Aldon veered south as he walked, passing the turn for home. He kept his hands in his waistcoat pockets while he thought on problems too numerous to tackle in one evening’s walk. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.
Golden lines of enchantment ran in perfect rows along the curbs of the streets and the stone walls of buildings, weaving together at right angles like a grid. It was an aesthetic choice. Vacua used geometric shapes in its design, but every nation was different. Rosewall’s cities typically encompassed natural formations and landscapes. They built their towns into cascades of waterfalls and cities integrated with dense jungles. Their enchantments snaked like vines in spiraling, looping patterns. One day, Aldon would travel Liore and his first stop would be Rosewall.
The wind picked up and Aldon wasn’t dressed for the weather. He wore a simple three-piece suit, well-worn and humble, and the wind slipped right through to his skin. He had no destination in mind. He knew Azlemaine from a bird’s eye view, from maps and charts. It wasn’t long before he was lost.
People lingered in the streets, but Aldon talked to no one. He stopped briefly to watch a group of children play in a circle of light from a street sphere. They chanted a rhyme together as enchanted rope turned in continuous time to their jumps.
Aldon walked until he noticed an unexpected familiar face. He crossed the street toward an enchanter’s shop set into a row of buildings. Standing in front of it was a woman dressed in the pink and black uniform of the Roseguard. The pink clashed with the rich copper tones of her hair, but Caprice Arvet was the sort of person who was objectively beautiful, because she was too compassionate and gentle a soul for it to ever be questioned. He raised his hand in greeting and said, “Hello, Miss Arvet. What are you doing out at this hour?”
Caprice beamed. “Working, of course.”
His heart flipped. He looked up and down the street quickly. “I don’t see the Ambassador.”
“He’s just inside,” Caprice motioned to the shop behind her, “And instructed me to wait here. What are you doing about as such an hour, hm? Surely nothing nefarious, if I know you at all.” Her grin was teasing, in a friendly sort of way. Caprice had the unique ability to ensnare friendship without seeming to use any effort. At a glance, she was slight of figure with a charming smile and possessed a cheerful confidence that rendered you instantly at ease. It was hard to imagine she could immobilize him without batting an eye.
“No, of course,” he agreed, though he was looking past her now, to the shop window. “I went for a walk to clear my head.” He should turn around and leave. It wasn’t smart to push this encounter. But even as he wanted to run, he was finding an excuse to go inside. “I think I might stop in here and see what sort of weapons they enchant.”
Caprice rolled her eyes as Aldon stood in place. He couldn’t see the Rosewall Ambassador from here, the shelves were too high. He lost his nerve.
“So. How’s your grandfather doing? Better I hope,” Aldon asked, as his shoulders slumped and his eyes kept shifting up to the window.
“Yes, better. It’s a small village so everyone has been by to check on him…” Caprice tilted her head in front of his face, “Having trouble?”
“I…”
“Listen, it’s not my business, but...there’s a reason it didn’t work out.”
Aldon’s gaze snapped to her, to the warm smile and kind eyes. He said nothing.
“Go in or don’t, but you need to pick one,” she said, and then she pretended to browse the shop window next door.
Aldon released his breath. He reached out for the door.
Inside the shop, the temperature dropped instantly. Aldon’s breath puffed out in a tiny cloud. The floral sweet smell of Glint was pungent in the cramped space. Objects sat on rows of displays and shelves, occasionally omitting a glow or pulse. Up the walls on either side of the entrance were scrawls of detailed codes. A muddled mixture of numbers and letters too complex for the casual glance of a novice. They meant something to the enchanter, but Aldon’s vision glazed as it skimmed the thinly scrawled list of fractions and mathematical symbols.
The display cases and shelves of merchandise waiting to be enchanted took up most of the shop’s lobby. File cabinets were lined up floor to ceiling behind the shop’s counter on either side of an archway leading to the shop’s backrooms. Ambassador Laine Kura had turned to the tinny sound of the shop’s bell as Aldon let the door close.
