Deni Perfide
Member
Professor Visuri
[7,564]
It didn’t matter how much time he spent there, sitting behind a desk still felt strange. The surface was littered with papers. Contracts, both open and completed, details of the soivus, new applications, bills. For years Deni had shirked responsibility, until responsibility had become necessary to achieve his goal. Fortunately, he was never one to shy away from doing what was necessary. Unfortunately, that meant dealing with this mess.
“Serpent’s saggy tits,” he groaned, scratching the cartilage spikes on his head. “I need an assistant.”
Tesirae crossed his mind and he found himself grinning, imagining that little woman in her dark clothes and scarf with those serious eyes, tidying up the desk. She looked so out of place. Perhaps she wouldn't mind, but Deni doubted it.
It was just a daydream of course. She and three of the other soivus were neck-deep in a much more important task. They had been taking turns observing Professor Visuri’s schedule for a few weeks now. Tes had even managed to sneak into one of her offices and read through some papers. Her notes were mixed in on the desk somewhere. Nothing incriminating, unfortunately, though Deni had expected no less from an academic of the Arcanum, especially one hailing from a minor noble family. Her cooperation was going to be costly. Deni just had to hope the coffers of the Societas could afford it.
It would be worth it. While it was a matter of interest to Professor Calovan, extraplanar travel was Visuri’s field of study. If anybody could find a way to get there, it would be her.
Deni sipped at his coffee and winced. The sunset cast a red-orange glow across his desk. His body longed for a different drink. It was about the hour, but he needed to focus. The temptation was there, but it wouldn’t do to muddle up his documents even more. With a sigh, he began to sort.
Immediately his mind began to wander. The four soivus were out investigating an address that was referenced in one of Visuri’s notebooks. It was likely nothing, but they didn’t have anything else that looked remotely like a lead. Despite his past history of being imprisoned in warehouses, he wished he could be where they were. Beneath the sunset, looking out for trouble or having it find you, like the old times with Iggy and Aeria. It feels like I’m just a bureaucrat now. His family might have been proud. Or not. The Societas danced on the line of legality, after all.
A symbol on one of the papers caught his eye. Simple, just a few jagged and curved lines. It reminded Deni of a gun trigger, but it also sort of looked like an eye. It was one of Tes’ notes. He’d glazed over it earlier but now that he really looked, it prickled the back of his mind.
“Where’ve I seen that before?”
It was linked to a name, he was sure of it. Not something recent, but something he had seen somewhere before. He rubbed at his temple with one hand.
“Eurgh. Abrillus? No. Agrecti? Hm.”
He sipped at his coffee. Then spat it against the wall. A wave began to roil in his gut.
“Oh, faex!”
The mug hit the floor as he leapt over the desk, sending papers whipping all around. It looked like he would get his wish after all.
Tes wrapped her black jacket close as she watched from her vantage point. Scaling the building across the street had been simple. The target, however, was puzzling. A small bakery at the back of the street. The building behind was bigger, so it was easy to miss, tucked in at the end of the street. Tes had turned up with enough sunlight to watch some pleasant regulars chat with one of the bakers, a middle-aged laicar man, white apron tied around his round belly. When there’d been a little more light, she’d seen a young woman in the window put her apron down and leave for the day.
It could be a front. Or it could just be a bakery. The strange symbol and the address might have been unrelated. Professor Visuri was a plump woman, maybe she ordered frequently from this bakery. Tes sighed. She could be staying all night. She didn’t want to, but she was patient enough and could operate on little sleep. The others wouldn’t stay that long. Idro would leave after a few smoke breaks then tell the Boss he stayed all night. Larsi was probably already gone, spooked by a loud noise or a bird flying overhead. Bahl was probably in the bakery, consuming the end of day stock. No. He wasn’t that unprofessional. Sometimes it felt like Tes was the only one who took her job seriously though.
She squinted at a couple of shapes walking down the street. She recognised that long-legged walk. Larsi. Accompanied by two shadowy figures. Tes reached for her blades. One pressed uncomfortably against her neck.
“Wouldn’t recommend that,” a gravelly voice grated into her ear. “Think you’re comin’ with me, ‘less y’want to paint a pretty picture on this roof with y’blood.”
Tes ground her teeth together. She could always sense danger coming. How had she failed this time? There hadn’t been a footstep. Not a sound. Must be professionals. It was an effort, but she relaxed her hands and let herself be led down to the ground. By the time they got there, the others were all gathered inside the bakery, with five or so dark-clothed rough-looking folk. The bell above the door pinged as Tes and her captor entered.
