When it was over, silence settled over the lab. Shawn's uncomprehending cry pierced the silence as Hansel and I stared at each other. Slipping the disk back into his pocket, Hansel picked up his pike and tipped his head to me as he turned to leave.
"Why?" I asked.
"So that no one else can know," he answered, as if I should have guessed. Without another word, Hansel disappeared up the stairs. I watched him go, the white robes swallowed up by the darkness without barely a sound.
This creature was interesting.
When I could no longer feel his presence in the lab, I asked, "can you get to the information again?"
Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Shawn managed a nod. "I … I know the system. I c-can hack it." His speech was interrupted by minor hitches. "I can do it."
"Good. I need those files."
"Why?"
I looked down at him with a soft smile. "I want hope that your father's work wasn't for nothing."
Spreading my arms, I teleported us out of the lab. It didn't take Shawn long to find a computer network to use to our advantage. He hacked into his father's system and retrieved the information; putting it on a portable stick he called a USB drive, he handed it over to me after making a copy for himself. "For personal reasons," he told me.
After we were sure we had all available information stores somewhere safe, Shawn did what Hansel should have done. He deleted all the files from the system.
"Total wipeout," he said after he finished. "Now, even if someone hacks their way into the system, all they'll see is this symbol." He motioned to the screen, which displayed an image of an S with the title "Saber Inc." underneath.
"Good work," I said, holding the small USB in my hand. Now for Shawn. "Listen, Foxy," I said, settling a hand on his shoulder. "I need you to disappear for a while. I'm about to cause a lot of trouble and, because you're a Fox, you're going to get caught in the crossfire."
"I have some places to hide," he said, turning to look at me with a confident grin. "Don't worry."
I smiled back. "I'm not."
With a gentle nudge of power, I submerged him in my white magic, converting his mass into something moldable before sending it up to Simon's Burrow. It took a great amount of strength, and afterward I felt a little drained. I was forced to stop and breathe deeply.
This is getting too much for your body to handle, Mother warned. You need to slow down.
"No," I said, "I'm not finished yet."
I wasn't about to let Shawn get killed by the Hyenas because I set one clan on to the other. On the other hand, Shawn had a copy of the data we grabbed from his father's research. Proof that I wasn't just making lies. Proof that would undoubtedly get into Simon's hands one way or another. Now I just had to get back to My Fair Lady and get this information to Ruby. After seeing this, the Hyenas would be more willing to start a fight with the Foxes.
After I bent the information a little in my favor, of course.
Chapter Eight
My Fair Lady
Back at My Fair Lady, I caught sight of Ruby, dancing to a version of La Vie en Rose only heard at this nightclub. The song was being sung by a Terran elf from the Old World, every word sang in the light, gentle tones of her native tongue. Ruby was dancing against a tall, muscular creature, skin pale as porcelain with large eyes that were black as the night. I recognized his kind, and it took me by surprise. He came from our world, but I didn't think there were any of his kind left on Earth.
I waited until the song was over, the trumpet on stage moving the rhythm along to its conclusion. When it was over, Ruby went on tiptoed in order to kiss him on the cheek, an oddly affectionate gesture for my affection less cousin. He accepted it, but his wide eyes were trained on me. He said something to Ruby, and she spun to face me. Every scrap of tenderness evaporated instantly as she twisted away from him and sauntered over to me.
"What now?" she asked, clearly annoyed.
I held up the tampered USB drive and handed it over to her. "Something to swing the Clan into my favor. The data suggests some of the tools Afanasiy used to torture members of your Clan. I'll be honest, it sounded brutal."
Staring at me, Ruby wrapped her fist around the drive and squeezed. I heard the plastic casing cracking as she smashed the USB in her hand.
"Hyenas don't play your type of games, Fox," she said with a low warning giggle. "We've survived this long because we don't play games. We do what we think is in our best interest and we act once the decision has been made. If we think war is in our best interest, we'll go to war. But don't try to trick us into action unless you want the Clan to fall down on your head instead of his."
I raised my hands in mock surrender. She giggled, the noise coming from deep in her throat. Another warning, the Hyena way. "You Foxes are all the same," she spat, turning away. "Tricksters."
Sting approached as she walked off, a grimace on his face.
"That didn't end well," he remarked, leaning on the bar next to me.
"Good things rarely do," I responded. Turning around, I said, "We need to talk."
Even though our previous interaction was not the best, Sting obliged and we went downstairs. Once we were beyond the hustle and bustle of the nightclub, I feigned anger and frustration.
Slamming my hand down on the nearest table, I used my magic to burn the symbol I saw on the computer screen, the brand for the company that funded Shawn's father. Sting stared at it, mildly surprised and confused. I looked up at him and crossed my arms. "What do you know about this symbol?"
"I know that if you leave it burned into my table, I'll have to charge you extra next time."
"I'll risk it," I snapped.
He whistled. "That conversation must've been really ugly. Nothing quite so terrible as a disagreement with a cousin, eh?"
He was dodging the question. It wasn't like him. I waited in silence until he decided to cooperate.
He looked down at it again. He heaved a sigh. Looked back up at me.
