss on the lips, just to cause a stir. She resisted because she realized the momentary humor wouldn’t be worth the complications it would create, and because she suspected Ivan would just dodge if she tried. Years of being “dead” aside, he was a legend for a reason.

  “Tori,” Ivan greeted as she drew near the porch. He reached down and took the suitcase from her, then pulled her in for a one-sided hug. It was as awkward as an actual embrace between distant family members, which sold the ruse well.

  “Uncle Ivan,” Tori replied. “Good to see you again.”

  “And you. Come on inside, let’s get you settled in.” Ivan opened his front door and held it for her as she stepped through the entrance.

  Tori’s first thought was to marvel at how mundane the foyer and living room were: a few pieces of bric-a-brac, some pictures on the wall, and a reasonably-sized television sitting across from a worn sofa. Comfortable and lived-in, the house had the kind of homey aura she’d never seen a fake dwelling accurately replicate… which meant, most likely, that it wasn’t a fake at all. This was where Ivan laid his head—a head that would be at the top of the capes’ hunting lists if they knew it was still on his shoulders.

  Behind her, she heard the door shut as Ivan walked in and set her suitcase on the ground. Then came the sound of deadbolts being locked into place, followed by a few mumbled words that she couldn’t quite make out. Magic, probably. No one, at least no one who talked to the public, entirely knew where Fornax drew his powers from, but they were obviously magical in origin. Tori turned around to see Ivan running his thumb along the seam between the door and the wall before he turned and faced her.

  “Want something to drink?”

  “I’d love a beer.”

  Ivan nodded. “Fine, just don’t let the neighbors see you drinking anything. You’re supposed to be here to get clean, remember?”

  “I’ll keep any drinking inside the walls with the blinds shut,” Tori promised.

  “Do that. And grab a seat.” Ivan walked off into the kitchen, and Tori slid into an overstuffed green chair that had probably belonged to Ivan when he first got out on his own. She was surprised he’d managed to hold on to it this long—usually “bachelor décor” was the first thing to go when a man settled down. Ivan might not be married at the moment, but he seemed too put together to have lived so long as a bachelor.

  Ivan came back from the kitchen with a cold beer in a bright orange koozie and a glass of iced tea. He handed her the bottle, allowing her to see that the koozie was from the “6th Annual Green Terrace Block Grill-Out.” Tori twisted off the cap and kept her snickering to a minimum.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Tori. I’ve never had an apprentice before. The guild considers me to have a ‘poor temperament’ for teaching, which is probably why they let Wade pitch me as your instructor to begin with: they think I’ll kill you and save them the trouble.” Ivan took a draw from his glass of tea then took a seat on the arm of the couch, directly across from Tori. “I’m not telling you that to be mean, I’m just letting you know up front that I’ll be making up a lot of this as I go along. I promised to teach you and I will, but you might have to bear with me as I chart the course. So, all of that said, let’s start at the top priority for every guild member: tell me what you’ve learned about the code.”

  “The code is the slang term for the Villain’s Code of Conduct, a document put together by the guild founders at its creation. It serves the purpose of keeping the capes from getting too aggravated by or interested in our activities, making sure that we never escalate to an all-out war with the superhero
es of the world.” Tori took a celebratory sip of her beer, feeling very confident in the answer she’d given.

  “Textbook accurate, and also overall worthless,” Ivan said. “The code is about survival: pure and simple. Some of it is to keep the capes off our asses, sure, but just as much is there to keep us from killing each other. For example, do you know why any villain planning to rob a building has to clear it with the guild first?”

  “To be sure it’s not a high priority for any of the superheroes or government agencies. If we accidently target one of their bases, it could bring down a lot of heat.”

  “Wrong. It’s to make sure none of us, or the capes, have any friends or family in that location. If a villain acts without approval and accidently kills some other villain’s sister, now we’ve got the start of a blood feud that’s going to leave us with lots of dead bodies and more capes up our asses than we know what to do with,” Ivan told her.