“This is going well,” Idro said. A meaty fist knocked the smirk off his face and left a bloody frown in its place.
“Down.”
The four of them were coaxed down to the cellar through a hatch behind the counter. Judging by the amount of steps, it must have led under the large building behind. Tes couldn’t hear anything, except for the tap tap of them all walking down and the blood rushing in her ears. Larsi was quivering. She should have left the Societas when she had intended.
The room was lit only by a few lanterns. There were sacks along the walls and stacked crates, metal wire racks haphazardly shoved in the back corners. There was a lot more space than Tes was expecting, but it did still look like a bakery storage room. Except for the menacing figures lurking about. At a first glance it looked like there were six, maybe seven if there was movement behind one of the wire racks. A laicar woman lounged against a table in the centre. Short, spiky hair, scar down her nose, an arm that appeared metal from the elbow down. A loose tanktop and tight, flexible trousers. She looked like a brawler, someone who wanted to fight up close and personal.
“The money,” the woman said. Her accent didn’t sound familiar.
“What?” Larsi gasped before anybody else could reply. Spiky-Hair narrowed her eyes. The other strangers shifted their stances. They looked eager. Ready. Danger.
“The Professor did send you, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Tes replied, without much thinking.
“Then where is the money?”
Quick, quick. I have to think of something!
“We don’t have it,” Bahl said, as carefree as if he was discussing the weather.
“She didn’t send us to pick up the money.” They were outnumbered and each sentence riled up these armed thugs. She needed to deflect blame, hope that it was enough to redirect their anger. “She sent us to kill you, to take the merchandise back to her.”
Spiky raised her metal arm and the others halted their advance. Tes was sweating. How could Bahl sound so calm? She hoped that was what her voice had sounded like. The leader stared among them for a moment as if weighing, measuring, thickening the tense, hot air.
“Very honest of you,” she said. “If you are being honest. How do you expect to benefit from telling me your intentions?”
Idro shrugged. “The Lady pays well. Not enough to die over.”
Spiky sighed. Took her time. Flexed her metal arm while she rolled her eyes this way and that, let them revel in their fear. Danger. That hulking demvir was still behind them, waiting. Tes knew what would be decided. Larsi gulped. The others knew too.
A flick of that metal wrist and Infernalis burst upon the room. Tes ducked and a billowing cloud burst from somewhere. Gunshots, shouting, growling, screaming, a mad symphony exploded from everywhere. She couldn’t see anything so she clung to the floor, creeping towards where she remembered the wall was. Footsteps cut through the noise, getting distant. Then a set of loud stomps, like cracking knuckles. Tes made her decision. She held one hand to the wall, short blade in the other, until she found the passageway. A bullet ricocheted off a surface in front of her and some loud snarl whipped past her head. She took a breath. Then the stairs, two at a time.
The fog cleared and she was greeted back into the bakery with a shattering sound. Larsi was on the ground, dragging herself backwards across the broken glass, blood dripping from multiple cuts on her face. The big demvir strained to pursue her, strapped to the window frame by a spectral chain. Tes lunged from the side. Her blade pierced through the metal body, forced a crackling groan. Step back. Metal jaw shivered as her target turned its sights on her. By the Vis, he’s big. She dodged a long metal arm and ducked in, stabbing with as much force as she could manage. Ripped the blade free. Dashed around him. Stabbed again.
The blade wouldn’t move. It must have gotten caught on something, part of his metal frame. Suddenly the world was ripped from its axis and she was on the floor. Black flecks danced over her eyes. There was shouting. It sounded like someone familiar.
Tes was hauled into the air. Her stomach dropped with the sensation. That big crooked face readjusted her to the situation. Those cold, metal bars it used as fingers cut into her throat, pressing, pushing the air out of her. There was still shouting but it was drowned out, like it was coming from another room. The ringing and the pressure reduced it to silence. She clawed desperately, swung her body, kicked him in the face with all she had. Nothing. Twisted, wriggled, tried moving every which way. She might as well have had her throat in a vice. The strength was leaving her now. Not again. Fading, fading. Please. Not again.
Thud. The ground. Broken glass cut her a dozen different ways, but it also brought relief. Release. The air rushed into her mouth with the taste of iron. Too much. She coughed it all up and then sucked it all in again. Her eyes followed the shadow over her. The demvir still loomed, a few strides back, twisting his ugly head as if it was following a fly. Tes took the opportunity and darted away, landing next to Larsi.
“Was that you?” Her hoarse voice managed. The laicar woman looked just as shocked as ever. She shook her head.
