Zane Halloway: Omnibus Edition

by P. T. Hylton

  “We climb.”

  She started up the wall before the second word had left his lips.

  Zane put his hand on her arm. “No. Me first.”

  He could see things embedded in the wall at seemingly random points. Objects that would be activated if touched. Things that would burn them, or shock them, or shoot spikes at them. Such magical devices were difficult to see even in the best of light. But if one knew what to look for and proceeded with caution, it was possible to avoid them, even in the dark.

  “Watch were I put my hands and feet,” he told Lily. “Follow exactly.”

  He started up the wall.

  Of course this place would be crawling with thorns and tangles. The Abditus Society wanted their elder statesmen and stateswomen protected. But that wasn’t such a bad thing. The more magical objects they had, the more comfortable they felt, and the easier it would be for Zane to do his job.

  After ten minutes of slow, careful climbing, Zane threw his leg over the top of the wall, then held out a hand to Lily, which she ignored.

  The wall was barely wide enough for a man to stand on. Zane looked in both directions, searching for guards or watchmen who might be stationed up there. He saw no one, but there was something else.

  He gently elbowed Lily and pointed toward a small disc to her left.

  “Thorn?” she asked.

  Zane nodded. “I’m guessing we don’t want to touch it. Keep your eyes open for—” He suddenly noticed the disc was emitting a gentle glow, and he cursed softly. “Start climbing. We need to get off the wall. Now.”

  She nodded.

  “It’s not a thorn; it’s a tangle,” he said in answer to her unasked question. He started down the wall, speaking softly as he climbed. “My guess is that somewhere in this complex, there’s a guards’ room, and in that room a similar looking disc is also glowing. If we’re very lucky, the guard isn’t paying attention.”

  “And if we’re not?” she asked. She began climbing after him.

  “Then the guards know we’re here and they probably know exactly where we are.”

  “That’s not good,” Lily said with a grunt.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  When they reached the ground, there was still no sign of guards.

  The area around them was a large garden with plenty of thick grass perfect for wiggling your toes in and plenty of trees for sitting under on a sunny day. A stream ran through the grounds, which was a neat trick as Zane hadn’t seen one outside of the wall.

  There were three buildings, one significantly larger than the rest.

  Zane pointed to the large one. “That’ll be the resident’s apartments, I’ll bet.”

  “What’s the plan?” Lily asked. “Go room to room until we find him?”

  Zane said, “We need a tour guide.” There were still no guards, a fact that was starting to worry Zane a bit.

  Lily started to speak, but Zane held up a hand to stop her. He thought he’d heard something, but the sound was gone. Or was it? There was something, but it was too quiet to be footsteps. Unless…

  Zane put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  A tall, thin figure rounded the corner and let out a high-pitched yelp when he saw them. In a flash, Zane had the tip of his sword at the stranger’s long neck.

  “Good evening,” Zane said. “We’re in need of a guide. Might you be available?”

  Zane glanced at Lily. Her eyes were as big as silver coins.

  “My God,” she said. “Is that…” She drifted off, unable to speak the words.

  “Yes, it is,” Zane said. He turned back to the tall figure and said, “I’ll take your silence to mean you’re able to assist us.”

  “The sword at my throat makes a convincing argument.” The elf’s voice had a strange sing-songy quality. It’d been years since Zane had spoken with one of their kind. He’d forgotten the way you needed to guard your thoughts around them; that voice was meant to lull you into a more suggestible state.

  “Good,” Zane said. “We’re looking for George Vander. Would you please lead us to his quarters?”

  The elf gave a tiny nod and then said, “Perhaps you would care to accompany me to my master’s chambers first. He would like to know we have guests. He’s most hospitable.”

  Zane felt the words tickling the back of his brain, trying to convince him, but he steeled himself. He glanced at Lily. Her eyes had a far off, dreamy quality.

  “Straight to Vander’s quarters, please,” Zane said. “I don’t wish to cut you.”

  “I don’t wish that either,” the elf said. He paused another moment, as if waiting to see if his words would sink in and affect Zane. “Very well, then. Please follow me.”

  He turned on his heel and walked in the peculiar gliding way of his kind.

  Zane followed close behind, the point of his sword resting lightly on the elf’s back. He nudged Lily. “Watch yourself. He’ll make you forget your purpose if you’re not careful.”

  Lily nodded. She still looked a little dazed.

  Seeing an elf out of the ghetto was rare. The penalty for any elf found outside the Blue Wall was death, and any human who helped them escape the ghetto would face the same punishment. It’d been that way ever since the war. But the abditus had a strange and complicated relationship with elvish kind. The abditus needed them, of course, but they also resented them. The elf had offered to take Zane to his master. Zane wondered if the abditus here were following the old ways and keeping this elf as a slave. That too was highly illegal. But in a place filled with old abditus, it wasn’t inconceivable. They weren’t the most progressive bunch.

  The elf led them to the largest building, the one Zane had assumed contained the living quarters.

  “How many abditus live here?” he asked the elf.

  “Twenty-three, currently,” the elf said. “Perhaps we should go to my master’s chambers and he can show you the full list of residents.”

