Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (42 page)

“No.” Themun’s mock sternness put Silbane in his place. “Go find your parents.”

It was clear the man was not going to answer is question with anything more than a simple ‘no’, so Silbane nodded, a gesture that included his whole body in a miniature bow, and ran off.

Themun shrugged, mentally correcting Silbane’s guess as the boy scampered off. It was closer to one in a thousand.

Part II

T
HE
N
EXT
M
ISSION

When you are comfortable, you are vulnerable.

Maintain discipline, master your weakness.

With repetition, discomfort will feel safe,

And you will begin to see weakness in others.

—Tir Combat Academy, Basic Forms & Stances

P
rime and Two returned to the cabin, but neither looked happy. They moved over to where Three stood quietly conferring with Four. The group spoke softly in turns, each nodding as their leader explained something. Then the four turned and made their way back to where Kisan stood with Five.

"That last adept was stalking us." Prime said this as a statement of fact. "When we saw him, he was making his way toward you two."

Three then added, "He certainly seemed to know we were there. Once the rest of us detected him, he dropped his visual cloak."

"Conserving energy for battle," Prime replied softly. He seemed deep in thought. Then he looked at the group and asked, "If he knew, then the others might have also. Give me scenarios."

They went in order and based on Tamlin’s memory, Kisan knew this exercise had a very strict protocol. The newest member spoke first, then each spoke in turn by rank. This way the more experienced members received the benefit of the other’s observations. Kisan knew she only had a heartbeat to answer. "He followed us, but meant to attack earlier. When he became visible, it was six against one. Not good planning for as good a fighter as he was."

"Separated us with a decoy," said Five. "Thought we chased a boy."

"He was following us. He could have been out, seen what happened, and waited for the perfect moment, but that never came, huh?" Four added with a laugh.

Three said, "Something warned him. Maybe the area was protected by countermeasures we’re not familiar with."

Two thought for a moment, his mind moving through the various scenarios. He then said, "I agree with Four. He was already out, heard something. We would have heard him, if our positions were reversed."

Kisan seriously doubted this last statement, given their abilities, but remained silent. Now was not the time for her to come to anyone’s attention.

Prime bowed his head, assimilating everything he’d heard. "Three, you think something warned him? What?"

Three stepped up. "We don’t know their complete capabilities. Maybe the woman managed to send out a warning. Those damn halfling kids were squealers."

Kisan closed her eyes, keeping her emotions in check.

Prime nodded, then looked at Five and asked, "You said decoy...?"

Five stepped forward, saying, "Just before he showed up a young boy ran past us, heading for the woods. We each fired a dart, but the boy kept running. We followed standard procedure."

Standard procedure meant Six would hold position while Five took the target. Prime looked at Six and asked, "How long was Five gone?"

"No more than twenty beats," Kisan answered. She realized now, with great relief, that they could not mindspeak. Had that been part of their repertoire, this sort of mission debriefing would never occur. They would simply have shared thoughts and seen what each other saw, but her identity would immediately have been uncovered.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she realized that everyone was staring at her. No one moved, but it was clear something she had just said caused this.

Then Two snarled, "What the hell is a
beat?"

Kisan’s mind scrambled. She didn’t know what that word meant, and how could they not know the rhythm of their own hearts? She dove into Tamlin’s memories and realized that timekeeping for these dwarves was much more sophisticated, more precise. She searched, then dredged up the correct unit of measure, sounding out the word, "I meant,
sekunds
…," she finished lamely.

It sounded strange to her, but it was roughly equivalent to a heartbeat, so she hoped Prime would accept it.

It seemed to work. With the exception of Two, the rest had gone back to looking at their leader. Two continued to stare at her though, shaking his head in disgust.

Prime looked at the group, silent and thoughtful. After a moment, he offered, "The boy was likely a student. However, the profile of these adepts shows they would not use students as bait. The boy you saw probably spooked and ran. The adept unshielded himself in an effort to misdirect us from him, not knowing that Five had already taken the boy... Where are my holes?"

The group stood silent. Then Five hesitantly said, "We never found the boy. He made it to the edge of the woods and disappeared."

Prime looked at the two of them with disgust. "You
both
missed?" Behind him, Two, who was in charge of their continued training, shifted his weight, an unspoken promise of endless drills after this debriefing concluded. Five and Six were officially on his list.

"Or he is dead," Three offered, "hit by one or both darts just as he made it to the wood’s edge. Five wouldn’t have been able to find him in that undergrowth. The signal to regroup came just as the boy raced past them."

"I have our orders," Prime told the group, thankfully choosing to focus on the next phase of their mission. "We are to proceed to the port of Haven where we will drop the boat off with Arsenal, then make our way to the fortress of Bara’cor."

"Target?" Three asked.

"Our secondary target is the entire Galadine line. The king has gone soft on those that use the Way, and is a target of opportunity."

"The royal family?" Four shook his head. "Heavy prep. Lots of variables."

"That’s what we live for," Prime semi-chastised, then said, "Our primary is more complicated. Two."

At his command, Two stepped forward and outlined the facts. "The Isle was sanctioned because of two events. One, the dragon, Rai’stahn and a master left shortly before our attack; and two, they both disappeared, as if their connection to the Way had been cut off."

Prime looked at his team and said, "Another null has appeared."

Silence reigned as each team member instantly understood what Prime was saying. Only Kisan felt left out, but waited so she could put more context to what she’d just heard.