“What was it?”
“A bullet, I think.”
They both glanced at the broken window.
“Are you sure?”
“No, I-”
The great mass of metal heaved, no longer bound by Larsi’s spell. Its face twisted. Red-black oozed from a hole in his midsection.
“I need your help,” Tes said, looking for which angle to attack from.
“I can’t.”
“You can.” There wasn’t time for this. Gunfire and cries still echoed from downstairs. Bahl and Idro wouldn’t hold out for long. If they were both still alive. But Tes was no talker, not like the Boss.
The Boss. He’d said something about Larsi and Idro. Larsi’s only here because she’s madly in love with Idro.
“Idro needs you.”
Larsi spun to face Tes. “I…don’t want to go back down there.”
“You don’t have to,” Tes said. “I’ll go, but I can’t if I’m facing this big bastard. If you can hold him in place, together we can save Idro. And Bahl.”
She wiped her eyes on her ripped sleeve and nodded. The demvir finally turned to face them, stomping implacably at his own pace. Clearly he thought neither were a threat, just two bloodied thugs in too much hot water.
“I need some time,” Larsi said quietly.
“I’m not sure how much I can give,” Tes said. She pulled her second short blade out of its sheath. Eyes focused, breath becoming steady again. Her throat burned something fierce. Drown it out. The dozens of cuts from the glass stung. Drown them out. She was ready.
Tes lunged forward, aiming low. The demvir brought one big arm down to block but she spun on her foot, feinted, pressed a light jab at his thigh. Not even half of the blade. It wasn’t worth the risk. She stepped back. Not far enough. The metal mockery of a hand caught her face in a back swing and she found herself spinning. She jumped so she wouldn’t stumble and landed on her feet, blade ahead. Good. Those beady eye-lights were pointed right at her. She wanted some time to breathe, but Larsi needed it more. So she stepped around him, stabbed again. Easily deflected. She threw a feint attack, but he caught her arm in his iron grip.
“You’re getting slow,” he grated, like bolts grinding together. That big square jaw crashed into her nose and she staggered backwards with a yelp. Her stomach shifted but she didn’t fall. His grip held her firmly in place. Watery eyes couldn’t see a thing. Something wet dripped down her mouth. With a cry she brought up her free arm. A rod sprang out either side of her bracer and settled with a click. A crossbow. She fired a bolt at the darkness she took for his shape. The disgusting creak that followed confirmed she’d hit her target. She’d hoped that it would have loosened his grip. It didn’t. But it did make him angry.
A great force punched straight through her midsection. Tes keeled over as all the air left her. For a moment she thought she might be sick. Once she opened her scrunched up eyes, she saw the blurry image of his great fist hovering over her. Death, come for her. After all these years. Only this time, she didn’t want to embrace it. She wasn’t ready.
A thin whistle whizzed past her ear as that dreadful weaponized arm came down. It crashed next to her. He lurched off-balance. Lost his grip. Tes found herself free once again. The blood, saliva, bile, Vis knew what else, fell from her lips so she could replace them with air again. The enemy regained footing quickly. Too quickly. Tes didn’t think she had it in her to dodge another attack.
Metal jaw went slack as the entire bulk of the demvir’s body hit the ground. The corner of Tes’ eye caught a faint glimmer of something. Some light particles, dancing around Larsi’s fingers. The woman was standing up now, face and clothes riddled with cuts.
“I can hold him for now,” she said. “If you can help the others.”
Truthfully, Tes wasn’t sure how much help she’d be at this point. Gasping for air, head spinning, ears ringing, feeling nauseous, a veritable multitude of pain across her body, stinging, aching, throbbing. She knew the best course of action was to run. Bahl and Idro would die down there and Larsi would be left alone against that metal behemoth. It would fulfil her first priority, as the Boss had put it. Self-preservation. It hadn’t been long since she’d chosen him and the Societas as her second, though. It didn’t feel right, quitting so soon.
So she crouched low, reloaded her arm-mounted crossbow and crept back down the stairs, back to the sound of violence.
The mist was only just clearing. There were barriers dotted about, likely conjured. Idro was leaning against one, webbed hand holding his abdomen, bullets flying past him or ricocheting off the barrier. Someone at the far end was chanting something, though the words were lost to the madness. As soon as the air shimmered around the shrouded figure, Tes fired her bolt. There was a shrill yelp and lightning struck indiscriminately around the room. Tes dove for cover beneath Idro’s barrier.
“No electricity! Stulti!”