"It's a company that's made a deal with the devil," he finally said, rubbing a finger slowly along the edge of the symbol. "That's all I can tell you for free."
"The humans have found a way of combating the genetic strain of the marwolaeth bite on their own," I said, giving up what information I had. Price is price. Information for information. "They have data that proves the strain can be reversed. Testing began before the lab got raided by a section of the Clan. Years afterward, Afanasiy raided the same lab. It's how he got his hands on the tool he used to create hybrids."
Sting slowly smiled. He looked up from the symbol.
"That's very interesting—" he laughed "—but it's not nearly enough for trade. Using that to try and get what I have is like trying to trade a single fox-hide for a bunch of bearskins. It's a question of value."
"Value depends on who's selling," I responded.
His smile flipped, turning into an unhappy frown. "This value isn't. Unless you have more, I can't trade you an answer."
I leaned on the table, putting my hand close to his and looked deep into his eyes. With a slow, gentle smile, I said softly, "If you don't give me something for my trouble, I'm going to burn this symbol into your forehead."
He smiled back his dangerous smile. "You wouldn't dare. I'm too valuable to the economy of information."
"You're right," I acceded. "I wouldn't do that. What I would do, however"—I let my magic flow down my arms, the wood of the table heating as I did so—"is brand everything in this place with the symbol of the company whose information you value so highly."
He didn't flinch, but his eyes gave him away. I had his attention.
"Such a high price from you must mean that this company, whoever they are, are dangerous. Even for once such as you." I pressed. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so stingy. What would your consumers say, I wonder, if they all of a sudden saw your things branded by such a company?" He was squirming. Even if I didn't get what I was after, this was
too much fun to pass up. His mind raced for an answer.
"I think they'd have second thoughts about you as an asset," I continued. "I think they'd believe their security was compromised, their secrets possibly exposed. Word would spread. And whether you were a rat or not would be of little importance after that. Your reputation, the most fragile thing in the world, would be shattered."
"Enough," he hissed, his voice sharp. "Remove the symbol and I'll point you in a direction."
A direction was enough. I relented.
With a wave of my hands, the burn marks vanished from the wood.
He sat in a nearby chair with a heavy sigh. "I can't answer your question. Not to your satisfaction, at any rate. I happen to have principles, unlike you. If people think you robbed me, they'll think they can rob me too." Raising a single finger he added, "But as I said, I can give you a clue.
"There's a sanctuary somewhere in Arkansas that keeps a current databank on Keeper-run companies or non-human businesses that are under Keeper investigation. They keep a tight lock on it, but you'll find more information on who that company belongs to in their databanks."
So, this company was Keeper-related. That's why he was being so squirrely about it.
Wonderful. I always wanted an excuse to crash a Sanctuary.
Chapter Nine
The Sanctuary
While I always loved to have an excuse to invade a Sanctuary, I had to be careful around them. Sanctuaries were always filled with Faith, and Faith robbed you of all gifts you weren't born with. While that wasn't a major concern of mine, it did mean that half of my magic was ineffective once I stepped onto the property. Oh well. Ice magic is easy for me to deal with, seeing as how it is the magic I was born with.
The Keepers, unfortunately for them, were not trained to be able to deal with someone like me.
Transporting myself to the Sanctuary, I strode up the bland, grey steps, and shot a cold, solid blow against the oaken doors. They burst open, falling away from the metal frame and raining splinters into the hallway.
The sound of the blast was quickly followed by footsteps, all the Keepers nearby undoubtedly running to see the source of the sound. The small welcoming group caught sight of me walking into the Sanctuary. I flashed them a quick smile before I began my attack.
With a surge of energy, I blew a frozen kiss in their direction, flourishing my ice power straight down the hall. All of the Keepers were frozen in place, just how I liked them. Placing a hand on the side of the doorway, I reproduced an iced version of the door, including the image of the various magical inscriptions. These, however, were of my own design. They wouldn't let anyone inside who didn't have a certain level of magical ability.
I didn't want the cavalry come to the rescue too early. And now, for the Keepers inside.
I turned, raising my old magic within me to a powerful, icy throb. Letting it go, I breathed the magic out and coated the hallway itself in ice. All the doors froze in place, each open doorway was blocked with a thick sheet, and I made sure I breathed it through any open spaces that happened to remain. Any Keepers that weren't fast enough to weave some sort of counter-magic were now stuck behind an iced barrier. Everyone else would get to deal with me.
Poor little Keepers. Their masters may have thought they trained their soldiers well, but they somehow forget about creatures like me. I drew my claymore and moved steadily through the frozen hall. Since it was my magic, I wasn't going to slip on the surface.
Each Keeper who managed to find me went down with a swift and easy stroke or two of my sword. A few trembling spells from natural-born mages were thrust at me. Each spell was cut through or repelled by my blade, the crystal tirelessly worked on upon its construction to serve just such a purpose.
Blood spilled upon the ice.
Limbs were separated.
Bodies fell.
I moved through the building easily, stopping only to force directions out of someone I hadn't killed yet, or to melt a sheet of ice that I needed to get through. I made my way without hindrance to the room where the Keepers kept their data, my directions coming from some easily-intimidated Keepers.
