Breigh pulled, and the huge man's anguished scream could have curdled blood. Devan, Nalan, and Tolem all turned to Allister, their eyes a mix of astonishment and accusation. Allister's huge eyes were fixed on Breigh. From the stage, Breigh looked down at him, at a loss as to what to do next, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was still holding Fatalo's thick, brawny arm...which she’d inadvertently torn off at the shoulder.
The horrified crowd fell silent, except for the quiet sobbing of children and mighty Fatalo’s agonized whimpers.
Devan’s eyes flashed left and right; then, suddenly inspired, he pointed to Fatalo's arm and raised his hands in the air.
Breigh turned to look out over the audience. With both hands, she raised the severed limb over her head and roared. A moment later, having come to terms with its shock and grief, the crowd roared with her.
Allister covered his mouth with both hands. Nalan looked like he wanted to throw up. Devan beamed, shaking Nalan playfully by the back of the neck.
“This,” Devan said, “is going to work.”
Devan looked across the table and found Phaedra already watching him, her perfect face tilted down, her smoky eyes looking up.
Over the din of the crowd, the band started playing again. Devan smiled and took her hand. “Care to dance?”
Hands still clamped over his mouth, Allister barely noticed as Phaedra pulled Devan out onto the dance floor. He barely noticed as Nalan shuffled away making sickly little burping noises. Up on stage, Breigh swung Fatalo’s arm around in a great circle, painting the white silk wall hangings behind her in streaks of crimson.
“This is going to work,” Allister said, trying hard to convince himself. “This is going to work.”
Zella
Allister laughed nervously. “Wow. You...you like some really nasty stuff.”
“Stay out of my 'stuff,'“ Samus replied, distantly. He was focused on the drawing he was making of the lock as it appeared in Allister's mind.
“Sorry, that's my fault,” Zella said, her eyes never opening. With a little extra effort, she closed off the parts of Samus' mind Allister didn't need to touch, allowing the two to only share Allister's memory of the lock.
“You're not used to doing this,” Samus said, stating an observation.
“Not typically.” Zella bristled at what Samus seemed to be implying.
“Hm,” Samus sniffed, continuing his work.
Their suite in Kauleth wasn’t nearly as large or as grand as their accommodations in The Palace, but it had at least come with a very large dining table for Samus to work at, if one could call what he was doing ‘working’. He had erased more lines than were currently on the page in front of him. Samus shook his head in frustration, growled, and, finally, tore the page from his sketchbook and crushed it into a ball. “This isn't working,” he said. “The picture in this spastic rat's head keeps changing. How can I possibly draw this?”
“Look,” Allister said, jumping up out of his chair and away from Zella's touch. “If I'd known I was going to have Molesto the Terrible here poking his gross brain into my head, I would've asked the guards to bring me a chair so I could sit there, in the casino vault, and work on memorizing it.”
Breaking her connection with the two, Zella slumped in her seat and rubbed her temples. “Then we have a problem, don't we?”
---
“Opening the vault lock requires three things,” Allister said, standing at the head of the table.
Zella settled into her chair beside Devan; Tolem, Nalan, and Breigh were seated, listening.
“First, we need someone who can actually see the lock. That’s me. Second, we need someone who can interact with the lock. Our solution to that is having Zella manifest an Inflection of Faerathore. And third, we need someone who can pick the lock. Since I’m pretty much crap with my hands and Zella’s even—”
Zella leaned forward in her seat and narrowed her eyes at Allister.
“—tually…going to…get around to learning how to pick locks…” Allister stammered, grinning nervously, “that means we would also need Nalan involved.”
“What we need is one person who can do all three things,” Zella said. “And since we don't have a person like that...” She blinked twice and Allister’s face vanished, hidden behind an image of Nalan’s. “...we're going to have to make one.”
Allister pawed at his face. “Huh,” he said, speaking in Nalan’s monotone voice. “I always assumed it would hurt to be homely. Suddenly I don’t feel so bad for you, Nalan.”