Aldon considered pretending he hadn’t noticed the Ambassador, but then changed his mind. He smiled and waved, not sure how to proceed. Ambassador Kura was a dignified figure. Always smiling and cordial, but also attentive. With a distance in his gaze that suggested his mind was moving faster than the conversation. Aldon loved listening to him in debates. He respected Kura, more than he did most politicians he met. More than politicians like Ambassador Alexi Stanislav who’s every word sounded laced with ulterior motive.
The shopkeeper spun on his ladder. Aldon had yet to find an enchanter without a tie, a pair of glasses, and some sort of allergy. The shopkeeper’s thin black gloves hung from his breast pocket to protect his skin when he handled Glint. He shoved folders and papers back into a file drawer, tucking a few under his arm as he descended the ladder.
Ambassador Kura nodded and waved him over. “Aldon, this is a surprise. What brings you out so late?”
The shopkeeper looked to each of them, as if unsure who he should assist. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Aldon noticed because he was looking everywhere except the Ambassador. He began to fidget with the knot of his tie.
“Just taking a walk,” Aldon said as he leaned into the counter. A habit he developed to find the nearest stable surface to help him balance. “Thought I would check in here to see about a special enchantment. Caprice said you’d be inside.”
The shopkeeper stepped forward and asked, “What enchantment are you looking for?”
Aldon drummed his fingers on the counter. His gaze kept shifting to Kura, who, he noticed, was not wearing the formal attire he usually wore to court. This was his recreation time. His dark hair wasn’t pushed back and sleek, but free to fall over his forehead. If Aldon passed him on the street he might not recognize him. “I was hoping for something that would compensate for poor aim. Help with accuracy.”
The shopkeeper scratched his chin, looking uneasy. “Oh boy,” he began, “Those sorts of enchantments require a special clearance. They’re strict about what I can put onto weapons. You could, er, try up at Court. See if you could talk to someone in the Enchantment Bureau—” The shopkeeper’s stare went over Aldon’s shoulder for the briefest second before he finished quickly, “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
Aldon’s smile dimmed. “My apologies, for taking up your time.”
“It’s no trouble.” The shopkeeper dabbed his forehead as he waved away the apology. He stole a glance at the clock sitting high on the wall and then added, “Well, I think I’ll be closing up shop after I finish with the, uh, Ambassador’s order. You come back once you’ve talked to the bureau. Have a nice evening.” He tugged on his collar.
Aldon considered leaving, but instead asked, “Forgive me if this is out of place, but…are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” The shopkeeper broke into a chuckle, his hands practically raised in surrender, “Fine. It’s been a long day and it’s rather hot in here, that’s all.”
An awkward silence descended on the shop. Then Ambassador Kura and the shopkeeper shared a look that made Aldon’s heart clench. Well. That explained it.
Not that he should care. The decision not to pursue a relationship had been...mutual. In politics, relationships were best left out of the mix. The fourteen year age difference didn’t help anything. So their one-time one-night not-quite hook up was entirely forgotten.
Except that it wasn’t. Because somehow jealousy flared up in Aldon’s chest. Suddenly, Aldon was very aware of why Kura might be in a shop like this at such an hour, right before the shop might close.
/> “Well, it’s getting late. Good evening, Ambassador Kura,” Aldon bowed his head, as was the formal greeting and goodbye for foreign allies, and headed for the door. He had almost reached it when a chill crawled up his spine.
He paused. Uncertain. Unease churned in his stomach. Alarms were going off in his head. Aldon didn’t know what he was waiting for until he realized he could no longer see Caprice standing guard outside. She was gone.
Never in Aldon’s life did a moment pull his awareness to his own heart’s beating and how loud it hammered in his ear. Calm descended around him, an unnatural stillness. He headed back for Laine.
“Ambassador Kura, we should—”
A thunderous rumble shattered the quiet, propelling everyone to the ground. Aldon crashed into a display. He grasped the frame as his equilibrium fought for balance. His head pounded. His ear rang. Frustration mixed with his fear and confusion. He forced himself to his feet and concentrated on regaining his balance. He had learned to compensate for the imbalance of one ear, but it was impossible with the lingering tinnitus.
