Forge the Path of Sorcery

by NAK Baldron

  It took twenty minutes to circle around to the other side of Zilker Park and find an available parking spot. They used a public spot and paid for two hours in advance.

  From where they had to park, it took another thirty minutes to walk into Zilker Park where they could spy on the mayor.

  "Tell me again why we had to park so far away?" Kandice asked.

  "We can't park in the park, and we can't park outside his house. Did you expect this to be easy?"

  "No. But I thought we would stay in the car. That's what a stakeout is, right? Sitting in a car watching a target."

  Lance laughed. "I think you've watched one-to-many cop shows. Slava and I have done this several times, and only a handful of those were in the car. Plus, if someone comes by, we can pretend that we're out on a date and ditch the gear."

  Kandice blushed, thankful the park was dark. If only she led a simple enough life that allowed for walking through a park on a date. Lance's plan was sound, and her previous doubts faded. As they made their way through the tree brush, they came upon a small cliffside. Lance retrieved a pair of binoculars from the pack and scanned the neighborhood across the water.

  He handed Kandice the binoculars and pointed. "Look through there. I can see the house, and I think a study through the south window."

  It took Kandice a minute to get her bearings. The south window he was referring to had the curtains open—through it was a large wooden desk, and what looked like bookshelves behind it. This was the perfect spot to watch the house. They were less than two hundred yards away.

  Kandice handed the binoculars back and looked in her own pack. There were a pair of binoculars, a small telescope, and what looked to be a pair of night-vision goggles.

  "How long do you think we'll be here?" she asked.

  Lance looked at his watch. "We need to leave before five for sure, but we might have to leave sooner. I don't know if the police will do a sweep through the park, and if they do, how far they will come in."

  Kandice forgot they were in a park after hours and might get in trouble with the cops.

  First offense couldn't be a ticket, just a warning and being asked to leave, right?

  Horror stories of black men being killed in parks filled her mind, but Kandice assured herself it wouldn't happen to her. Not in Austin. Not with Lance here!

  She found a rock and sat down. There had to be a way to get comfortable and still see the house—it promised to be a long night. Lance remained standing. He resembled the guards that stood outside the castle of the Queen of England. He didn't move a hair—kept his focus on the house.

  Is he breathing?

  "Look," he said after a while.

  It caught Kandice off guard, and she jumped up and pointed her binoculars at the house. Two long, black SUVs pulled through the front gates. There was a werewolf in the back of the first one—so large, half its body stuck out the top of the roof. Almost like a prom-goer standing up through the sunroof, if it were a canine prom.

  When the werewolf exited, three guards exited the second SUV. One was a lobster looking Aether Walker, with claws for hands and a hard, rusty red shell. Its eyes were rather normal, but its face was out of place without a nose. The others were white normal men. They could have just as easily been guarding the president, as the Aether Walker mayor. The driver in the first SUV was a dark-haired woman in a midnight-blue cocktail dress.

  "Who's the woman?" she asked.

  "Can't tell. Can't see her face. Maybe a date, but I don't know why she would be driving then."

  Maybe it's her SUV?

  Kandice watched as the mayor made his way into the house. A few minutes later, the light in the study came on, and he walked in. However, he was no longer oversized—still a werewolf, but no taller than Lance.

  "That's enough." He repacked his bag. "Get the camcorder out of the front pocket."

  She unzipped the pocket and handed him the camcorder. Lance climbed a tree and placed it near the top.

  When he climbed down, he explained, "Not the best angle, but it will do, and no one should find it. I can get it tomorrow."

  He reached into his pack and pulled out an odd log of wood. It had symbols carved around it—a few of which Kandice recognized as planetary symbols from the Mesopotamian History book; they invented astrology—and a large blue stone at the top. He dug a shallow hole and buried the log inside.

  "What's that?" she asked.

  The book never mentioned a burial ritual.

  "It's a locating beacon," he said. "It helps Slava."

  He didn't elaborate further.

  Best not to pry.

  Kandice followed as he scurried out of the brush and through the park. They didn't come across anyone else until they reached the street.

