by John Corwin
"I promise to keep it a secret."
He nodded. "Good." Glanced at the closed door once more, and back to me. "Several years ago, one of my students wrote a dissertation—"
"Wait, a dissertation? Isn't that way above elementary level?"
His lips pressed tight. "Let's just say the story I'm about to tell you had political repercussions for my career."
"Oh." I felt bad for asking.
Zagg continued his story. "My former student wrote a dissertation behind the origins and mysteries of the first fraternity. During his research, he came to me several times, very excited about his findings. One night, he showed up, a copy of his dissertation in hand, and scared out of his wits. He told me people were after him. He said the Primus and Chancellor themselves had, through proxies, told him to cease work on his dissertation and find another subject. He told me the dissertation panelists were refusing to assign him a date for review."
"Why would bigwigs care about a paper on fraternities? Were they afraid people would find out they were wild and crazy in college and kick them out of their positions?"
Zagg shook his head. "It wasn't anything so simple. The student left the paper in my office for safekeeping. When I came the next morning, I discovered someone had tripped or disabled the wards on my office, and all that remained of the dissertation was a pile of dust."
"They burned it?"
"No, they transmuted it to dust so it couldn't be magically reconstituted."
"Why didn't they just steal it? Seems kind of dramatic to turn it to dust."
The historian offered a wry smile. "For one thing, if I'd put a tracker on it, I could have found those responsible. I think whoever did it wanted to send a crystal clear message."
I cringed. "Stop writing or end up like this?"
He nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Transmuting paper to dust is no simple matter. Whoever did it was very powerful. I recommended a safer subject for my student. He ended up writing a lame dissertation about the founding of the library instead. Passed with flying colors."
I raised an eyebrow and wrinkled my forehead for good measure. "Uh, so what's the point of telling me all this?"
"Always make a copy."
I laughed.
He smiled and continued. "I was curious to find out why important people would care about the crackpot theories of one doctoral candidate. While his paper read a lot like something bred from the wild fantasies of a kid who reads too many comic books, I was able to confirm many of his findings. At that point I had to admit his paper held water."
I still didn't understand where Zagg was going with this. "Are we still talking about fraternities here?"
"As a matter of fact, we're talking about the very first one on campus. But it was more than a fraternity. It was a secret order."
"Spit it out already," I said in an exasperated tone. "The suspense is killing me."
"Tiberius founded the Illuminati."
"Oh," I said, thinking that should have been my first guess. Unfortunately, I would never make a good detective. "To counter the Templars, right?"
Now it was Zagg's turn to look confused. "What do the Templars have to do with this?" he said, eyes flicking toward the door as if the chancellor and a squad of dissertation panelists might burst through at any moment and throw us in the dungeons.
I wasn't sure what I could tell Zagg. He seemed like a really cool guy now that we'd gotten past the stage where he'd tried to kill me and all, but I still didn't know him that well. On the other hand, what if he could help me find the Cyrinthian Rune? He trusted me with this secret, so maybe I could trust him with some of mine. "I've met a member of the Illuminati."
The historian's eyes flared. "What? Who?"
"Look, I think my secret is bigger than yours."
"Are you bragging about the size of your secret?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged. "Not bragging. Just telling you how it is. I want you to promise to keep it to yourself."
He nodded. "I promise."
"Pinky swear?" I held out my pinky.
He blew out a breath and hooked his little finger in mine. "You are one strange man, Justin." A sigh. "Pinky swear."
I gave him the lowdown on my conversation with MacLean, leaving out his name for the time being. I told him about the rune and that the Conroys, Bigglesworth, and worst of all, Daelissa, were willing to kill anyone who got in their way.
Zagg dropped onto his stool, staring blankly at the floor. "Moore's lover, Lissa, was—is a Seraphim? And she created the Templars?" He seemed speechless for several moments. "These facts change everything. This knowledge would rock the very foundation of Overworld history."
I laid a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I'll be more than happy for you to spring the news on the world, but not now. Not while the Conroys and Daelissa are hunting for a relic that could allow them to achieve world domination."