“Ha!” Breigh laughed, clapping her huge hands together. Nalan reached across the table and whacked Allister on the arm.
“Z!” Devan exclaimed. “You can transfer an Inflection to another person? I didn't know you could do that!”
“Neither did I, until about an hour ago,” Zella said with practiced nonchalance. In truth, she was awfully proud of herself. Instructor Hellegard had hinted that such things were possible, but Zella had never explored the possibility herself.
“Is it hard?” Devan pressed.
“Surprisingly, no,” she said, dissolving the inflection as Allister sat down. “Once I built it and passed it to Allister, the hard work was done. It's a little like spinning a ball. It'll keep spinning; I just need to reach out and give it a little push every once in a while.”
“Which leaves her open to connect my mind with Nalan's,” Allister explained, “like she's doing right now. That way I can help him see the world the way I see it.”
Breigh looked to Nalan and smiled. “Nalan. You can see magic?”
Nalan nodded, a faraway look in his eyes.
“What's it look like?” Devan asked.
Nalan looked around the room. “Swirly,” he said with deep reverence.
“The poets and philosophers can all give up and die now,” Allister said, shaking his head sadly. With a curt nod, Zella retracted her gift. Nalan blinked. He looked disappointed.
“This is good,” Tolem said, scratching his beard in deep thought. “This is good.”
Devan nodded, casting an eye around the table. “Fight night. It’s one week from today. Tolem’s running interference, keeping the guards distracted. Breigh?”
“I shall be in the coliseum,” she proclaimed. “I shall slay Arachnus of the Fall...but not for ten minutes.”
“Well before the fight starts, Allister and I make our way back to the lock room,” Devan said. “I'll have Phaedra sneak me and Allister back into the corridors in a food cart.”
“I hit the guards with a freeze spell...” Allister said.
“Then I pry out the icons...” said Devan.
“...and I try and mask the icons' magical footprint,” said Allister.
Zella chimed in. “That footprint is going to be huge. Walking those through the casino, surrounded by mages...”
Devan reached over and squeezed Nalan on the shoulder. “Fortunately, Nalan has the floor's hourly crew rotation mapped out to the minute. If we time this right, we should be able to slip right through a nice wide window in the floor mages' patrols.”
Tolem nodded. “Okay. And once you get to the other side of the hall, you take the service stairway all the way down to the airship bay.”
“That's where I am,” Nalan said, “sabotaging the other airships and getting ours ready for launch.”
“Do we have an airship?” Allister asked. “That seems like an important thing to make sure we have nailed down at this point.”
“It's being delivered to The Palace today,” Tolem said. “As far as the airship bay's crew knows, it belongs to a wealthy baron who's giving it to one of his mistresses as a birthday present.”
“It’ll need to be fast,” Zella pointed out. “If we’re assuming that the only thing keeping Phaedra from bringing the guards down on us is the threat of our ‘bomb,’ then the guards will wait until we’re outside before they try and nab us.”
“It’s not the ship that needs to be fast,” Breigh said, gripping Alli
ster by the back of the neck and shaking him affectionately. “It’s the driver who needs to be amazing.”
Allister just chuckled nervously and looked at the floor.
“The ship will have a big enclosed cabin area.” Nalan pointed at Devan and Allister. “Once you two arrive, we set up the icons in the ship and, with Zella's help, I open it.”
“Without the bay crew noticing,” Devan said.
“And then I fly us out.” Allister smiled. “Easiest thing in the world.”
“Leaving the hard stuff for me,” Zella said, straightening in her seat. “I'll be up in the mezzanine with Faerathore and his entourage. I'll keep an eye on the clock and signal to Breigh when it's time to end the fight.”
“How?” Tolem asked.
“I've got this shrill little bell,” Zella replied. “Breigh knows it. She'll know it's me.” Of course, there would be no bell. Zella wasn't kidding when she said she didn't want Tolem knowing about her ability to form a mental link with the others. And he certainly hadn't given her any more reason to trust him since they'd arrived at The Palace.