She poked her head up in the direction of the voice. The wide visage of Bahl was tangled with Spiky-Hair. His greataxe was on the floor, a body with a gaping chest wound seeping blood a few feet away.
“The big one?” Idro asked.
“Larsi’s got him pinned down, but it won’t last forever. We need to finish up here.”
It looked strange seeing the velen smile bloody. Maybe the Boss was right and he really did love the work.
“If it finishes anytime soon we’ll be the ones in the ground. They’re skilled fighters and there’s more of them than us.”
“Die, you neckless bastard!” Tes hunched her shoulders at the woman’s harsh voice. She knew now that her instincts had been right all along. The only way was to run. She could maybe get Idro out if they were lucky and he could still move well enough, but Bahl and their leader were gripping each other tightly in their fatal dance. Unless they could be separated, there was no way they could all escape.
A shadow appeared over her.
“Shit!” Idro growled. Tes booted the barrier and pushed herself away. There was a loud clang as the big blade hit the barrier. Tes coughed as she landed. Then she realised how exhausted she was. The blade scraped, making a shrill grinding noise as it arced towards Idro. The velen brought up his own just in time to parry clumsily, but he was still knocked backwards. His attacker came on fast and they were set into a dance of their own. Idro caught their leg, they caught his shoulder and on they went slashing and stabbing at each other, while Tes breathed in the tight, salty air as if it was a scented candle. After a few moments respite she managed to bring herself to a crouch, stalking low behind the barrier while the enemy was preoccupied with Idro. Waiting for a lunge, a step the wrong way, a twist of the body, anything that she could use. She was good at waiting.
They stepped forward to attack Idro. Now. Tes lunged in, plunged her narrow blade into their hamstring. A surprised shriek and Idro drove his blade into the enemy’s neck. A spray of blood stained his lilac scales and he grinned past the corpse.
“Always knew you were good for some-”
The bullet ripped into Idro’s head and his body fell to the side. Tes’ eyes grew wide as two corpses crumpled next to her. Shit! Just her and Bahl left with Vis knew how many of them. She wouldn’t be able to extract Bahl from the melee, not alone. She crouched close to the barrier as another bullet flew overhead. Can’t call on Larsi, she needs to keep the big one in check. No ideas. What can I do?
“Where’s Portcullis?” A voice shouted. “Cullis! Get down here, we need you!”
At least that was a problem that was being dealt with. For now. Tes would have a few more moments to think, to come up with a plan. Something.
Footsteps down the stairs behind. Metal scraping. A pit of dread opened up in her chest. No. Larsi had failed. What had happened to her? It didn’t require a great imagination to draw a conclusion. So there would be no help. Tes wondered if it would have been better for her to have died to the bullet through her neck during the A.N.O revolt. Probably. At least they would have likely buried or cremated her body. Dying in this bakery basement, who knew where her body would end up? Then again, she’d be dead either way. So why did it matter?
The inevitable clang came as the big demvir, Portcullis, made his way out of the stairwell. Or at least part of him did. The face was unmistakable from the square jaw alone, as it bounced a few more times, splattering black-red until it came to a stop near the centre of the room.
“Is that Portcullis’ head?”
“Cullis is dead?”
“That’s not possible!”
A cacophony of uncertain voices. Then one that was decidedly certain.
“It’s quite surprising how such a big frame could be held together by such narrow tubes.”
Relief washed over Tes at that melodic tone. The Boss strolled in like he was a health inspector in a bakery that wasn’t in fact a warzone. He wore his iconic black fedora and sleeveless trenchcoat, both pistols at his waist, sniper rifle on his back. Behind him, Larsi was visible. Just about. Clearly she felt safer if he was more likely to get a bullet than she was. The Boss held his hands up defensively as the chaos turned his way.
“As far as misunderstandings go, this one is a big one. I’m sure you’re all reasonable people-”
A figure popped up at the far end of the room. Tes thought it was the same one that had summoned the lightning. Her bolt didn’t kill them, then. The air shimmered in front of them. They were preparing another bellator spell. She opened her mouth to shout a warning.
The bang reached her ears at the same time the bullet ripped through the spellcaster’s forehead, body resting against one of the metal bread racks.
“...I wasn’t finished talking.”
Deni’s blue eyes never broke focus. They were fixed on the leader, who was grappling with a bloody-faced Bahl. He didn’t even look in that direction, yet he shot the spellcaster straight through the head. How? Nobody was that good. By Larsi’s wide eyes, she was as shocked as Tes.