  Lily opened her mouth, probably to agree, judging by that dreamy look in her eye, but Zane silenced her with a harsh glare.

  “You’ve done your master proud,” Zane said. “You tried. But if you attempt to sway us again, I will cut you.”

  Lily seemed to wake up a little at that. “So it’s true what the stories say? About how an elf’s voice can sway you?”

  “Most of what the stories say about us is false,” the elf said. “But we do hold some minor influence over the mind when we so desire it.” He turned to Zane and said, “I meant no disrespect.”

  Zane nodded toward the building. “Understood. Take us in.”

  They followed the elf through a series of twisting corridors. The walls were lined with magical objects, but Zane couldn’t tell if they were thorns, tangles, or something else altogether.

  After the sixth turn, just when Zane was beginning to suspect the elf was leading them through random hallways until help arrived, the elf stopped in front of a door decorated with an elaborately carved number: 5381. The elf rapped on the door three times.

  “It’s open.” The voice was gravelly but pleasant.

  The elf opened the door and stepped inside. Zane and Lily followed. The apartment was small but richly appointed. This place smelled of money.

  “Ah, Charles!” the gravelly voiced man said. “I’m so pleased to see you. I haven’t had a decent game of rabbles in weeks. Have time for a match?”

  “Perhaps in a bit, sir.” The elf stepped aside and gestured gracefully at Zane and Lily. “You have guests.”

  Zane had met George Vander once before, years ago in a time that felt like another life. Vander wouldn’t remember; Zane had been just a kid in a crowded classroom. Vander had been speaking about preparing for a life in magic. The man Zane remembered had been tall, almost as tall an elf, and thick with muscle. The man in front of Zane now was stooped and thin. The skin hung loosely from his face and arms. He sat in a chair, his body describing a curve that arched toward the floor. He leaned on the cane in front of him,
and the stick appeared to be the only thing keeping him from tumbling forward out of the chair.

  The smile melted off Vander’s face at the sight of Zane and Lily.

  Before the old man could speak, Zane said, “Mr. Vander, apologies for the unannounced visit. We have a matter to discuss with you that could not wait.”

  Vander’s gaze flicked to the elf. “Charles, get Mr. Devlin. Now, please.”

  Zane smacked the flat blade of his sword against the elf’s chest. “On second thought, Charles, don’t.”

  The elf sighed. “Our guest has already declined to meet our master despite multiple suggestions.”

  Vander glared at Zane. “Do you know who I am?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  “Then you know I’m not defenseless!” the old man barked. He pulled a small round object out of his pocket and held it up. “State your business and be quick about it.”

  Zane eyed the object. He wasn’t worried. He’d yet to meet the thorn that was faster than his blade. He’d yet to see any magic that worried him. Before the other night, anyway, the night Beth Farns had somehow made him lose three hours of time.

  “Mr. Vander, I have some questions for you about the man you apprenticed with.”

  Vander squinted at him. “Irving?”

  Zane nodded. He glanced at Lily, nonverbally letting her know this was his show, that she was here only to observe. The last thing he needed was her taking the conversation down the wrong path.

  “What do you want to know about Irving?” Vander asked. “He’s gone. Disappeared years ago. And, no, I don’t know where he went, if that’s what you’re going to ask.”

  Zane had been hoping to ask that question, but not for a while. He was going to work his way up to it. While he was still thinking about how to adjust his approach, Vander spoke again.

  “Is this about the duel?”

  Zane nodded gravely.

  Vander chuckled. “People are still wondering about that?” His voice sounded weary when he spoke. “You work your whole life, make a name for yourself, make some genuine advancements in your field of study, but do people remember it? No. They focus on the one black spot. Somehow I’ve become a footnote in Irving’s legend instead of the headliner in my own.”

  Zane took a small step forward. He kept the elf in his peripheral vision. His kind moved fast, so Zane couldn’t discount the possibility the elf would try to catch him off guard.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Zane said. He’d stumbled upon a raw nerve, and he intended to lean on it. “We have reason to believe that the story people have been passing around all these years isn’t completely accurate.”

  Vander’s face went pale. “What is it? What’s come out?”

  Zane shrugged noncommittally. “Only rumors. We were hoping to hear your side of the story.”

  Vander shook his head. “I don’t have anything to say on that. Not to you. I don’t even know your name.”

  Zane bowed his head in a gesture of respect. “My name’s Zane Halloway. This is my apprentice Lily Rhodes.”

  “Zane Halloway?” Vander’s face was even paler now. “You’re the ferox. The assassin. The way I heard it, you’re the one who killed the pirate Longstrain.”

  Zane let the silence hang in the air, neither confirming nor denying it. How could Vander know about that? Vander had been an important man once, but Zane had never considered that the Ferox Society leaders would compromise his identity. Even to an important abditus.

  “Are you here to kill me?” Vander asked. “Is that it? You want to get my story before you end my life?”

  “No,” Zane said. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m only here for information.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because that’s not how I operate. If I was here to kill you, you’d be dead. I wouldn’t have any interest in getting your story.” The tip of his sword was resting on the ground now, but it was angled in Vander’s direction, a subtle reminder of his role and reputation.