"It sounds so dramatic when you say it that way." He stood. Nodded. "I'm your man. If Moore and Tiberius hid a relic somewhere on campus, I can probably triangulate it with copious amounts of historical research."
"Could you use an assistant?" I asked, the perfect candidate in mind.
"Definitely." He nodded his head toward the spinning ASE. "I've got hundreds of those to go through. Far more than I can do on my own. Who do you have in mind?"
"You met him in the forest the first night we, um, met," I said. "He was the one in the gray suit."
"I remember him. Odd fellow."
"Yeah, well that's because he's a golem. His name is Cinder."
"A golem?" Zagg's eyebrows rose. "He looks so real."
Feeling buoyed by optimism, I added, "If you can even get a general location of the rune, my Illuminati acquaintance can help us find it. He has a special ability for seeing things most of us can't."
Zagg opened his mouth, no doubt to ask me more about this special ability, but seemed to rein himself in. "Sounds good. I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
By the time I reached the cafeteria, lunch was almost over. I stood in the passageway outside the dining hall as a noisy mob of well-fed students poured from within, while my stomach rumbled angrily.
"Hi, Justin," said a familiar voice. I turned and saw Ivy grinning brightly at me, Morgana by her side. She held out a paper bag to me. "Morgana and I saved you some lunch since you were late." She made a tutting sound. "I went through a lot of trouble to sneak away today, and you didn't come.""I enjoyed talking to you," Morgana said to Ivy. She looked tired. I wondered if the other kids had been teasing her.
"Thanks, Ivy," I said, taking the bag. "This is really thoughtful of you." Somehow, I had to separate her from Morgana so I could talk to her about saving Mom.
"Aw, well, Morgana thought of it." She shrugged. "And then we talked about clothes." A look of wonder came over her face. "I really enjoyed it. I never get to choose what to talk about with the grownups."
"We both like purple clothes," Morgana added. "Especially dresses."
"Out of the way, freak," said a burly guy close to my age as he shoved past Morgana, knocking her over.
White hot anger flared in me. Before I could react, Ivy grabbed him by the arm. She obviously didn't have super strength, because the bully dragged her a couple of feet before turning to face her, a sneer on his face. "Get off me you idiot!"
Ivy's face turned to stone. "You will apologize to my friend," she said.
"Make me," he growled, as fur started to sprout from his face. His voice turned mocking, as if speaking to a child. "Or do you need to go get a Conroy to hold your hand, little baby?"
Ivy seemed to muse the question. "I think I'll handle you myself." Without so much as retrieving a wand, she slammed a palm to his chest. Light flashed between her hand and his body. The lycan howled, flew back, and slammed into the wall hard enough to knock loose several portraits.
Murmurs went up from the assembled students.
"I don't like bullies," Ivy said, her lips curling back. She m
ade a slapping motion and sent the lycan tumbling down the hall. Her hand clenched the air and jerked. The lycan slid back toward her. She leaned over his prostrate form. "I'll make sure you never bully anyone again." Ivy raised a fist and made a pounding motion. The granite stone to the left of the student's head cracked, even though her fist never made contact. She made the motion again, and the invisible force pulverized the stone to dust. Teeth bared, her face red with rage, Ivy clasped both hands together and held them over the lycan's head. "Never again!" she screamed.
I blurred forward, caught her arms. "Ivy, don't!" I said. "Please, don't."
She seemed to snap from a trance. Looked up at me. Tears burst into her eyes, and she slumped. "I hate them, Justin. I hate the way they look at me. I hate the things they say about me." She gripped my shirt, looking up at me with tear-stained eyes. "I hate them!"
A crowd of students surrounded us. The lycan scrambled to his feet and plowed through them in his haste to escape. I heard someone whispering about how Ivy wasn't normal. Heard another say we were all freaks. Another asked why we were hanging out with a traitor.
I caught Morgana's tear-filled eyes.