“But more importantly,” she said, “I'll need to find a way to build an Inflection of him.”
“Zella, Is there no way to get the Inflection before tomorrow night?” Nalan asked.
“I know I'd feel better if there was,” Tolem said pointedly.
Zella eyed Tolem. There it was again. That aggravating sense of inevitability that always came up just before Tolem said ‘No.’ Zella shook her head. “I've been trying. Faerathore never leaves The Palace's operations suite.”
Tolem scoffed. “Surely he leaves sometime.”
“No. He doesn't,” Zella enunciated her words hard. “If it makes you feel better, Samus backs me up on this. Faerathore runs like a precision watch; he works all the time. The only times he leaves the suite that we know of are on fight nights. And then, it's to glad hand the high rollers. If I'm going to get him, it'll have to be that night.”
Tolem grunted his disapproval. “All right,” he said at last.
With that, Zella relaxed a bit. She was relieved; she’d been preparing all day for a fight over this.
But then, Devan leaned forward and, after a moment's hesitation, asked slowly, “Z...you need to make an intense emotional connection with a person to make an inflection. How are you going to go about making that kind of connection with the Lieutenant?”
Zella looked back over at Tolem, and found him watching her intently. She took a deep breath and prepared for the fight to begin.
“Samus is going to introduce me to Faerathore as a former captain of the Azjeeri guard with the Sultan's security detail.”
Allister snorted audibly. “A captain of the guard? So, you would've been recruited, when? At six years old?”
Zella shot him an eyeful of hate. Allister stopped laughing.
“Z wouldn't be the youngest captain of the guard on record,” Devan said, helpfully. “The Sultan actually names quite a few cadets to captains' posts.”
“If they suck his cock,” Tolem added, significantly. He watched Zella for a reaction. She didn't give him one.
“The idea is, I'll be there trying to sell him my recommendations on how to improve security at The Palace.”
“And he'll be so impressed with you and your ideas that you'll be able to pull an Inflection off that?” Devan asked.
Zella nodded. “That's the plan.”
Breigh nodded too, although with less certainty in her eyes. “A...bold plan.”
Allister said nothing. Nalan followed suit.
Tolem didn't. “You'd be better off sucking his cock,” he said, stone-faced.
His words hung in the air for a long time before Zella replied. “Well, that's not the way I'm going to play this,” she said.
Tolem leaned into the table, staring right into Zella's eyes. “Be fucking serious,” he said.
The blood drained from Nalan's face. He and Allister turned and looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes.
Zella could feel her blood boiling behind her eyes, but she kept her tone even. “I'm sorry, Tolem,” she said, leaning in too. “Did I strike you as the joking type?”
“Up to this moment, no,” Tolem said. “Up to this moment, I thought he was the joking type.” He jerked a thumb at Devan, who sat upright, confused. “I'd expect this kind of shit from him, with his weird, naive, 'What a grand adventure we're all on' thing he does. But you? You, I thought had more sense than this.”
“What, because I won't fuck Faerathore?” Zella was standing now. “Not for a job. Not for you. Not for Devan. Not for anybody.”
Tolem sat back in his chair and laughed caustically. “You kids. You...” He pointed at Zella. “...are betrothed to him...” He pointed to Allister. “...but you're fucking him.” He pointed at Devan.”You…” Tolem pointed at Allister again. “...are betrothed to her...” He pointed at Zella. “...but you're fucking her.” He pointed at Breigh. Breigh’s eyes were doing dangerous things in Tolem's direction.
“Yeah, that's right,” Zella said. “And if you must know? Over the years, I've also fucked him...” She pointed at Allister. “...And her...” She pointed at Breigh. “...and I would have fucked him too...” She pointed at Nalan, who was as shocked as anyone at the table, “...if he wasn't so screwed up in the head, penis-wise.”
“But you won't fuck Faerathore.”
“That's right,” she said. “I won't.”
“How does that make any goddamn sense?” Tolem thundered, bordering on exasperation.
