Temper nodded and started gathering up her things. She had ensured that Justice was safely removed from the premises. He had been drugged and would be out for several hours, after which he would wake up in his office if they could manage to get him back in undetected. The Scere operatives were good at doing things like that, so Scythe imagined it would go as planned. However, the man would probably eventually remember at least a few details about the interrogation, and something told Scythe that he would be looking very hard for them. It was a good thing they were about done.
“Temper,” he said, “Be aware that Justice knows that the information was leaked about Three Reeds; they’ll probably make some changes to their plans, they might even abort it all together, if things aren’t too far along. But, if it were me…”
“Oh, Jeez, here comes something nasty,” Aorin said from her station without turning around. She reached up and hit another screen and continued typing. “Why is it that you always know exactly what the most despicable people are thinking, sometimes even better than they do? I’m telling you, it’s not right.”
“You spelled ‘gesticulate’ wrong,” Scythe said from his seat, just to harass her.
“What? Gesticulate? Where? Oh, shut up. That’s ‘germinate.’”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not.”
“How about you do your thing and I’ll do mine?” She moved her body so that it blocked his view of her screen and mumbled, “I’ll gesticulate something to you…”
He smiled and turned back to Temper and Soshia, and then froze at the way they were looking at him. Temper had an affectionate expression that made him only slightly uncomfortable, but Soshia stared at him as if he might explode spontaneously. “What?”
“You’re joking,” Soshia said in the way that she would have said, “A horn is growing out of the top of your head.”
A delighted “Ha!” escaped from Aorin, and, again without pausing or turning around, she teased, “Caught ya.” She even chortled a little under her breath.
Scythe decided to take the safest route out of the woods. “If I were Justice, I’d definitely set up a trap at Three Reeds, one at Winter and I’d lay a bunch around that bill, just to see who shows up. He’s going to want to find you, or us, and that’s an easy way to do it. That, and he’s going to get his contacts in the Scere to snoop around a bit. It will be interesting to see who shows up.”
Soshia had lost interest in the earlier distraction and became instantly the sharp professional that he highly respected. “You think he has people in the Scere?”
“Maybe not him but at least one of their members does. Of course. They couldn’t get this far and do this much damage without it,” he pointed at his display, selecting the flow chart that highlighted the most injurious actions against the Scere. “This one, here, and this one all indicate an inside connection. Probably the Mejer affair, too. The fact that we haven’t been exposed so far shows you how well you’ve hidden your tracks here. Otherwise, we’d already be shut down.”
“Almost no one knows of our operation here. A handful at most, outside of the team and they are hand picked...You are thinking about something else. You’ve got that look. What is it?”
“Well, if we had more people, you might consider taking advantage of their interest in finding us.”
“How?”
Aorin was chuckling again.
“By setting a few traps of your own.”
“Traps on the traps?”
“Traps on the traps.”
Chapter 6
In the space between memories, Scythe spoke, his hand pressing on his whirling head, “Wait. I want you to stop this.”
But, I know you enjoyed that, like you did when you showed me your mother.
“I know, but...yes, I did like seeing them again, but...” Scythe was momentarily distracted by the music, suddenly prominent in the gray mist. The song was more complex now, flowing in two different sections: a rising, achingly longing melody and a strident, moving melody. Both overlaid a subtle, unifying rhythm. He asked his younger self, “What is this music?”
It’s you, as much as you have shown me, anyway; it's how I perceive you. The boy closed his eyes and listened too, a smile gracing his calm, carefree face.
“I thought I was changing it somehow...” Scythe noticed that the lonely notes from the first time he had met the strange boy were still there, jumping forward every now and then in the music.
The boy’s eyes popped open, Oh! You are! It is your music. It is you, and it’s me, too.
“But it’s changing.”
Yes, because you are changing me. The boy gave his smile to Scythe, Thank you, Father, for your gift.
“I am not your father, and...you are not a child,” Scythe suddenly realized.
No, but I was just a little while ago, and I am still, really. Of course, I won’t be when we’re done.
“Which will be...”
When we’re done, the boy said. Come, Father, the next one is fun, too.
“Stop calling me that.”
-----------
“Wow. Thanks.” Mercy said when it was clear they weren’t being followed. She was still feeling a little shaken, so she didn’t mind that he held her so close. In fact, she was leaning on him a little, which wasn’t like her at all, but then...she was a little shaken.
“I don’t even know what to say except I’m amazed you’ve survived even this long out here. Are you always that stupid?”
“Okay, not feeling as thankful.” She reached up and pushed against his arm lightly, but held on to it for support when he released her. Now that she was paying attention, “I know this isn’t a good time, but…” she knew why she was feeling out of sorts. “I need to get…” It had already started inside the building when she was distracted. Without a doubt, he could feel it too, by now.
“Damn. You are just a train wreck and a half.”
