Valverna

by A Clarkson

  “Are you sure you want to be involved in this?” he asked finally. “I know what it is to lose someone you love, and to want nothing more than revenge, but this,” Magnus gestured a hand toward the papers that lay between them, “this is messy. I’m not sure knowing more will ease the pain you’re feeling.”

  Suddenly wary, Ira twisted the fingers in her lap.

  Closing her eyes she took a breath for courage. “Tell me.”

  He didn’t question her again, simply forging ahead. “All of the victims were killed by poison. It isn’t one I recognise, but it appears to paralyze the victim before stopping the heart. The murderer has cut up all of his victims in some way, so we think the poison may be laced on the blade. But at this point, we’re just speculating.”

  Ira couldn’t breathe. Clarisse had been paralyzed. And Bill? Trapped inside his body as it refused to move any closer to Clarisse and forced him to lay there frozen as he watched her suffer.

  Her heart was beating too loud, the blood roaring through her head. She could feel the panic crawling up her body trying to consume her. It would swallow her whole.

  Ira felt like she was falling, deeper and deeper into an abyss that she didn’t know if she would ever escape.

  Her hands suddenly felt warm, the sensation grounding her, anchoring her back into her body. She took a deep breath. And another.

  She opened her eyes to find Magnus had moved beside her and rested a hand on hers where they lay in her lap clamped in a death grip. Her knuckles white.

  She stared into those hazel eyes and saw her own grief mirrored back from him. There was no judgement there, and no pity. Simply understanding and sympathy. He understood what it was to drown, and offered her a hand to help her stay afloat. At least for now.

  Reaching into the pocket of his trousers he pulled out a white handkerchief. Bringing it to her face he paused as if awaiting her consent.

  When Ira didn’t pull away, continuing to simply hold his eyes with hers, he gently brought the cloth to her cheeks, and began wiping away tears she hadn’t felt fall.

  Trying to pull herself back together she focused on what Magnus had told her.

  "You said killing the children could have been a message. Sending a message would require others to receive it. You think his victims know he's coming?"

  "Maybe. Maybe the message was for someone specific, or everyone.” He paused, looking at her and weighing his words carefully. “ Did Clarisse or Bill do anything in the last few days that seemed out of character? Say anything to make you believe they were expecting trouble?”

  Guilt flooded her.

  God she’d been so selfish. Only seeing Bill when she was in a drunken stupor, or waking from an alcohol induced coma. And Clarisse? She had been dodging Clarisse’s efforts to talk for weeks.

  Repulsed at herself she extracted her hands from his, and crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive posture.

  Had this been what Clarisse wanted to discuss? Had she known that they were in danger?

  With the guilt gnawing at her insides, she couldn’t bring herself to say any of this, so instead she simply responded with a shrug, and a lame, “Perhaps”.

  Magnus didn’t look like he was buying the bullshit she was selling, but let it slide for the moment, extracting his hand from where it had fallen onto her thigh.

  Needing to change the direction of the conversation she looped back to something she wondered about earlier.

  “You mentioned earlier that you tracked the killer to the cottage, where did he go from there?”

  “We lost him at the house.”

  Ira thought about that for a moment.

  “You were able to track him across three other crime scenes and to my parent’s cottage where he suddenly vanished?”

  “That would appear to be that case, yes.” He agreed, frowning at her. “He has done this on other occasions, leaving a clear trail that we have tracked over many days, before suddenly disappearing.”

  “Don’t you think that seems unlikely? Surely he is either good or bad at covering his tracks. But this would suggest otherwise.”

  He nodded at her to continue.

  “This would suggest that he is either intentionally leaving trails between certain murders, intending to lead you to his next victims, or all of the trails are being left unintentionally, and his mode of transport changes on occasion, allowing his trail to vanish.”

  She thought about that for a moment.

  “In the case of the former, the question would be ‘why’? Why lead your men to certain scenes? It increases the risk of capture, and he has no way of guaranteeing that you won’t find his trail when he doesn’t want you to. So it’s a ballsy move. In the case of the latter, it would suggest that the way he is moving around is somehow changeable.”

  He nodded at her in understanding, and with a wry smile said, “Sometimes he walks, other times he flies.”

  “Or maybe he gets a ride.”

  Chapter 7

  The Traveller

  Magnus accompanied Ira home to collect some of her things for her stay on the barge.

  Although she balked at the idea initially, she was now secretly relieved to be staying in the company of others. Even if it was on that miserable boat. She wasn't certain she could stand the silence alone.

  And now, standing in her lounge, with Clarisse's ghost all around her, she was quietly thrilled to not have to stay in this house. Not that she would ever tell Magnus that. No way. The man was smug enough without needing to know she was pleased to be forced out of her home.

  Especially not after the fuss she'd kicked up. Her pride demanded that she continue to act petulant about the move, no matter how pleased she truly was.

  There was a surprise waiting for her when she opened her door, in the shape of a young boy with ivory skin, green eyes and raven hair, sitting comfortably on her couch.

  “Please, make yourself at home.” The sarcasm in her tone was unmissable..

  “Thank you, I did.” That was, unless you were ten years old apparently.