“It’s my choice,” Zella said. Her throat was closing up. She feared she might choke. “Otherwise, why did I bother breaking out of The Tower in the first place?”
Tolem glared at her. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and slow. “You know, there’s something I've been trying to get into his head for weeks.” He pointed at Devan again. “I've seen a lot of thieves over the years who liked to say they had ethics. Principles. Codes of conduct. Codes of honor. You can see them, too. Right here in Kauleth. There's a huge pile of them right outside the back gate.
“You know how thieves survive long enough to enjoy the things they steal?” Tolem asked, almost in a whisper, as if imparting a great secret. “By taking the easy way. By lying. By cheating. By saying 'fuck my principles.’ By using every tool in the box. And if that means getting a tool in your box, little miss? That's what you fucking do. That's what grown-ups fucking do.”
Breigh growled deep in her throat and began to stand up. Devan put a hand on her knee. She sat.
Zella of the Peak said nothing. She was scared to open her mouth because she knew her voice would crack, or her breath would betray her and come out wet and wounded. She bit her tongue as hard as she could. She was not going to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she just shook her head and stared at him. And he stared right back.
Devan leaned in and put his face inches away from Tolem's. “Are you done?” And deep inside, Zella thanked the gods for that.
“I don't know.” Tolem squinted at the boy. “Am I?”
“If Z says she's got this,” Devan said slowly, making sure he wasn't misunderstood in any way, shape, or form, “then she's got this. She's a pro. And I trust her completely.”
Tolem covered his mouth with one hand. “Oh shit,” he said. “That's what this is. This is about you two. Isn't it.”
Zella said nothing. Devan said nothing. The others said nothing.
“So, what? Somewhere in your little free-love fuck fest, someone's emotions got twisted up?” He snapped his fingers and looked at Zella. “I bet it had something to do with him dicking the Lieutenant's redheaded vagina demon. Am I right?”
“Shut up,” Devan growled.
“So because she's pissed at you, she's going to fuck over the entire job and let us all swing when she can't make meaningful small talk with Faerathore. All because of true love.” The words dripped off the end of his tongue like honeyed poison. “Or whatever you call...” H
e motioned back and forth between Devan and Zella. “...this.”
Zella could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Tolem shook his head.
“You know, I've been looking forward to this job for ten goddamn years. And now?” Tolem scooted his chair back from the table. “I don't even care. I don't. Because this isn't happening. This is over.”
“Fine,” Devan said firmly. “You want out? Get out. It would be nice to have someone distracting the guard, but we'll make do without you.”
Tolem laughed in Devan's face. “There's room on the pile for five more, kids—”
“Call us kids one more time.” The menace in Devan's voice was palpable. “Go on,” he insisted.
Zella glanced around the table. Nalan was scared to death. Allister looked pissed, but he was cowed. Breigh wanted blood. Devan wanted an excuse to use the cane he was gripping so tight in his fist.
Tolem nodded slowly. “All right,” he said at last, leaning in toward Devan. “All right, fine. But here's what you need to know. I'll do my part. I'll distract the guards for you. But the first sign of trouble. The first sign that she's fucked us—which she will, ironic as that is—and I'm gone. Like I was never there.”
“That's going to have to do,” Devan said. He backed away from Tolem. Tolem sat back in his seat again.
Devan did the same. He looked over at Zella. Zella looked back at him with grateful eyes. She hoped against hope that he couldn’t see how badly she was shaking. “All right,” Devan said quietly. “We've still got work to do. So let's do it.”
The group split up and went their separate ways. All except Zella, who stayed in her seat, staring down at the table. She barely realized Devan had made his way over and sat down next to her until he took her hand in his and squeezed it.
“I'm going to kill that son of a bitch,” Zella whispered, her voice wet and wounded. “Swear to the gods.”
“You're not going to get the chance,” Devan said. “He'll kill us first. The second he thinks his back's against the wall, he'll roll us, and the guards will be all over us.”
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