  It was nearly 3:00 AM, and she needed to focus on schoolwork tomorrow. Her classes Monday wouldn't accept this weekend's events as an excuse for no homework. School felt like a waste of money. Hunting with Lance was more important than trying to get a degree for a job, in the grand scheme of things.

  When they returned to her old house, Slava was waiting with a bottle of vodka in hand. Kandice agreed to a small drink in celebration, but she left after her first glass rather than linger. Lance planned to debrief Slava, and Kandice needed to get back to her aunt's. Blake would be worried.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A morning breeze rattled the window shudders of the third-floor room, waking Ren from a deep sleep. The source-light was in its early morning position. Casting a faint glow, as the taller buildings around him blocked the direct light.

  Two days passed while Ren stayed in a rundown inn on the east side of the island. Finding a place to stay had been easy once he crossed the imaginary line, which divided the east third from the rest of the city. During the day there wasn't much difference between the two parts of the sprawling city. Come nightfall, the area around the inn came to life. The residents were just as obsessed with making money as their counterparts. But when darkness covered the island, music began, and a nightly celebration would last until the pale-gray light of early morning spread across the ocean's surface.

  Downstairs, Ren found breakfast waiting for him, courtesy of the inn's owner. One thing Ren quickly learned about the people of the Sapphire Nation is they took time to enjoy their food. Every morning a large pot of porridge was made for all the guests along with a chunk of pork. The food was nothing fancy, but it was well seasoned.

  When he finished his porridge and was halfway through his chunk of pork, he asked for a morning wine. The innkeeper added the wine to his tab as it cost less than a silver quarter. Nearly as clear as water, the wine had only the slightest hint of alcohol and tasted like a spring dew.

  Ren spent his first two days exploring the city and discovered a temple to Sueun. Inside a shrine depicted a figure cloaked in gold cloth, holding a scale in the right hand and a coin-bag in the other. Every citizen of the Sapphire Nation worshiped at an altar to Sueun. But the men around the east-side temple claimed theirs was the greatest in the nation.

  With his food finished, Ren stretched to help digestion. "What's another must-see for a traveler?" he asked the innkeeper. They'd discussed the temple the previous day.

  The innkeeper gathered Ren's dishes. "There's a market in the Bloody Square across the street. Everyone should see it at least once."

  "Bloody Square?"

  "Yes, it's an old name from long ago. You'll find exotic goods that you can't get anywhere else on the island. But keep your wits about you. It's a no-nonsense place, full of serious people." The innkeeper walked through a curtain, at the back of the inn, into the kitchen.

  Ren knew of the square, but he hadn't seen a market. Curiosity tickled his spine, and he walked out of the dimly lit inn onto the bright street. His eyes took a moment to adjust to blinding light. The source-light had moved high enough in the sky that it was no longer blocked by the fifty-foot-tall buildings. Which collectively made up the squared-off section of the city, known simply
as the Bloody Square. Aside from the two thirty-feet-tall, wooden gates—wide enough for six men to walk through, shoulder to shoulder—the square was sealed off from the rest of the city. In effect, it was a city within a city.

  Ren passed through the gates, held wide open by hemp-ropes, the same kind used on Captain Kaito's ship. From inside the Bloody Square, he realized the sheer size of it—nearly a quarter-mile squared. The building facade stood in contrast to its outside. Where the outside walls were made of thirty feet of solid stone before tiny windows began, barely large enough for Ren to stick his hand through. The inside walls were more window-holes than stone. Most had their shutters opened to allow the fresh air in. Running from the tops of the buildings were rope lines. Multiple layers of clothes hung out to dry in the morning light.

  Ren hadn't walked twenty steps before a group of rough-looking men approached him. Pressed against the stone walls, he had nowhere to go unless he was willing to walk into a stranger's house.

  "Where you from, boy?" the shortest of the men said. The top of his head barely reached Ren's nose, but the two men on either side were built like freight ships, tall and broad-shouldered.