She felt it coming, rising up inside of her, swirling around her. She grabbed a hold of her power and turned it in the opposite direction, slowing the whole thing down. The first burst of pain hit her in the head, and her vision went red. “Could we, please, Cord...I’d like to sit.” Second burst, same as the first. The images started to come, blurring with the ground and their feet and the grass.
Feet, no...shoes, treading over the earth...
“Here,” his voice was both close and far. She allowed him to help her sit in the grass. Usually, she would find a quiet corner, or a bathroom. She knew where every single bathroom was, because a stall was pretty private and people wouldn’t ask you questions in there. Sometimes, like this time, she got stuck out in public, so she would hold her head and pretend that it was just a bad headache, which was at least partially the truth.
His voice again, whispering, “Your energy is pretty strong, can you keep it down?”
She could shake her head, that was about it, because it was cresting. A lone figure was walking, each step pulling him farther away from where he wanted to be. The steps slowed and then stopped, and he looked back the way he had come, but it was lost in shadow. He couldn’t go back to that place, because it was gone. Then the shadows surrounded him on all sides, and he had no way of going forward, either. He crouched down, pulling his arms up to cover his head, eyes on the dirt beneath him. Between his worn shoes, below him, a tiny light sparkled. He reached down and fell into the light.
“No saving him…” she mumbled, trying to hold on to it, but it was slipping away. Had to go through the dark to find the light. Another burst of red and the vision was gone completely.
“What?”
“No...never mind.” Yesterday afternoon, last night, early this morning, and now this one. Four within twenty-four hours was a record for her. She was pretty sure she couldn’t make it through another two months like this...definitely not, if she was going to be doing it alone.
“Alone? What are you mumbling about?”
She hadn’t realized that she had said anything aloud. “I thin
k I’ll have to leave school.”
“Because of your visions?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? There are only two months left.”
Red. Wracking pain. Shaking hands. Why was she shaking? She shook her head. Why was this happening, after she had worked so hard and so long to get this far on her own? She hadn’t had to lean on anyone for, well, years now.
What was she doing, leaning on him?
She sat up, patting him on the arm, “Thanks, but I think I’m good now. Can you...no, just sit there, I can get myself up.”
“Whatever.” He waited until she got up and then stood himself. “You’ve been putting on a good show all this time.”
Like flint on stone. “What does that mean?”
“Making everyone think you’ve grown, when you’re just as helpless as ever, just better at hiding it.”
“Helpless?” Was he trying to upset her? Or, was this how he was going to do it?
“Yeah, bungling everything, can’t control your own power, and you’re useless when it takes over. Might as well head home then; there are plenty of trees around to sit under there.”
“I hardly have any visions at home, like one a month.” Why was she explaining to him? She started walking back to her dorm. When he didn’t follow, she turned around and snapped, “If you want to go, just go. You don’t have to start a fight and use it as an excuse. I’m not the reason you’re going, and I’m not going to stop you in any case. Just go.”
She turned away from his surprised expression, wishing she hadn’t yelled and thinking about a bottle of pain relief tablets in her bathroom.
-----------
“For someone who speaks of retirement, you spend a lot of time working, my Heart.”
Temper smiled and gave her husband another hug. “It will be two weeks, at least, this time.”
“That long? I thought you had finished taking extended field assignments.”
She reminded herself that he would have been completely justified in feeling resentful, but knew that he wasn’t. He had long become accustomed to her absences. She had dedicated her life to the Scere, and, more often than not, had taken the lead in operations that ranged from a handful of weeks to many months.
“This one is important.”
Because he was the perfect husband for her, the only one that could tolerate her particular brand of queer independence, he nodded instead of saying the obvious. She always said that the mission was important, and he never argued that the family was important, too. He never made her feel guilty for the path she had decided on, because he had known about it from the beginning, had accepted it as an inseparable part of being with her.
Why he had been fine with it, she didn’t know, because it was a poor arrangement for the young, attractive, eligible young man he had been when they had their first meeting. She had known even then that she was odd for a Kin. She was independent, headstrong and entirely too open to unconventional ideas. It was strange to spend so much time away from the family. It was strange to quietly work against some of the strongest held beliefs and conventions of her people. It was not seemly for a woman of her status to enjoy and seek out the company of those who barely qualified as people. For some reason, he had recognized who she was and accepted her. All of her. So, instead of pressing, he gave her another quick kiss and returned to his self appointed task of packing up her lunch.
“Thank you, love,” she said and then added, “Please, don’t put so much spinach.”
He added a little more to the sandwich without looking up, “You bruise too easily. You need your dark, leafy greens.”
She grumbled under her breath about the flavor of dark, leafy greens as she left the kitchen, knowing that it would make him smile. In her office, she checked her messages one final time. Her ride was scheduled to arrive at any time and then she would be off on one of the more interesting and potentially dangerous missions of her career.