Somebody poked their hand over a barrier, fired a few shots blindly. Larsi held her head and crouched. Deni aimed forward, auritium pistol with the gilded serpent’s head around the barrel, then slightly towards the ceiling. Bang. There was a cry. No more jingling of bullets for reloading from behind that barrier. Spiky-Hair was enraged, growling as she struggled against Bahl’s wide body.
Bang. An iron rack at the back toppled over as a body fell against it. Blood began to seep down the metal. The leader finally freed herself from Bahl and managed to wriggle herself behind him. She produced a knife from somewhere and held it against his throat, using him as a shield.
“You let me go,” she growled, “or we see how much you value your people.”
The Boss didn’t look phased, but he lowered the smoking gun and held his free hand up, criss-crossed scars on his palm showing.
“Alright,” he said. “You’re right. I do value my people and I’m not unreasonable.”
The air between their voices felt enormous after the noise of fighting, like they were talking inside a great hall rather than a dingy basement. The tension was no less crushing, however. Tes’ heart continued to race.
“Good.” Spiky-Hair moved slowly around with Bahl as a hostage, panting beneath her blade. Larsi followed in Deni’s shadow as they crept away from the stairwell, one step at a time.
“It’ll be alright, Bahl,” Deni promised. “You’re like a… lost child to me.”
Bahl’s swollen eyes quivered at the phrase. It all happened at once. Mid step, Bahl’s foot stomped on the metal-armed woman’s boot.
“Fu-”
Bang. The bullet ricocheted off the wall and straight through the side of her head. Her body collapsed under Bahl’s weight and they both hit the ground, knife clanging on the stone.
It was like the Vis had taken the air and suddenly let it flow back into the room again. The tension of combat dissipated.
“Idro!” Larsi cried, dropping down to the velen’s side.
“Bahl?” The Boss asked. The man’s big belly moved up and down with his noisy breathing. Blood seeped from his neck and through his fat fingers.
“Just a shaving nick, Boss.”
Tes turned at the sound of Larsi’s sniffling. She ached from the fight with the big demvir, legs burned for a rest. Even so, she forced herself to move towards them.
“He got shot in the head,” Tes said. Then she noticed the strange marks on the back of the laicar woman’s neck. They were new. And familiar…
“Aquila’s arse,” the Boss cursed. “Ami!”
A little wooden figure, maybe a foot or so tall, appeared from somewhere. It looked like a tiny tree, with a few leaves and branches sticking out. It moved to Idro, placed a branch on his head. A tiny white glow appeared for a few moments then disappeared. He began coughing. Tes stared. When the purple velen turned his head, she noticed Larsi quickly pull her hand away from his. Then she saw the bullet wound, a little trickle of blood down his forehead.
“Lucky bastard,” The Boss laughed. “A glancing shot.”
“Fuck,” Idro said, looking bewildered. The little tree sprite wandered over to Bahl and began to heal his neck.
“I do love a happy ending,” Deni said with a sigh, lighting up a cigarette.
“Who the fuck were they?” Idro asked.
Deni leaned against the wall, tilting his hat forward as he took a long drag on his cigarette while Amicus healed the others.
“The Abiectus cartel out of Aridus. Weapons dealers, if I’m not mistaken.”
Larsi turned to face the Boss, her face no longer so timid, but still riddled with its own multitude of cuts. They looked odd on someone usually well-presented. “What is the Aridan cartel doing here in Terminus?”
“Aridans?” Bahl grumbled. “Thought they were called Aridusians.”
“Doesn’t matter what they’re called,” Deni said. “Larsi’s on the right lines. What are they doing here? Not necessarily in Terminus, but meeting a renowned Professor of the Arcanum.”
The Boss looked among them, from the bloodied and swollen Bahl, to Larsi’s torn clothes and dozens of cuts. Then to Idro and his narrow escape from a bullet to the brain. Tes didn’t feel any better than the others looked, even when those blue eyes stared right at her. She must have looked just as much of a mess after that bloody brawl.
“Why didn’t you know about them, Boss?” Idro said with unmistakable venom. Tes winced. Deni stared at Idro for a few seconds. Then looked regretful.
“I’m sorry, to all of you. Even if I don’t seem it, I am.” He puffed out a ring of smoke. “I may be good at what I do - some would even say great - but I am not all-seeing. I’ve never dealt with the Abiectus before. I only know the logo from some light reading a while back.”
“You can read?”
The Boss groaned, though the corner of his mouth curved around the cigarette.
“You push your luck too much, Idro. One day it might run out. I know all of you are spent and my little friend here can only take the edge off, but I just have one final job for you to do tonight.”
