Christel’s session with the baroness eventually ended, and he was sent back to his cell with the promise that he would tell more of the story at a later date. The young thief found all this very peculiar. The old baron had resorted to torture instantly, and the only words that ever came out of his disgusting mouth were “where is Merida’s Key!” And yet, the new baroness barely mentioned the key, and she didn’t lay a hand on Christel.
Naturally Christel was disinclined to object to her methods. Although he would eventually be forced at the hands of her truth serum to reveal the location of the key, he at least had some time to contemplate the effect of his new captor. Was escape now possible? Would it even be worth the attempt? If he got out he would be able to see his wife again, and his child. It would be worth the effort.
When he was called back to speak to the baroness he was famished. On the break of dawn Lamara unlocked his cell and sent him to be bathed, and then he was seated again in the grand hall with only the baroness and her guards. “And here we are again,” Christel mused, somewhat delighted to be fed again. The baroness smiled, but did not speak, and as the young thief stuffed a piece of bread and honey into his mouth he chuckled. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me your questions? I have remembered a great deal since last we talked.”
The baroness inclined her head. “Are you mocking me, Mr. Saan? I will not have that attitude at my table.”
Christel shrugged. “Forgive me, my lady. I believe I have fallen to your ‘merciful’ charm. With no obvious means to escape I’ve decided not to hinder your interrogation, at least, until I can recall where I appear to have hidden Merida’s key.”
“At which point all I have to do is ask for its location,” the baroness mentioned.
“Quite right, although I do have some questions of my own that I’d like answered.”
“Such as?”
“What’s your play?” He leaned back and crossed his arms.
The baroness’ lips curled into a smile. “Christel, we’ve been over this before. No doubt you are weary of my intentions, but quite frankly I don’t care. I am kind to you because I am a woman of grace, and I choose to be kind to you. Know only that I seek the truth…”
And so Christel was perused with more questions, and he began mostly by talking about Devin Shephard – his old friend and business partner – as well as the King’s intentions for the inevitable civil war that was about to occur.
Devin Shephard was a slim man, small in stature with a narrow face. He fiddled meticulously, almost nervously, with a hair tie, before slipping it over his head to keep his wavy locks out of his eyes. He had spent the past hour stooped over the desk in his office.
“Now you are beautiful,” he whispered to a fiery red gem that had been delivered to him the day before. “You are not Benezia and yet you are similar in nature…” He placed the mysterious stone on a scale he had designed for testing the density of benezian crystals. The needle – which indicated a scale from one to ten – pointed to ten. “And you are just bursting with energy!”
Devin had deduced the previous night that the stone possessed some kind of elemental property. It was close enough to midnight and he was making himself a coffee when by chance he had placed the stone down beside a candle. To his surprise the tiny flame more than tripled in size, and it began to lick angrily at the air. Devin removed the stone and the flames once again died away.
He immediately left his office and settled in the headquarters he had arranged for locating and apprehending anomalies throughout the City of Taelliwey. The room was small and muggy. Ashley Wilson, and close friend and associate of his, was there. Over the past few months they had collected every report of unnatural occurrences within the city and marked it down. For those whose identities were known, Devin sent his agents – Arlandra Knight included – to find them. Of the thirty names and faces that were pinned to the wall, seven had already been crossed off. Devin selected one name in particular – Jake Barroway – and delivered the flyer to Arlandra.
Back in his office on the present day, Devin continued to conduct all kinds of tests on this strange piece of rock, until he heard a peculiar sound outside his office. It was a heavy thump followed by a painful groan, and a voice. “Don’t try anything,” it said.
The door to the office was softly kicked open and Arlandra Knight stepped inside behind a man with matted red hair and grey eyes. Arlandra appeared as though he were the man’s shadow – clad in black as he was – and he held the man firmly by the cuffs that bound his hands together. “Devin!” Arlandra called. “I have your delivery. One Jake Barroway.”
He pushed the captive forward and Jake stood grimly in the centre of the room. The was a strange radiance of energy about the man that was almost visible – confirming Devin’s suspicions about his powers. “Jake Barroway,” Devin said, removing his glasses. “You’ve been charged with three cases of arson in the past two weeks. What’s more, you set one of the king’s officers on fire.” Jake made no reply, nor did he make eye contact with Devin. “Despite all that I believe you are innocent, and if you cooperate with myself and the crown, I can grant you full amnesty of your crimes.”
At last Jake raised his eyes. “I’ve not many things left in this life. Lost my family long ago. Lost my home during the war. I’ve no friends to care if I live or die.” There was a noticeable timidness in Jake’s features. “I had hope, though,” Jake continued. “I thought, maybe I’d be content if I did something good for the world before I left it, but now it appears I’ve been cursed out of that one too!”
Devin held the flame coloured stone in his nimble hands and he approached Jake in the centre of the room. “Serve me,” he whispered, and he gestured for Jake to open his hand. Devin placed the stone in the hand – he wasn’t entirely sure why, or what to expect, but he felt it was the right thing to do. Whatever inclination he had, it was very correct.
The stone, when placed upon Jake Barroway’s open palm, exploded in an abundance of colour and flame. Arlandra was unsuspecting, and jumped back at the sudden ferocity of light that flooded the room, radiating from the stone. It appeared as an orange wisp, floating around them and leaving a trail of light wherever it went, transforming miraculously from orange to yellow and then to red.
The colourful wisps took form, dividing into five points. “A pentagram…” Devin murmured. “Five points. Five stones?”
But then Jake Barroway groaned painfully and the stone slipped from his hand. Like a flame being snuffed, the wisps vanished, and both Devin and Arlandra stood aghast in silence, until the assassin said, “What the hell was that?”
Devin shook his head and tried to bring himself back into reality. He sighed. “I have no idea, but I have a feeling – a bad feeling, mind you – that this little stone is terribly important.” He turned to Jake Barroway, who was doubled over in the centre of the room, and whose hands had been burnt by the stone. “You did well, Mr Barroway. Please, consider your amnesty granted, now if you would please wait outside, there will be someone to escort you to the royal barracks.”
Jack Barroway did not speak, but only offered a slight nod of the head, and then he seemed to crawl away towards the door. When he was gone, Arlandra Knight tried to shrug away the thought of the stone as he sat down on the other side of Devin’s desk. For him, the supernatural had become natural. He had seen things that he didn’t understand, witnessed things from worlds long since dead, and become something that the world did not recognize. He set his emerald-green eyes on Devin. “You deceived me,” he accused.
“What?” said Devin, as he collected the stone – which was hot – and placed it back on the desk.
“I was under the impression that the anomalies were a threat to the city. I understand the disruptive potential they have, but come on!”
Devin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. He was a scientist, and to him, everything was an observation of interest. “I thought you would have liked to get back into the world, on account of your training?”
“Devin, this isn’t training, this is babysitting. I know you know what I’m talking about. Even without my powers I’m the best resource you have, and you will not make me an errand boy! These anomalies in the streets might as well be children, not criminals.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you gave a four-year-old a knife you can’t really be surprised if someone gets cut.” Arlandra stood up. “These people have no idea what’s happening to them, but I know there is someone out there who does, someone dangerous. Remember, I am still an assassin. Give me a contract.”
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