"Show's over," I said to the crowd. "Get out of here!"
The crowd dispersed rather quickly, probably concerned Ivy might lose it again and kill them all.
"I don't like bullies either," Morgana said, wiping her face.
I led them down a quiet hall. Ivy took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her face could have been made of ice.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She smiled brightly. "I'm fine. I guess I need to work on my temper."
"You didn't seem fine. Don't repress your emotions, Ivy. It'll only make things worse when they break free again."
"Oh, that silly boy just made me mad," she said again, bouncing on her toes.
Ivy was pulling a Shelton on me, I realized, except she didn't hide her emotions with a gruff exterior, but fake sunshine. I turned to the other girl. "Are you okay, Morgana?"
She nodded.
"Do they bully you a lot?"
She looked away from me, her protective shell coming up.
"I was bullied a lot in school, too," I said. "I know what it's like."
Her eyes widened. "You were?"
"Football players beat him up," Ivy said in hushed voice. "Big mean boys."
"That's terrible," Morgana said. "Did—did your parents…" she trailed off as if unable to finish the sentence.
"Did my parents what?" I sighed. Morgana and Ivy were going to drive me crazy if they kept repressing everything. "My parents split up," I said. "My mom is an Arcane, and my dad, well, he's a Daemos."
"He's not our dad, Justin," Ivy said in a fierce voice. "It's a lie, a lie, a lie!"
Morgana and I gave her an uneasy look.
"Unless you know for sure who our dad is, can we just pretend he is?" I said, exasperated. "I mean, it's really cool if you think about it. We're the best of both worlds."
Ivy pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes at me. "It's cool to be half evil?"
"No, but it means we have the super powers of both sides. Magic and super strength."
"I don't know…" she trailed off, eyes losing focus. "I'm not super strong."
"But wouldn't it be cool if you could pick up bullies without magic?" I asked, wondering if I might have my foot in the door on her dislike of our father.
"I suppose." She toed the floor. "Whatever. We'll pretend he's our father so Morgana doesn't get confused."
I fought back a smile. She'd given me an inch. I wondered if I could take it a mile.
"I guess my problems aren't as bad as yours," Morgana said. "I mean, at least my parents love each other, even if they are traitors."
I stared at her for a moment. "Traitors?"
"Traitors?" Ivy said an instant later. "What did they do? Tell me!"
Morgana nodded, a tear breaking free from an eyelash to spill down her cheek. "They were spying for the Red Syndicate. They're in jail now."
"I'm so sorry, Morgana." I touched her shoulder, unsure how to console her.
She flung herself against me, thin arms clinging tight around my waist, head pressed to my stomach, her body shaking with sobs. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just hugged her back, wondering if this was what it felt like to be a parent consoling a hurt child.
Ivy touched Morgana's hand. "Everyone treats you bad because of what your parents did?"
Morgana nodded. "But I know my parents aren't bad people. I just know it."
My sister's eyes met mine. "I know how that feels." She seemed on the verge of saying something, when her eyes went wide. "Oh, no. I'm really late." She looked around frantically. "They'll be looking for me. Oh, no!"
"Wait!" I said. "I need to talk to you about—"
"No time, no more time," she said in a slightly crazed voice. "I can run. Maybe blink." She stood on tiptoe and kissed me on the cheek. "Take care of Morgana, brother. She's one of us." With that, she literally blinked away, appearing at the end of the hall, about a hundred feet away. Blew me a kiss, and vanished again.
"Your sister is so cool," Morgana said in an awed voice.
Son of a— I sighed, looking back at Morgana. "Are you going to be okay?"
She shook her head. "I can't even stay in my dorm room. The girls make fun of me. I sneak out so I don't have to be near them. You're my only friend now. My other friend got sick, and I don't know if she'll be okay again."
"What happened to your parents?" I asked.
"A man came for them," she said. "They ran away and left me with my aunt. They told me they'd be back, and they loved me. But the mean man, he wouldn't give up. He found them and arrested them."
"Who was this man?" I asked.