Smoke billowed from the shop’s backrooms. Dirt and debris were scattered around him. Shadows began to shift in the smoke. Multiple people were moving amongst the carnage.
Aldon found the Ambassador next to him. Dust coated his hair, but he appeared unharmed. His face looked more angry than afraid, but there wasn’t time for Aldon to sort out why. Voices carried to the lobby. Aldon looked for the shopkeeper, but he was standing too far away.
As the shadows and voices drew closer, Aldon reacted instinctively. He grabbed the Ambassador and rolled the both of them behind one of the tall shelves. They could no longer see what was happening, but more important was that they couldn’t be seen, either. Aldon held his breath as he listened.
“Foster, there you are. Didn’t you hear the signal?” A woman’s voice, cooing and slightly raspy. She spoke with a lyrical, mocking inflection. “Fel, dear, find the Ambassador for me, the one whose guard was out front.”
Aldon leaned into the shelf as he tried to conjure a plan.
He heard footsteps on the tile.
He wiped his slick palms down his pant leg. What can I do?
The Ambassador peered around their shelter. He picked up a shard of metal and started to crawl through the debris. Aldon closed his eyes as a little voice repeated. You can’t do anything.
Aldon threw his head back. Fear rooted him to the floor. Constricted him. Crushed him. Fear and doubt.
A horrible crunching sound filled the room. Then a crash as something solid and heavy hit the floor. The woman’s raspy voice once again projected through the shop, “Stop wasting time moving shit around and just find him. Kade wanted this to be clean and I already had to blow a hole in this wall.” Her voice turned pouty, “Now I’ll have to fix it.”
Aldon tried to coax his heart to slow down. Kade. Kade? He knew that name. Where did he know—
His adrenaline flushed out his ability to think. It took him too long to remember that Kade was the known leader of the Free Chanters.
Aldon swallowed his fear. Swallowed his doubt. Pushed it all deep, deep down. He set his trembling hands down to adjust his position and his fingers landed on a wooden handle. A screwdriver. He picked it up.
He gripped the screwdriver like a knife as he listened to the steady footfalls over tile. Aldon focused on staying calm and tried to judge how far away the steps were. This was not a fight he could win, but he wasn’t going to go down easy. Not like some frail, pampered politician, but like someone backed into a corner with a screwdriver and an overwhelming need to just be useful.
A shadow formed over the floor just beyond Aldon’s hiding place. He couldn’t see the Ambassador anymore, but he knew he hadn’t been found yet. His jittery fingers lifted and closed over the screwdriver handle. His body teetered with anticipation of a strike.
Aldon’s eyes were glued to the shadow. It wasn’t moving.
His eyelid twitched with the need to blink. Why wasn’t it moving?
As he waited, his mind went crazy. His nerves were barely holding together and then…
Everything shut down. His mind. His nerves. Aldon was hit with a singular moment of clarity. A focused, driving impulse compelled him to action. He didn’t wait on the shadow, but instead lunged from cover to attack. Aldon plunged the screwdriver down at the first object he saw while he shouted for the Ambassador to run. He was blinded by tunnel vision and oblivious to the fallout of his actions.
Then his body switched back on and anxiety poured through him like a blast of ice water. And he saw just how stupid his actions had been.
A hand caught Aldon’s wrist and all downward momentum halted. The screwdriver barely nicked the knitted fabric of the Chanter’s sweater. Aldon’s eyes raked up toward a face, passing over the black lines of a tattoo spiraling up the man’s neck. Breath puffed from Aldon’s nose in quick, panting succession. He met the man’s eyes and saw clearly that the left was green and the right was blue. And for the span of a heartbeat time froze.
Until it wasn’t. The screwdriver was plucked from Aldon’s hand and tossed away with a scattered clang.
“Who the hell is that?” Asked the woman with the raspy voice, “That’s not an ambassador.”
It took Aldon a minute to realize that he still had a free arm. He made a fist and swung. Pain exploded in his knuckles, but he was now free. The man spun on his heel and reached up to cradle his face. Aldon ran.
He ran away from the door, away from freedom, and toward the Ambassador. He slid to a stop and caught himself on a display. “We can make it to the door if we move now.” He held out his hand.