  "Pearl Nation." Ren offered up in his most convincing, I-have-nothing-to-hide, voice. "Got here three days ago and thought I'd take in some of the sights. The owner of the Pink Dolphin recommended I visit the market and see the Bloody Square."

  "You're in luck then." The short man flashed a smile which showed more golden teeth than not. His front tooth caught the light and a tiny sapphire set in gold, glistened blue.

  Ren tried to step back but bumped into the railing of the porch behind him. The tall man to Ren's right placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

  He'd crush my head with one grasp.

  The man's forearm was tanned the dark brown of boat-wood and tattooed with ink as black as coal—a broken anchor with a sword cutting it in half.

  "Come," the short man said. "We'll show you the way."

  Fearing the worst, Ren allowed the men to lead him through the crowds of people, looking for any opportunity to slip away.

  What the fuck had the innkeeper been thinking?

  "I'm called Dai." The short man puffed up his chest as if it would make him grow as tall as the twins he kept close by. He wore a brown leather waistcoat over his bare skin, which had darkened to an almost identical fawn hue. "That's Hisoka." Dai thumbed toward the man guiding Ren along. "And that's Jun."

  Upon a closer look, the two men were in fact twins. Even down to the tattoos of black spirals and knots on their arms.

  "What do you need from our market?"

  "I'm not sure," Ren answered honestly. "I was told everyone should see the market at least once."

  They stopped walking. Dai faced Ren and lowered his voice. "The market is not a tourist spot. It's a place where the best people of Shinzo conduct serious business."

  Dai and Ren didn't break eye contact for a long enough moment that Ren's eyes began to water, and he blinked. At which point, Dai punched him lightly in the arm. "Gambling. That's why you'll visit." He let out a hearty laugh that reminded Ren of Captain Kaito. "Nothing like a friendly wager to display reverence to Sueun."

  They continued walking, but this time Hisoka and Jun directed Ren with hands on his shoulders.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sapphire Nation, Fencura

  Sweat stung Shaya's eyes. The morning light reflected off the black-tar rooftops turning them into stove tops. A pack of seagulls flew overhead, a lucky sign from Sueun. They blessed her day.

  About fucking time!

  Her clan had been cursed for so long a good sign was welcome. Maybe her twelve years as Kaito-Tanken were finally starting to pay off. She crouched lower allowing her knees to scrape against the rough gravel protecting the roof. From her vantage point, the people in the square below were hard to make out. They were blurs of color.

  For three days she'd sensed a sorcerer around their square, but that was absurd. No imperial caster would venture to the east side of the island, much less the Bloody Square. The Emperor knew the consequences. It would mean another war. But just in case, she had to verify. With the examination days away, foreigners would start arriving on the island, but they'd not be staying eastside. If she were lucky enough to find an unsworn sorcerer, she could use them to help her clan.

  Akio, her first sworn, mingled in the crowd below awaiting her signal. The bright orange hood he wore—the color of the rising source-light—allowed Shaya to single him out from fifty feet up.

  There was a commotion at the west gate. Dai and his damn gang were frisking someone. She'd recognize Hisoka and Jun from any distance. They literally stood out from the crowd. Towering over other men, crowds parted as they led their "guest" away.

  No doubt headed to Hiroshi.

  It was none of her business, but something drew her to the person they led. A tiny silver whistle hung from a chain around Shaya's neck, and she pulled it out from under her sea-green silk tunic, three quick bursts, and the sound of a school of dolphins filled the square. Akio would watch for her descent.

  Careful not to cut her hands on the roof, Shaya used the ledge to lower herself onto her fifth-floor balcony. The sturdy clothesline supported her weight as she walked with perfect balance to just above Dai's group.

  She slipped off the line, catching it with both hands to slow her fall, then dropped to the next, and the next, leaving her hanging fifteen feet in the air. The moment Dai's group was clear, she dropped behind them and bounced off the balls of her feet into a shoulder roll.

  Shaya popped up into a crouched fighting stance at the exact moment Hisoka and Jun turned to face her with dual street-blades drawn. Each blade was the length of four-hands and made of wicked steel—produced by hammering the blade's steel upon itself until it curved into a grin. The finest type of steel one could buy from the Ruby Nation's smiths.