  “You said you’d also want to make sure not to kill a cape’s family. How would you even know if they had any in the building? Their identities are secret.”

  Ivan snorted then tried to play it off as a cough. He kept reminding himself that Tori was new; she’d been working off the public perception of how things functioned her entire life. “We know who pretty much every superhero is in their downtime. Between Wade’s tech, some well-placed spells, and cell phone cameras, it’s nearly impossible not to figure out who someone is under their mask.”

  “Then shouldn’t you be targeting their friends and family? I mean, I’m not saying killing is great or anything, but isn’t that the whole point of taking hostages?”

  “And see, thinking like that is exactly why the code exists: to protect villains from themselves, and from taking actions they haven’t thought all the way through.” Ivan swigged a deep gulp of his tea. “Ever hear of a villain named Orbicorb?”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell,” Tori admitted.

  “Wouldn’t expect it to. He was on the scene in the early days, same as Doc and me. Found out the secret identity of a small-time cape, and since there was no code or guild to stop him, Orbicorb took the guy’s family hostage. Things went south, and he wound up killing the whole lot—wife and all three children. Know what happened next?”

  “I’m going to take wild swing and say the cape killed your friend?”

  “First off, he was a work acquaintance, not a friend. Secondly, you’re right, but that was only the beginning. The guy went mad with grief, found Orbicorb, and tortured him for weeks before finally putting him out of his misery. Then he went after every known associate of Orbicorb’s, down to the last toady and minion, and killed them too. In the end, we had to form a team specifically to bring him down, and he took a few more of us with him before he went. The lesson here, my young apprentice, is that if you take on a person with powers and leave them with nothing to lose, you have just stuck yourself in a whole wet mess of shit. That’s why we have rules about clearing locations with the guild. That’s why we have the code.”

  “Got it, code is super important. No breaky.” Tori let herself show a half-smile as she finished her beer. Ivan could be a little scary when he got serious. Even if she hadn’t known about all the power he was concealing, his demeanor alone would have had her defenses up.

  “The code is the most important part of the villains’ guild; it’s the entire reason we’re able to have a guild at all. Not all of us are traditional criminals; some of us just feel like we should be allowed more freedom with our powers than the law permits. At the end of the day, we’re able to live together because we all follow the rules and keep our heads down. It’s our constitution, our commandments, and our credo all rolled together.” Ivan set his glass down and made sure he had Tori’s eye for this next part, as it was likely the information most apt to keep her alive. “And, if you were wondering, the capes never get their hands on code-breakers. We keep our own house clean.”

  “For villains, you sure do have a lot of rules,” Tori said. She’d taken his meaning just fine, but she refused to back down by saying something submissive.

  “There are plenty of metas out there breaking the law and living however they choose; this frequently ends with them dead or in jail. We might have rules, but we also have longer lifespans and the ability to go outside. I’d say it’s a good trade-off.”

  “I’ll admit that you guys do seem to have your act pretty well together.” Tori shook the empty bottle in her hand. “Another?”

  “Nope, you’ll need your wits about you,” Ivan replied, rising from the arm of the couch. “Now that you understand the importance of the code, you’re going to be learning it inside and out. I want you as familiar with that document as one of the founders who had to fight over what went into it.”

  “Oh come on, I thought weekends were going to be battle training,” Tori said, moving out of her own seat as well.

  “The rest of them will be, but I’ve always thought that if I had a student, the first thing I would do is drill the code into their head until they said it in their sleep. This weekend and future weekday afternoons are going to be spent reviewing it until I’m satisfied. Then we’ll move on to more practical discussions.”

  “Afternoons? Does that mean I get the days to myself?”

  “Absolutely not. You get your evenings and that’s it,” Ivan told her. “We’ll talk about your weekdays tomorrow, once I finish up the details with Doctor Mechaniacal. Be assured, though, you’re going to be under constant observation.”