The Ambassador didn’t respond, his gaze focused elsewhere. By the time Aldon repeated his plea and reached out for Kura, it was too late. The Chanter had recovered. The merchandise on the shelf rose into the air and spun like they were caught in a cyclone. The Chanter’s fingers and hands moved quickly, purposefully, in a way that almost looked...familiar.
But Aldon didn’t get the chance to reflect further. The objects spinning overhead suddenly fused together and in the next instant his wrists were shackled together by the crude materials. Ambassador Kura as well.
“Two?” The woman looked Aldon over. The spikes of her red and black hair bobbed with her head as she talked. “And a politician by the look of his clothes. How interesting.”
The shopkeeper was in the corner with his head low. Compliant. He wouldn’t be any help.
“The guard,” Aldon said suddenly, “The one outside, where is she? Is she hurt? You didn’t—”
“Kill her? No.” The woman laughed. “Just immobilized. As for you two, however, I think there’s potential leverage here. So leaving either of you behind is pointless.”
“Surely you don’t need both of us,” Ambassador Kura’s eyes were daggers as he spoke, his jaw tense. “I’m worth ten times what he is, he’s nobody. Let him go and take me.”
Aldon’s mouth fell open. He was standing in the midst of chaos, Chanters about to take him prisoner and his entire world was about to be radically altered. Yet, for a moment, when Kura attempted to save him, he was okay.
“Nice try, but no,” she replied.
“I’d be careful who I cross. I have more influence than you realize.”
She dipped low, setting her elbows on the counter. “I’ll bet that works on some people, but I couldn’t give a single fuck about who you are.” She snapped her fingers. “Fel! Get them to the transport. It’s a long way back.”
Aldon stumbled as his bonds dragged him forward. They were led out the back entrance, toward the small Geist waiting in an alley. Aldon began to yell for help and he hoped to draw attention. With luck, a passing legionnaire would hear him. He screamed until his throat hurt and thrashed against his bonds. He kept losing his balance and each time the Chanter with the tattoos caught him and set him back on his feet. The alley stunk and flies gathered, but it was paradise compared to what getting into that Giest would me
an for them.
“Enough, damn it.” The woman grabbed Ambassador Kura by the throat. “One more sound and I squeeze.”
Aldon lowered his head, silent.
“On second thought, it might be easier if you’re unconscious,” She said flippantly.
“Wait—no—”
She set her fingers on Aldon’s chest. Warmth tingled over his skin as he felt the pull of oblivion. He struggled and squirmed as his eyes closed and his strength drained. His mind fogged over. He grasped onto one final thought as the blanket of sleep smothered the last of his will.
He was a prisoner.
CHAPTER TEN
THE QUEEN’S VERY REAL, HONEST, PLAN TO RESCUE THE AMBASSADOR AND THAT OTHER GUY
The news reached Queen Havinnia in the middle of breakfast. A spread of fruits, bread, and muffins just pulled from the ovens with pitchers of freshly squeezed juice and a still steaming pot of tea. At a table long enough for twenty sat two women. One sat at the head, the other lounged over a book with a finger crooked through the handle of a teacup. Havinnia’s days were busy, they were scheduled to the minute, but breakfast was for family.
Havinnia Oakhaven pinched a document between her fingers. It was an official report collected by a Legion LP when responding to the scene of a Free Chanter break-in at a local enchanter’s shop near the southern districts. She skimmed the layers of technical jargon and by-the-book information, over the itemized list of the stolen goods, over the witness list that included the shop owner and a member of the Roseguard, down and down she read until she reached two names that stopped her cold. Ambassador Laine Kura and Junior Councilmember Aldon Ackerman had been taken during the attack. Status unknown. Presumed alive.
“What is it?” Jordana straightened in her chair and set down her book. “What happened now?” Her tone was resolved, too many interrupted breakfasts lately. Havinnia’s heart ached as she pushed out her chair and stood. She looked up, into the soft, questioning eyes of her wife and a familiar tug of weakness beckoned her to sit. To take the comfort. To fall into Jordana’s lap and let the world destroy itself without her.
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