It was a simple, small room off to the side of the old sanctuary. An old, threadbare rug revealed a trapdoor with stairs leading underground. Dust-covered wires were set into the wall, feeding electricity to the old lamplights hanging overhead. I followed the wires to a secret storage room, where they separated from the wall and stretched through the center of the room. The soft glow of a computer monitor sat against the far wall, the wires connecting to the computer and keeping it alive. Surrounding it were bookshelves upon bookshelves of scrolls in old cases.
I tapped a key or two on the computer's keypad, and the screen reacted. The screen blipped and something hummed. "Query?" appeared and blinked at me, a blank bar underneath the word.
I stared, trying to figure it out. I glanced around at the scrolls and back at the computer. Was it…some sort of cataloguing system?
I tried out my theory.
After typing in "Saber Inc." with one hand, I tapped the enter button. The computer hummed and clicked, the screen flickering as a small icon appeared with very sporadic blinking. Eventually, the machine gave off a small beeping noise and text appeared on the screen: "N-22T15".
I glanced at the scrolls again. Each bronze cap had a number burned into the metal, O-14C5, O-27C5, O-35C5, etc. All were numbered from 1 to 100 and all stamped with C5 at the end. The number at the end must reference a particular building, and the numbers at the beginning identified which scroll you were looking for. Which was a useless realization for me to have, seeing as how N and T were nowhere around. I was going to have to find a different building. Damn.
Footsteps nearby drew my attention.
Someone rushed down the steps.
Drawing my sword, I spun around with a massive swing, aiming where I estimated the intruder's neck to be. The Keeper ducked, trying to use his pike to block. My blade cut through his like it was made of tin and bit deeply into the wall.
With a wave of my hand, I summoned the ice to wrap around him, the cold beginning to circle the Keeper's body like a storm. My blade might have somehow missed, but my magic would not.
"Jules, stop!"
He knew my name. Surprising.
I stopped, but left the icy half-formed and sharp at the top.
Hansel's head appeared over the edge of the wall, his brown eyes curious and a little frightened. "Are you done trying to kill me, gorgeous?"
"Only if you're done being a Keeper, darling."
He stood up a little more. "You mean completely done or just ignoring my Keeperly duties, like I did earlier when I didn't take your friend and lock him in a Sanctuary?"
"I mean done, as in you'll let me go about my way and not pursue me for breaking your laws."
He smiled a cocky, confident little smirk, and stood up completely. "Not my laws, darling. Just the ones I try to live by."
Freeing my blade from the wall, I swung it around and shoved the tip into the ground. Wrapping an elbow around the hilt and resting my arm on the guard, I leaned against the sword and asked, "you're not a typical Keeper, are you?"
"Are any of us really typical?"
"Stubborn," I responded, "boring, dull, single-minded and completely conventional." I flashed him a little smile. "Yes, I'd say Keepers have a definite 'type'."
He made a shocked face. "I'm deeply hurt," he said, giving me a slight pout. "Clearly, you just haven't spent enough time around us Keepers."
"I've spent plenty of time around Keepers," I scoffed. "They started hating me before I began to hate them."
"You poor baby."
"I know. I'm just such a victim." I pretended to swoon a little before straightening up. "So, dear Keeper," I said, "tell me why I should leave this place completely intact?"
When he hesitated, I answered his unspoken question with, "Well of course, darling, you were going to ask me to
leave without blowing a great big hole in the wall. This is your sanctuary and, more importantly, I'm standing next to the biggest cache of Keeper information in this building. Maybe not the biggest cache in all of Keeperdom, but"—I leaned forward just a bit—"I'm betting it took years and years to obtain and catalogue all this information. And I'm betting there are a whole lot of Keepers who would be mad if I torched it all."
He tossed his head back and forth, thinking. "Well... No, yes, yes and yes. It's not my sanctuary, I was here to visit a friend of mine. Which brings me to my actual reason for asking you to leave and take your mess"—he pressed a finger to my ice wall—"with you."
I gave a throaty laugh. "You think I care about Keepers?"
"I think you care about younglings that suffered from unfortunate circumstances."
I didn't say anything.
He continued. "I may not know you well, gorgeous, but I know your type. When we met in the lab, you made little Shawn wait out of sight while you took care of an unknown threat—me—and didn't call him down until you'd assessed that I wasn't a threat to him."
"And?"
"You care. You kept yourself near. You didn't have to. You could probably have protected him from a great distance away, if you had a mind to. But you wanted him safe."
"He was my ticket to getting information," I said evenly, lightly. "Nothing more."
"You don't protect tools like that," he responded.
I gave a theatrical sigh. "What is your point?"
"Two days ago, a friend of mine was bitten by a Wolf. They got an antidote to him that same day, but he still hasn't recovered. He's upstairs, hurting. I can't get to him because the path to him is frozen solid."
"And you want me to unfreeze it."
He nodded, his eyes pleading with pure honesty. "Please, Jules. He's only here because of me."
"You must care for this boy very deeply if you're presenting your bleeding heart to a witch like me," I muttered. "Sorry honey, but my heart doesn't bleed the same color as yours."
Jules Page 7