  “I can really feel the love in this apprenticeship already,” Tori said.

  “You’re not dead yet. That’s about as loving as the guild can get. Now let’s get you a copy of the code to look over.” Ivan walked over to his bookshelf, hands skimming across thick, leather-bound books that Tori had initially assumed were just decoration. As he let his hand dance along the spines, he nearly hit a small picture at the edge of one of the shelves. It was too far away to make out well, but Tori was pretty certain she saw three people and a beach within the photo. He stared at it for a long moment, and then spoke.

  “There is one more thing to discuss before we start. You’ll figure this out soon enough anyway, so I might as well tell you now: I have two children that I get custody of every other weekend. You are never going to meet them, see them, or hear their voices. I understand that what we have here is not a completely voluntary arrangement, and I’m prepared to deal with the consequences of that. If you decide to try and kill me to escape from the guild, so be it.”

  Ivan turned away from the bookshelf and stared at her. His normal eyes were gone, and in their place were the dark orbs with the blood-red symbols in the center. Tori found herself overcome with the urge to look away but refused to let her neck turn or her eyes waver. Ivan was trying to scare her, and while it was working, she could still show him that she was able to stand her ground.

  “I want to be very clear about this, Apprentice. What we have is between you and me, no one else. If you try to harm my children, if you injure them in any way—mentally or physically—I’m going to kill you.” Ivan’s voice was as empty as the darkness behind the symbols in his eyes. “I won’t take any joy in it, I won’t feel any glory from it, but I’ll still do it. And much as I might dislike it, I am still very good at killing people. Do we understand each other?”

  “Crystal clear.”

  “Good.” Ivan turned back to the bookshelf and kept skimming the titles. “Go ahead and lug your suitcase up to the garage apartment and make sure everything is in order. We’ll start when you get back.”

  Tori said nothing; she merely grabbed the suitcase and headed out the door, back into the world of sunshine and nosey neighbors. It was a sharp contrast to the half-lit living room filled with threats, intrigue, and one of the most powerful villains to have walked the earth.

  * * *

  The apartment was surprisingly nice, for having been constructed in only a few days. A bed took up most of the room, but there was also a
small desk with a computer, a mini-fridge already stocked with sodas, a microwave, and a work table. The last component was the most important one to Tori, and she knew Doctor Mechaniacal had put it in for her specially. True, there were no high tech tools to play with, nor would she be allowed to make anything too dangerous while in this civilian area, but the work bench represented a space to create. It was a show of respect, scientist to scientist.

  As she rested on her bed, a copy of the code lying next to her, Tori wondered when she would find time to begin a new project. Ivan had kept his word and drilled her relentlessly about the code all afternoon, quizzing her constantly with both technical details and hypothetical scenarios. It wasn’t like the document was especially long or complicated. It was just important, in a way that was clearly very vital to Ivan.

  Tori slid off the edge of her bed and padded over to her computer, jiggling the mouse to bring it out of sleep mode. With a few quick keystrokes, she’d brought up Fornax’s Wikipedia page. There was a picture of him, blood-red mask concealing every inch of his face save for those dark eyes with the blood-red runes. He never had any sort of official costume; usually he just wore dark, sturdy clothing. Only the mask and the eyes were constants. Those and the power.

  Scrolling down, she skimmed through his biography. Most of it was stuff that she already knew: his early career had started a few decades after the scientist who would become Professor Quantum accidently introduced new elements to the world and changed the fundamental laws of the universe. Fornax came on the scene after capes were already entrenched and were thought to be unstoppable. In his first outing, he took down three of them; one was so mentally scarred by the experience that they quit the job altogether. When the press saw his eyes and the red glow that emanated from his limbs, some reporter compared his destruction to that of a black hole and named him after one of the few that wasn’t just number and letters: Fornax. Only later on would smarter minds point out that this was the name of an actual galaxy, but by that point, the name had already stuck.