They all stared at him, as blank as fresh paper. A job? In their condition? Was he mad? Surely he could see the state of them. The only thing they were good for was a long bath and an even longer sleep.
“Then I’ll be increasing your paychecks. All four of you.”
Idro leaned up as if his close call was of no consequence. Bahl somehow managed to strain past his belly enough to sit upright. Without assistance. Larsi returned right back to looking astonished. Tes thought if she kept that same expression, her eyes would stay that wide for the rest of her life.
“Payrise?”
“I think you’ve all more than earned it after today. Lesser soivus wouldn’t have lasted an eighth as long as you all did. And as a personal apology for misreading the situation-”
“Grossly.”
“-I’ll be making sure you all get the rest you need.”
Tes didn’t feel very fairly compensated, all things considered. Neither did the others judging by the looks on their faces. At least the pay increase was nice.
“That means taking advantage of the Hospitium’s services. Personal assistants, alcohol, food, warm baths, relaxing music, the whole fathom.”
That changed the mood. Bahl had a joyous crooked smile on his swollen face. Idro actually threw his fist into the air. Larsi had the biggest smile Tes had ever seen on her. She was probably daydreaming about being pampered.
“What’s the job, Boss?” Bahl asked. The pale velen smiled from under his fedora.
“I have a wagon outside. Help me load the bodies. Then you can all rest easy.”
The round laicar was on his feet in an instant, blood drying on his fat chin as he easily hurled one body over his shoulders. Then another. It wouldn’t take them long. The healing of the mons infans did make Tes feel a little better, but she still ached and longed for her bed. Any bed. She wondered what it would be like to have a personal assistant, what it would be like to sit and relax. To take the time to bathe without a care in the world. Well, she would have to keep dreaming about that, given her status as a former terrorist, but it would be the closest she could get. It did make her feel like smiling. A little.
Once all the bodies were in the big metal wagon, The Boss urged the four soivus in close.
“There’s no overstating how well you all did tonight,” he said. “These were organised combatants, veterans of the criminal underworld. Dangerous, not just for show. You all proved your worth to the Societas.”
With a few hearty shoulder clasps and a hug for Larsi, Deni climbed onto the wagon, the little forest sprite on his shoulder. They might have done their duty, but Tes had more questions.
“Where are you taking the bodies?”
The Boss looked down, eyes narrowing into that inquisitive expression that spelled trouble.
“Why? Do you want to come along?”
“No.” She didn’t mean to say it that quickly. People sometimes didn’t take kindly to her abruptness, but her mind was truly made up. She needed her rest just like the others. Instead of being offended, Deni just laughed, then banged his fist on the wagon twice and began to roll into the distance.
Tes turned back and saw the others walking down the street. It was a long walk back to the Societas headquarters, but it looked like they were going anyway. Larsi motioned her over. That mark on her neck had gone. Tes was certain she hadn’t imagined it. It looked like the same pattern as the one on the Boss’ hand. Tes had been able to see through his eyes when he had tested her. Had he been able to see through hers? If Larsi had the mark, that would explain how he’d been able to shoot people without looking at them.
Tes didn’t have the energy to ponder further. She wasn’t looking forward to the walk back. Hopefully it wouldn’t take all night. Maybe they could find a late night carriage. Or an alcove to collapse in. At this point, Tes would have taken either.
Professor Visuri was fraught with worry. She wanted desperately to keep staring out the window of her carriage as it rolled along the smooth cobbles, though she didn’t dare. Instead, she slumped into her seat, staying far away from the view of the Terminus streets at night.
What had happened? There had been no sign of those she was meant to meet with, yet every sign of an altercation. Blood everywhere, the smell of burning, gun smoke. She was by no means a queasy woman, though she was used to those beneath her station doing the dirty work. Even so, she couldn't help but feel she might have made a terrible mistake.
If the Conexus had discovered their presence in the city, that could lead them to her. She could be arrested. Then again, there were no bodies. Perhaps her contacts had escaped with their lives, in which case they could be on their way out of the city. Or coming for her. To kill her. No loose ends.
She swallowed hard then produced a fan from her dress. To think she’d dressed up for this. A dark dress with pink and lilac floral patterns. The fan matched, of course. In high society, appearance could get you far. She had assumed it would be the same at the bottom of the barrel.
As she began fanning herself, she let loose an agitated sigh. She had put makeup on for this meeting. That meant taking the time to remove it thoroughly. There was a lecture at the Sapientia Coetus in the morning, which she was to be hosting. Only the Vis knew how much sleep she would be getting.