  Her fist clenched the handle of her sword but left it inside her bone sheath. A crimson sash kept it secured during her acrobatic entrance.

  "Dai!" Her voice cut through the marketplace and echoed off the square's stone. "Tell your men to sheath their weapons, or you die first."

  Right on cue, Akio slapped his fencing daggers together causing Dai to jerk his head behind him. Akio was no longer the little boy who prostrated himself before Shaya at her brother's funeral. He was the fastest blade in Shinzo. Not even drunk on wine and madly in love, would any man dare duel him in a heat of passion. Yet, honor had forced many men to face their deaths at the end of those daggers. Always better to die than face dishonor.

  Nearly five hundred people stood silent inside the Bloody Square, wearing faces of stone. Even the children knew to be silent, though they showed their emotions. The silence lingered.

  "Dai!"

  He turned to meet her eyes.

  "Don't do this," she said.

  "Goruden-Tanken Hiroshi—" Dai started.

  "Hiroshi, nothing!" She cut his words off and her voice threatened to do the same to his head. "You are not of the Goruden. Honor does not protect you!"

  Akio took one extended step with slow deliberate action—putting Dai inside Akio's death circle—for all to see. If Shaya ordered it, Dai would be dead before he blinked.

  "Dai." She shook her head.

  The outcome of the fight was decided before it began. There was no need to spill blood, and Dai was partially right. Hiroshi would take it as an insult if she killed Dai's gang, but the clan laws were clear. Dai was a familiar, not a clan member.

  "Do as she says," Dai said, and his men sheathed their street-blades. "What do you want?"

  Akio pointed his dagger toward Dai.

  "Kaito-Tanken Shaya." Dai bowed more deeply than customs demanded.

  Akio turned to the crowd and signaled with his blades. Suddenly the market was back in action, though shifted at least twenty feet away from them in all directions, creating a circle of privacy.

  Shaya took several steps closer to Dai's gang, but
kept more than a lunge distance between her and Jun, just in case. The stranger was a boy, young by the looks of him, but she couldn't place where he was from. Blond hair and blue eyes, he looked like the mythical men of the sea, spoken of by Sueun priests. His hair looked almost like the people of the Pearl Nation, but not quite. Regardless, he was the sorcerer she felt, there was no doubt.

  "I want the boy."

  "Why?" Dai asked. "He's not from here, just arrived, or so he was telling us. I was on my way to introduce him to Hiroshi and teach him a few of our local games."

  "Really?" She raised a single eyebrow.

  Jun and his twin drummed their fingers on the hilts of their street-blades in rhythmic unison. They weren't the type of men to settle disputes with words. Their exposed right calves bore the black tally marks of the men they'd killed.

  Akio on the other hand watched the surrounding crowds and stared off at the clouds in the sky. He watched anywhere but the conversation at hand, without the slightest sign of worry.

  Dai's skin grew shiny, although they stood in the shade of the towering buildings. "Yes. The boy wanted to see the Bloody Square, and I thought it best he sees the real square."

  "Very well." She straightened herself, then stretched her back in an arch with both hands in the air. "We'll go meet Hiroshi on this blessed day."

  "Blessed Sueun." The five of them said in unison—only the stranger stayed silent.

  "Do you agree?" Shaya asked the strange boy.

  "Yes." He nodded his head vigorously. Her voice had made it clear the question was rhetorical.

  "Dai, you and Akio lead the way. I'd like to speak with the boy alone."

  Dai opened his mouth but seemed to think better of whatever he'd been about to say and signaled for the twins to follow.

  Akio led the way, twirling his daggers and juggling them as they passed children. One boy, no older than six, held up an apple in both hands. Akio flung his dagger with perfect precision, driving the blade into the core of the apple, but ensuring it didn't puncture the opposite side. Retrieving his dagger, Akio cut the apple and handed it back to him. The boy's mother watched silently with a stone face, but her eyes shone with fear. Shaya watched the mother scold her son after they passed.