A trap on a trap. She chuckled. Yes, he definitely should have been working intelligence all those years. Of course, he never would have agreed to it. He was a field man, or had been in those days. He had to be in motion. Now, she wasn’t sure what he was, because he had changed, and there was no doubt in Temper’s mind who was responsible for that change.
Thinking of Mercy reminded her of a conversation she had had with the girl about Scythe years ago, just after they had met. In the course of an operation to uncover a group of rebels, they had traveled together for a while to the Capital. Since the journey was long, they had time to talk and get to know each other better on the way.
“What type of name is Scythe?”
Temper had smiled at the question. “Like Heron, the name Scythe also comes from Kin mythology. Long ago, our people looked to the wind for guidance. There are several important figures that derive from this; aside from birds like the heron, there were mystical creatures like dragons or spirits, and powerful, wise Kin that could fly on magnificent wings. There are many stories of the gifts that these Honorable Ones bestowed on the Kin.
“On the wind flew one woman who meted out justice...”
“And she cut down bad people with a scythe…” Mercy filled in.
“Well, on occasion, but not usually, no.” She frowned, “You might spend some time contemplating your people’s violent tendencies at some point. The Kin do not jump to such conclusions…”
“Oh, sorry. I just thought, you know, because it’s a weapon and...” Her voice trailed away at something she saw in Temper’s expression. “Ah, go ahead, please.”
“Actually, it can be used as a weapon, but historically it was a tool designed for farming. In that case, it harvests; it reaps what was sown and brings forth the fruit of one’s hard labor. This could be an interpretation of the name, though I’ve never heard of anyone using it that way.
“The scythe the Honored One carried was more a metaphor than anything else. She was shrewd, and her strength was in finding the truth. She would observe and listen and use her powers to find out what was true and what was false. That which was false was unclean, and she cut it away. Perhaps you have heard the expression, ‘Cut that out'?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it. Like, ‘You need to cut that out,’ when someone is doing something you don’t like.”
“Well, that is one of the expressions Humans have borrowed from the Kin, and it comes directly from the myth surrounding this woman, Herianithe. She favored the Kin and cleansed them; her gift was in purifying them. This is the predominant reason why the Kin detest lies. Lies taint the character and that reflects very poorly on one’s family and on the people in general.
“Thus, a child named Scythe is one who is taught to look closely, observe, seek truth, and cut out taint. In Scythe’s case, I have often wondered how his name was meant to be interpreted. His is the way of the desert, a soldier’s path, and was from a very young age, so it could be that his family envisioned a more Human use of the name. I believe Human’s use a scythe in conjunction with some type of death figure, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Death is a skeleton in long robes that cuts people down with a big scythe.”
“And then what?”
“They die.” Seeing that Temper expected more, she added, “They might go to heaven, which is like a paradise, or to hell and suffer forever.” Because she suspected that the idea would be abhorrent to any Kin, Mercy explained, “Not everyone believes that, though. Just some people.”
“That is a disturbing image. I find it extremely difficult to believe that even a Human parent would envision such a destiny for a babe on his naming day. Mercy, I believe that the traditional use of the name, the one related to finding the truth, is more likely what Scythe’s parents had in mind, simply because of what I know of Scythe’s father. He was also named Scythe, but he was not a soldier. He was a negotiator, a diplomat that arbitrated meetings between the Humans and the Kin.”
“I think my father said something about that once. Scythe’s father
died when he was just a kid.”
“Yes, in the raid on Poinsea when Scythe and his mother were kidnapped, or rescued, depending on your perspective, and brought to live in the Human city. He was a keen observer of both Human and Kin behavior and a well respected man, until he committed the ultimate atrocity.”
“Marrying a Human.”
“Yes.”
“It must have been hard for them.” Mercy said thoughtfully.
“Extremely. There is really no way you could understand how absolute the taboo is for us. I wouldn’t have born it myself.”
“You might have if you were in love.”
“No.”
Seeing the Temper’s conviction, Mercy shifted in her seat uncomfortably and said, “Well, I’m not sure if Scythe is any of those things you said, but it is interesting. Thank you for explaining it to me. Some other time, I’d like you to tell me more...maybe about your name.”
“It would be my honor, Mercy. Perhaps you could do the same, as your name also holds meaning.”
“It would be my honor,” she said, adding a completely inappropriate smile to the formal Kin bowing of the head. “It would probably take about thirty seconds.”
Temper smiled again, thinking that she had been right about that lovely child. Mercy had been just the right match for the tightly bound, extraordinarily gifted, lonely agent Scythe.
“You’re car is here, my Heart.”
“Thank you. I’m coming.” She tucked her tablet in her bag and, reviewing her notes as she walked, strode out of the office.
-----------
Morgan stood looking over her shoulder while she reviewed the latest report. This close to her, he could feel her growing frustration as well as the thread of fear that was always sewn into her aura; it was fraying and being retied a lot these days. The numbers were down, more so than predicted, and one particular subject was declining rapidly.
Halfblood Legacy Page 10