The carriage pulled up to her estate. Visuri felt a trickle of relief. It wasn’t logical. She was no safer here than anywhere in Terminus, she supposed, but she found comfort in her family home. As she entered the grounds, the chauffeur followed the path around the front of her garden. It might not have been as spacious as some, but it was well-kept. Hedges trimmed neatly into shapes of past family members or symbolic animals, flowerbeds lined the bottom in perfect rows, plants in neat, colour-coordinated sections. Beyond that was her manor. Three storeys of cream-coloured stone, lights shining out a handful of windows. No doubt her handmaiden would be running her a bath at the sight of her arrival. It was a shame. She would have enjoyed a bath - especially for how much she was perspiring - but she feared she wouldn't have time.
Perhaps I should indulge, she thought. I likely won’t be sleeping regardless.
The carriage slowed as it approached the guardhouse where her hired security outfit gathered. The guard on duty was tall, wearing the black hat and long coat of their uniform. Visuri leaned out the window.
“I want security at maximum tonight,” she said, making sure to keep her eloquent voice steady. “I fear trouble. You and your colleagues will be paid handsomely.”
“Oh, I’m sure we will, your Highness.”
Visuri scoffed. The gall of this servant to speak to her in such a way. Such a lack of respect. Her jowls trembled as she leaned her head further out of the window.
“Listen well, you witless dolt! I am the heiress of this manor and all staff are directly or indirectly employed by me. You will always speak to me with utmost respect. You will make an immediate and authentic apology or I will be demanding your dismissal from your employer!”
When the Professor allowed herself to breathe, she realised she had been too harsh. True, he should only have responded with a simple acknowledgement of her instruction, but she did feel a little guilty. Threatening a worker’s dismissal. The whole situation had her rattled. She needed to stay calm.
“My employer?” The security guard said. “What if I’m my own employer?”
The tall man stepped a little closer to the wagon. Visuri froze. Had they found her? Infiltrated her staff? Her heart raced. There was nothing she could do. She was trapped.
His webbed fingers grabbed the black hat and he made a bow, keeping his eyes fixed on her. White velen. Blue eyes. Burn marks around the jawline. She recognised him. But from where?
“Deniisis Perfide, Grandmaster of the Societas, at your service, m’lady.”
The fear melted back into outrage. That degenerate. Leads a guild of like-minded lowlives and thinks himself powerful. He had the gall to deceive her, to show up at her own home? She no longer felt guilty of her outburst.
“Is something amiss, m’lady?” The demvir chauffeur asked. She could have him tossed out onto the street. Maybe get some of those burly security guards to rough him up. Teach him a lesson. The Vis knew he needed one.
But his eyes betrayed his smirk. Full of caution. Wary. And there were no pistols at his belt. They were what had earned him his fame. Not here for violence then.
“No,” Visuri said reluctantly. “Here will be fine. If you head to the door they will imburse you.”
The Professor opened the door and waddled down the steps out of the carriage. Her plump body made it a difficult task. She was just glad she hadn’t opted for shoes with a higher heel.
She panted as the carriage drove off and left her with the master of thugs.
“An excellent lie,” Perfide said. “There certainly is something amiss, isn’t there?”
“Of course there is,” Visuri said, fanning herself despite the chill wind. “A glorified miscreant has found his way onto my grounds. I suggest you don’t keep me waiting. You’re here to blackmail me, aren’t you?”
The uncouth man blinked. Visuri gained a morsel of satisfaction from catching him off-guard. “Your efforts with Professor Calovan have not gone unnoticed.”
“My, my,” the velen replied, “word does travel fast.”
“A Professor suddenly starts funding his longtime personal interests with uncharacteristic vigor. Interests that coincide with my field. Then you show yourself here. For a lowborn criminal like yourself, it must appear terribly clever. Not so for one of such a pedigree as my own.”
Visuri felt smug at her straight insults. It would have made her feel better if he didn’t just stare at her, smiling all the while.
“Looks like I don’t need to keep the Lady waiting,” he said. “She’s doing that all herself.”
Visuri opened her mouth to fire another volley of acidic mockeries, but he just turned and walked around the side of the guardhouse. Furious, she snapped her fan shut and stomped after him.
“You are such a-”
When she rounded the corner, she almost walked right into him. In front of them was a wagon hiding in the shadows of the guardhouse and the outer wall. Visuri blinked.