She trembled. "I don't remember his first name, just his last." She gave me a hopeful look. "Can you make him give my parents back?"
"I don't know. But I have friends in the Templars who might be able to help."
Her eyes brightened hope. "Please, do."
"Give me the name of the man, and I'll have my friends ask him where they are," I said.
She put a finger to her chin, narrowing her eyes in thought. "I think his name was Shelton."
Chapter 33
I shoved Shelton against the wall. "How many lives have you ruined?" I shouted. I snarled, released him, and paced across the warded room where we'd discussed our battle plans the night before.
Bella watched from a seat near the door, her eyes concerned, but made no move to interfere.
"I wasn't trying to ruin lives, damn it!" Shelton punched the wall, and winced. "I was making a living." He shrugged even as he favored his knuckles. "I brought criminals to justice. Nothing wrong with that."
"How many people did you kidnap?" I asked, a burning coal of outrage simmering in my stomach. "How many mothers and fathers and siblings and girlfriends, did you take away from their loved ones?"
"I didn't kidnap anyone, Justin. I apprehended lawbreakers. Fugitives."
"Justin, these people committed crimes," Bella said, her voice soft. "Harry didn't do anything wrong."
I ran a hand through my hair. Sighed, and stared blankly at the floor for a moment. Maybe I was being unreasonable. Maybe knowing Morgana and identifying with her situation was eating me up inside. Now I was taking out my frustrations on a friend. "Was the evidence solid?" I asked in a lowered voice.
"I'm a bounty hunter, damn it," Shelton said, "not a detective. Looking for evidence isn't my job."
"Does the Overworld convict them by a jury trial?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yeah, the tribunal does." He cleared his throat. "Although, I don't think Zagg's girl has gone to trial yet. Neither have Morgana's parents."
"They've been in prison all this time without a trial?" Bella asked, concern on her face.
"Again, not my job," Shelton said. "Who the hell do you think I am, the Primus?" He threw up his hands. "Holy friggin cow patties, people. Maybe you're
confusing me with, oh, I dunno, God?"
"Who else have you arrested that I should know about?" I asked. "Before I stumble across another poor broken little child whose parents were taken away by the notorious Harry Shelton."
"Gee, it sounds so much better when you put it like that," Shelton said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't intentionally arrest people for kicks and giggles. My contact—" he stopped mid-sentence, mouth open. His face blanched, and he tried to speak again, his mouth apparently warring with his brain for control. After several seconds of fighting, he dropped into a chair. "Crap. Who am I kidding?"
"What is it, Harry?" Bella asked, rising from her chair as if ready to fly to him if need be.
"I'm such a liar." He swallowed hard. "I can't do this anymore."
I was sorely tempted to pile on in agreement with that assessment, but kept my mouth shut by sheer willpower.
Shelton finally continued after another long pause. "Aerianas." His throat sounded dry. His voice cracked.
The name sounded terrible familiar. And then it hit me. Vallaena had said that name, confronting Shelton with it, and threatening to expose him several months ago right after I'd first met her. So much had been going on at the time—hellhounds trying to kill me, Aunt Vallaena trying to assign herself as my protector, and Underborn, evil assassin that he was, trying to kill my father. Ah, the good old days.
I turned back to Shelton. "So? Who is she?"
Shelton took a long time to answer, his face buried in his hands. Finally he said, "I was in love with her."
My mouth dropped open. Harry Shelton, romantic? Inconceivable.
He continued. "When I first started the bounty hunter business, I was pretty bad at it. So I tailed other hunters, watching how they did things, and eventually fell into a partnership with an old-timer named Hooch. He was amazing." Shelton sat up, his eyes filling with something like affection or respect. "I spent two years with him, learning the ropes and steadily improving. Then Hooch got a tip and a lead on a big fish. The holy friggin grail of fugitives."
"Who?" Bella asked, leaning on the edge of her seat.
"Vadaemos Slade."
My skin went cold at the name. "I didn't realize you ever went after him."