  Vander nodded slowly. “Alright. No harm in telling it, I guess.” He squirmed in his seat, sitting up a bit straighter as he talked. “It was the golden age, and duels were common then. Everyone wanted to prove themselves. It was mostly the young upstarts, but even us more established abditus got sucked into it from time to time. It was all the rage.” His eyes flicked back and forth between Zane and Lily. “Either of you ever see an abditus duel?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “Ah, well, it’s a thing to behold. Especially in those days. There was so much innovation happening. There was nothing more exciting than competing in a duel. You never knew what your opponent was going to use, so there was an art to selecting your magic. You needed to pick something that would be effective against a wide variety of techniques, but also something that wasn’t too predictable. There was one duel the magical community wanted to see above all others. The top thornsman versus the top tanglesman.”

  “You versus Farns,” Zane guessed.

  Vander nodded. “We laughed the idea off for a long time. We weren’t friends exactly, but we were close in the way that two people who have been through something intense together often are. At the same time, we were annoyed with each other. People were always comparing our work and arguing over who was the best abditus of our era.”

  The old man turned and looked into the darkness outside the window next to him. “Irving came to my door one night. He’d been drinking, which was rare. He suggested we just get it over with. Have a duel, make a spectacle of it. I suspect he thought it might put an end to the constant challenges we were getting from the younger abditus. Or at least help reduce them. I agreed.

  “The night before the duel I didn’t get any sleep. I was racked with indecision over which thorn to use. I had an improved version of a Candlewick, a type of thorn I knew had given Irving trouble in the past. And then there was a new thorn, different and more violent than any I’d ever used before. I didn’t even have a name for it. I had no idea how it would perform against Irving’s tangles.” The old man’s voice drifted off and he stared out the window for a long moment.

  “Which did you end up using?” Zane asked.

  Vander turned and gave the assassin a sad smile. “The Candlewick. I played it safe, and Irving defeated me handily. And that’s when everything changed for me.”

  “How so?”

  “I knew the duel was meant to be for show, but it bothered me. In the eyes of the public, the matter had been settled. Irving Farns was my better. But I was convinced that if I’d used the other thorn, I would have won the day. I challenged him to a rematch, but he refused. He said I was taking the whole thing too seriously. I guess I lost my love of magic somewhere around that time. And my reputation started to fade.”

  Lily said, “Your apprentice Wen told me you used to disappear for days at a time.”

  Vander looked at her with a start. He’d clearly forgotten she was present. “That’s right. As the years went on, I started spending more time in my workshop. Not working on anything new, but fussing with the thorn I hadn’t used. I started calling it the Nettle because of the way it pricked and burned in my mind. I never made any real changes to it. I never sold it. I just went to my workshop and considered what might have been had I used it that day.”

  Zane set a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “This Nettle. Do you still have it?”

  Before the old man could answer, the door to the apartment opened and three large guards walked in, swords drawn. They moved to the side and let the woman behind them pass through. She smiled at Zane.

  “Mr. Halloway,” Beth Farns said, “I hear you’re trying to kill my father.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lily stood in the shadows halfway between Zane and Beth Farns. The woman had glanced at Lily when she’d walked in, but only briefly. It seemed she only had eyes for Zane. Which was not unwise considering he was one of the deadliest assassins in the world.

 
And Zane…Lily saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Hesitation. Tentativeness. Everything inside her was pointing toward the impossible conclusion that Zane Halloway was afraid.

  Beth Farns was a good three inches taller than Lily. Her hair was a wild mane that seemed both unkempt and impeccably stylish. She wore a loose dress that folded in the front like a robe. A tear-shaped medallion hung around her neck.

  Zane hadn’t responded to Beth’s initial accusation, the one suggesting he was out to kill her father, but Beth continued anyway. “Do you remember what happened at Volst Hall the other night? When you attempted to throw the knife at me?”

  Volst Hall? What was the woman talking about? Another secret?

  Zane said nothing.

  Beth’s hand slithered up to the medallion hanging from her neck, and she adjusted it ever so slightly. “The truth is you have no memory of that time. I turned off your brain. In front of the assembled Abditus Society. They had quite the laugh, watching you, nothing more than a capable body awaiting the orders of its master. The tangle was designed to deactivate any weapon used against it. The intent was to protect against thorns, but, in this case, you were the weapon.” She leaned a bit closer to him and smiled. “We could have done anything to you. Anything at all.”

  Zane’s jaw tightened so hard Lily could see the muscles standing out on his face.

  “I’m surprised you continued with your little job after that,” Beth said. “Surprised and disappointed. Let me ask you this, assassin. If I, a young woman unschooled in the ways of magic, was able to turn off your mind so easily, what do you think a true master tanglesman would do to you? What do you think my father will do if you manage to find him?”

  Zane raised his sword, and Lily pulled a knife out of her belt.

  Zane said, “How’d you know I was going to be here?”

  Beth Farns laughed. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that part out. It was—”

  Zane made his move while she was still speaking. He lunged at her with terrifying speed. His blade was arching toward her body when suddenly he fell limp to the ground.