  Magnus’ eyes flared ever so slightly at the sight of the boy, his only indication of surprise. Once again Mr Cool Cat was unfazed. Ira on the other hand was fairly put out.

  “Would you like to tell me what you are doing in my home? And how exactly did you get in? The door was locked.” Her voice may have risen toward the end in a slight show of hysteria. It had been a very long day, one she hoped to end soon. And young runaways breaking and entering didn’t seem to work into her plans for calling it a night.

  “I needed to come and correct my mistake. My economics professor Mr. Bishop always says that you must own up to your mistakes and correct them. Or nobody will respect you.” He frowned slightly at that. “I’m not sure how you know if someone respects you. Do you respect me?”

  “I would respect you more if you didn’t break into my house.” She mumbled under her breath as she marched toward her kitchen. More loudly she asked, “Tea anyone?”

  “Please,” came in Magnus’ quiet voice as he moved to sit across from Twinkle-Toes. “You know someone respects you if they listen to you.”

  Ira heard a frustrated huff from the next room. “Well then nobody respects me! The only person who does what I say is my little brother, and he doesn’t count.”

  Deciding she couldn’t be bothered starting a fire, she switched on the power meter and turned on the electric kettle before moving back toward the lounge to lean against the door frame.

  “You misunderstood,” she told him. “Respecting someone doesn’t mean you blindly follow their orders. Sometimes we follow the orders of those we respect, but that is more to do with trust. In the Guard you follow the orders of your superiors because you trust that they know what they are doing to make the right call.” Ira grimaced slightly to herself, “Even if sometimes those orders are stupid.”

  Returning back to the kitchen Ira heard Magnus continue, “I imagine your brother follows your orders because he trusts you.
”

  “So how do I know if someone respects me?”

  “Well, sometimes respect means to simply honour the decision of another, even if you think it is the wrong choice,” Magnus continued. “Perhaps you hate green beans, and refuse to eat them. Your mother may think that you should eat them because they are good for you, but she respects you enough to give you the freedom to choose. If people value your opinion, even if it is only in making decisions about yourself, that is a sign of respect.”

  Twinkle-Toes thought about what Magnus said while Ira finished making tea. When she returned with two cups and a few biscuits he snagged one off the plate before asking,

  “What does that have to do with mistakes? I don’t like admitting when I have made a mistake.”

  “That is exactly the point,” Magnus explained, sipping on the scalding tea.

  Ira’s eyes widened in horror. Ouch! She would let hers cool to a balmy room temperature before she touched it. Thank you very much.

  He continued oblivious to her horror on behalf of all those that had feeling in their mouths. "When you own your errors you show others that you are honest, that they can believe what you say and value your words. This is the first step to building trust, the first step in demonstrating that if people listen to you, you will not let them down."

  Twinkle-Toes looked confused again. "You just talked about trust again, not respect."

  Ira rubbed her face in frustration, at this rate they would never get to why he was here. "It's complicated. The two are sides of the same coin. It is difficult to have respect without trust, as generally we respect those who have earned it through demonstrating traits we admire. It is not always the case, as you can respect someone's skill as a swordsman or cook for example without necessarily trusting them, but that is because they have demonstrated a proficiency in that skill that we find admirable. To respect someone in general, not just a certain skill or talent, they must demonstrate their value as a person by behaving in a way in their life that we approve of. And honesty is something most people admire, so showing you are trustworthy is a good way to start building both trust and respect."

  He looked at her blankly for a moment. Had she broken him?

  Twinkle-Toes blinked a few times then nodded at her. It would have to do.

  "Ok, so what were you here to tell me?"

  His eyes widened as though he had completely forgotten his original purpose,

  "Oh! The lemmings!" Was this kid serious?

  "What about the lemmings?" She was trying to sound patient but thought it may have come out more exasperated.

  "Well, my instructor said that lemmings don't commit suicide." God help her. "They jump off cliffs to search for new land when the colonies grow too big."

  Magnus nodded, his face attentive as though Lemming Boy-here was sharing a rare kernel of wisdom. He somehow managed to not look patronising. Impressive.

  "That's true. When a colony grows too large the resources become thinly spread. Rather than the whole colony starving due to lack of food, some of the lemmings will leave and look for new land to start a new family."

  Ira rubbed her eyes tiredly, "And what does this have to do with slugs?"

  Twinkle Toes looked confused. "I didn't ask him that, I just asked him to tell me again why lemmings committed suicide. When I explained that I told you the wrong information he insisted that I needed to come back and correct it."

  "Great." Ira got to her feet to indicate the conversation was finished. "Now that we've cleared that up, shouldn't you be getting home? Can we take you somewhere? It's late kiddo."

  "Why don't you grab your things Ira, and I'll take Adrian here home."

  She blinked at him in shock. He knew this kid? Did he just magically know everyone's names? She still hadn't asked him how he knew her name. She'd be sure to question him once Twinkle Toes, a.k.a Adrian, was back wherever he belonged and not sitting in her lounge room. Which reminded her.

  "How did you get in here? And for that matter, how did you know where I live?"