"We’ve never faced a null before." This was from Five, doubt clear in his voice.

Two reacted immediately and said, "Stow that! Every team has their first and this is ours. They can't do magic, and plain steel is all you need."

The others nodded, then Four stepped forward. "Which master was it?"

"We don’t know, the null field hides him," Prime said, "but given the body count at the Isle, we can assume it’s either Silbane Petracles or Kisan Talaris. Calling them dangerous is an understatement, so stay sharp. If either or both are protecting this null, we have a lethal situation on our hands, and I’d like to see everyone come back alive."

Kisan didn’t have to ask what a "null" was. The answer was obvious. It could only be Arek, with his unique ability to mask the Way.

"The queen is in Haven, and outside of mission parameters. She’s not a target, yet." Prime grabbed a sheaf of papers with detailed drawings of people and handed them out. Kisan had never seen anything like this before, the drawings were so real, they looked almost lifelike. She stared at them, mesmerized by the detail. In addition to images, the papers contained habits, training, and other vital information on each target. "Memorize these, then destroy them."

"What are our orders?" Kisan asked, leafing through the papers until she came to her own sheet. It was extraordinary. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. How had they gathered such information about them and their Isle, supposedly a guarded secret? The question begged for hints of betrayal, but she could not think of an obvious answer. If not that, then this Sovereign was better equipped and informed than they suspected.

"Intelligence from Arsenal reports a new prisoner in Bara’cor, a boy named Arek. We carry out our secondary objective and then seek out the prisoner. If he’s the null, no misses," said Two, locking eyes first with Five and Six, then the rest of the team. "We kill him."

"And if he’s not?" asked Kisan.

Two smiled, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. "They are getting lax at the Core, decanting anyone with a pulse. The answer is always the same, mudknife, every time." He looked at Three.

Three laughed and said, "We
always
kill them."

A C
HANGE IN
P
LANS

Bladesmen create their own openings,

But until you achieve such exalted heights,

Always remain humble.

But if an opening presents itself, strike.

—Davyd Dreys, Notes to my Sons

H
is name is Arek Winterthorn. It was the name given to him when he was found by a group of monks. They reside on an island southeast of here, somewhere in the Shattered Sea." Jebida read from the report, but shook his head. "My king, you’re not going to believe half of what’s in here. Mages, dragons, ghosts; something about a rift within Bara’cor, which out of this entire report is the most alarming. It reads like our own myths and legends, only according to this boy it’s true, and he’s in the middle of it."

The king asked for the report, looking it over. With him and Jebida were the armsmark, his son Niall, and Yetteje. Although they had mostly recovered from their encounter, Sergeant Stemmer still had headaches from the blow she’d received and was under the careful eye of the healers. The rest, except for their wounded pride, were not too badly hurt.

"It says he arrived here by a Far’anthi Stone," remarked the king.

"Yes, whatever that is," muttered the firstmark.

"They were stones used to travel between these fortresses," said the king almost to himself, "made by the dwarves." His thoughts turned to the stone statues and spheres in the main council chamber, where the boy had emerged. He knew similar statues stood all over the fortress of Bara’cor, and a sudden dread filled him at their vulnerability.

"Place guards at every stone sphere statue within Bara’cor and inside and outside the main council chamber. Station them in pairs within sight of one another. Rotate them at regular intervals. If the boy is telling the truth, those stones may offer a hundred ways into this fortress," said the king.

Jebida laughed. "And you believe him? This is no boy, however innocent he may look. He could have killed Sergeant Stemmer, Princess Tir, or even your son. He faced my armsmark in
single
combat and held his own. He weaves a storybook tale under physical interrogation. He has clearly been conditioned and definitely has special military training. It’s worth repeating... he could have
killed
your son," the firstmark said gruffly, looking at the king.

"He could have, but he didn’t kill anyone," Ash said. "Maybe he’s sticking to his story because it’s true. Did you see him? He didn’t look ‘conditioned’ after our man finished with him."

"What do you mean?" Niall asked in a small voice. "What did we do?"

The firstmark looked at the young prince and said, "We’re at war. He somehow evaded all our guards, entered here and attempted to kill you..." Jebida looked exasperated. "We did what we had to do."

Yetteje looked at Niall and said, "They tortured him." From the look on her face, it was clear the idea didn’t bother her in the least.

Niall turned back to the king, shaking his head. "Father?"

The king ignored his son and looked to the firstmark, saying, "Carry out my orders. Station the guards." Bernal looked down, contemplating, then asked, "How is the prisoner?"

The commander of Bara’cor’s defenses shrugged and replied, "He’ll not walk normally again. There’s not much left of his foot." He paused, then added, "Our man was thorough." He seemed to understand the necessity of the king’s actions, but with the exception of Yetteje, the torture didn’t sit well with anyone else in the room.

The king nodded, his disciplined mind neither reviewing nor regretting the actions this boy’s appearance required of him. His only concern was the safety of Bara’cor, and the possibility there was a way into the fortress they didn’t know about. It was something his son would have to grow to understand: the weight of everyone’s safety over one person’s life or comfort.

"Does your man think he was telling the truth?" asked the king.

The firstmark and armsmark looked at each other, their long service together a common bond, allowing the unspoken disagreement to hang in the air between them without detracting from their duties. Then with a sigh, Jebida turned to the king and said, "Aye, my lord. I think he believes what’s in the report."