  Adrian looked at her in puzzlement, "I just walked in." He pointed toward the door that had been locked and deadbolted when she had arrived. Exactly the way she had left it. The way she always left it.

  She gave him a suspicious look, "Just walked into a locked house? I find that awfully hard to believe. Weren’t we just talking about the merits of honesty?”

  Now Adrian looked even more puzzled, and Magnus simply stood, and gestured a hand toward the door in the universal sign for, 'shall we?'.

  Ira huffed a breath. Fine. Maybe Mr Cool Cat would have an answer for her.

  *

  She spent as little time as possible grabbing a few changes of clothes and some extra weapons. She always wore two concealed daggers on her person, one inside her boot and another in a thigh sheath. These had been annoyingly confiscated by her captor earlier today, but he thankfully returned them without too much of a fight. Looked like Ira needed to work harder on making the threats to his testicles more believable if he was so willing that she stay armed.

  In addition to the knives, Ira grabbed her bow. Regrettably it was not the one that had been gifted to her by Bill and Clarisse as she had outgrown that many years ago. She also packed another six throwing daggers, and her short swords. Just because she couldn't beat the big palace guards, didn't mean she wasn't an excellent swordsman in her own right. She hadn't let her skill with a bow distract her from her training, and Bill was always willing to spar with her. Her gut clenched. How long had it been since she sparred with Bill? And now it would never happen again.

  Later, she scalded herself. Save it for later when she had the space and time to grieve them properly.

  Magnus was back from his errand suspiciously quickly.

  Speaking over her shoulder she asked, "Did you just ditch him at the corner or something? I know he doesn't live that close to me with his fancy clothes, so you can't have taken him home. If he told you otherwise you were played by a ten year old."

  She looked back to find Magnus leaning against the door frame, hands casually in his pockets. The jaguar on the prowl.

  His hazel eyes flared with heat when their gazes met, and she suddenly realised they were standing alone in her bedroom.

  Ira felt her body flush as warmth ran up her neck and across her face. She was frozen in place, rooted to the spot by a mixture of fear and desire.

  He padded toward her with his cat-like grace, closing the distance between them in only a few steps.

  She didn't know this man. Had met him barely hours ago, surrounded by the horror she found at the cottage, when her world collapsed into an abyss of roaring grief and pain.

  And yet, she could not deny that his presence soothed her. His warmth melting the ice and soothing the turmoil. When she was with him she felt momentarily at peace. The kind of peace you felt in the eye of a storm, when you knew that you were only moments away from being swallowed by the swell once more.

  Perhaps that was why she didn't pull away as he gently placed his palm against her cheek. His thumb stroked softly as his hand cupped her face.

  She waited for him to move, to lean into her and bring their bodies together in a frenzy of passion. A whirlwind of emotions that would help her escape. Help her mind find sanctuary, if only for a moment, in this constant battle to keep her feelings held down.

  But he didn't. He simply looked into her eyes as if searching for something. Waiting for the answer to a question he was silently asking.

  As she watched, the heat in his eyes began to bate and flare out, a look of sadness and compassion taking its place. Ira realised the answer he found had not been the one he was hoping for.

  Without releasing her cheek, he leaned forward and placed the softest of kisses against her lips.

  This gentle caress, too full of emotions and feelings, was too much. This wasn't what she wanted. She was a boiling pot of emotions on the verge of overflowing, and his tenderness would tip her over the edge. She couldn't bear
it.

  Turning her face away, she broke his hold on her cheek.

  There was a flash of disappointment across his face before he schooled his features into their usual mask of calm.

  Ira returned to her packing to hide her shaking hands and flushed face. She was embarrassed to have so nearly taken everything his eyes were offering. Embarrassed and ashamed.

  She had discovered Bill and Clarisse’s bodies only this afternoon, though it felt like a lifetime ago. She could not let herself get distracted from avenging her parent's deaths. Especially not by some pretty rich-boy from the south.

  She would stay on track. First things first, she needed some answers.

  Without turning from her task Ira asked, "Tell me how you know Adrian?"

  "I could ask you the same."

  It frustrated her that he returned to his easy relaxed self, as if their encounter mere moments ago never happened, while she was a jittery mess of embarrassment and shame. Well, if it meant so little to him that he could so quickly push it aside, so would she.

  "I only met him yesterday when walking back from the fields." Ira wasn't sure why she didn't state just how far into the fields she found Adrian. If Magnus truly knew the boy, perhaps he was friendly with his father and would tell of his son's wandering. For some reason she felt protective of the kid and didn't want him to suffer for his excursions. Especially when she had been happy for the company, and wouldn't want him to regret approaching her. "You clearly knew who he was. I didn't even know his name."

  Magnus thought for a moment, seeming to consider his next words. What came out of his mouth certainly wasn't what she expected.

  "What do you know of astral projection?"

  Completely unsure where he was headed with this, but keen to find out, she answered honestly.

  "Aside from the general theory - that a person could somehow separate their mind from their physical body - absolutely nothing."

  "Right," he nodded to her in agreement. "What if I was to tell you that there has been a large deal of research in different kinds of astral projection over the past few years, and that we now have concrete proof that at least one country has succeeded?"