Without warning, he opened a door and Visuri witnessed the unholy contents within. A sickening diorama of broken bodies, limbs, red with blood, piled up like a macabre stack of profiteroles. She backed away, all that fear and trepidation from the journey home renewed. She caught her dress and fell, opened her mouth to scream. Then the criminal was on top of her, hands at her face, trying to kill her. She tried to call for help again. No use with his hands around her mouth. She stopped struggling, tears welling up in her eyes. Perfide was staring at her, holding one finger over his mouth.
“Shhh.” Not trying to kill her? “Security is very tight this close to the Diamond Jewel. A couple of loud cries and the Conexus will be here in an instant. They’ll find a wagon full of corpses, all inked with markings associated with a weapons cartel from Aridus.”
Oh. As she calmed down, Visuri realised she was right. He was blackmailing her.
“Unhand me!” She hissed, slapping his arms away. She struggled to her feet and wiped down her dress, desperately clinging to any modicum of dignity she could.
“They would also find your signature on the ownership of the wagon.”
“What? I signed no such document!”
The disgusting, immoral delinquent allowed himself a smile now that he was sure he had her where he wanted her.
“I know that. But your signature is on it regardless.”
Forgery? His unbridled criminality knows no bounds!
“Now, I’m quite partial to a scandal,” he continued, looking thoughtful. “It’s almost expected that I will be involved in at least a few. It’s in my reputation. But you…”
He began counting on his fingers.
“Esteemed Professor. Dedicated Inlustran. Lone heiress to this fine noble estate. It sounds to me like a scandal is something you can ill afford.”
Visuri ground her teeth together. The leader of the Societas was known well for tossing the dice and betting high on where they landed. It was not worth questioning his commitment to whatever angle he was attempting to leverage here.
“So you want me to join forces with Professor Calovan?” She asked, turning her nose up at the name. A demvir who was ill-committed. As far as she was concerned, he lowered the grandiosity of her profession. “You want us to work towards finding a way to enter Natum, the natural plane?”
She couldn't help but bark a spiteful laugh. “A goal I have been seeking my whole career. Do you honestly think with your backing, I will grow any closer to that goal?”
“Of course not.” The criminal closed the back of the wagon as he had made his point. Even the thought of the contents brought bile to the Professor’s throat, though she wouldn’t dare show her discomfort. “I think whatever you were trying to purchase from the Aridan cartel will bring you closer to that goal.”
Visuri stiffened, then tried to pass it off as an ache from the fall by subtly stretching her back. Perfide suddenly moved closer to her with the fluidity of a snake. Visuri tensed. Refused to move. She would not be bullied by this… this…
Somehow she found her back against the wall of the guardhouse.
“Why would a Lady of your station risk association with a criminal organisation? I am confident you’re not smuggling weapons, but if the Conexus found those bodies, they might not be.”
Visuri’s brown eyes glanced to the side as the velen’s muscular arm leaned next to her head. A head taller than her, he loomed, blocking any escape, those blue eyes freezing the noblewoman to the wall. He was close enough that she could see every wrinkle in the burns on his face, close enough to smell the folium in his jacket. Close enough for him to see her fear, no matter how great the facade.
“Tell me what you are purchasing from them so I can help you claim it. For both of us.”
“Vis give me strength,” Visuri said as she stared in the mirror of the dressing table. Even with the makeup, her cheeks were red. She held the sponge to her face, wiping in slow, purposeful streaks. Every time she stopped, she could feel her hand shaking. Normally she would get a handmaiden to do this for her, but she needed a task to focus on, something physical to work out the adrenaline.
It had taken her years to plant her informants across every continent, to every civilisation. Two decades later, all those efforts had paid off. As soon as she had known the location of the artifact, she couldn’t have cared less who was in possession of it. She would pay any price. Not that the sellers needed to know that.
Her cheeks wobbled as she released a heavy breath. She’d tied her dark hair up to keep it out the way while she removed her makeup, but it was all matted. She would need to wash it tonight.
“Elsi?” The noblewoman called. Her enlil handmaiden appeared at the door. “Run me a bath.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
She rolled her shoulders once her servant had left. There was no doubt that the fall had caused her some bruising and sprains.
What a mess she had gotten herself into. So close to her goal. She need only go through the most infamous guild of lowlives and delinquents in Terminus and an organized criminal operation that spans a whole continent. At least despite his threats, that vulgar narcissist Perfide proposed to be of the same goal. His employment of Professor Calovan provided evidence towards that, unless there were depths to the ruse that Visuri was unaware. She did not believe he was capable of that, for all his reputation.
Knock knock.
“Enter.”
“The bath is running, ma’am,” Elsi said. “It should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
“Excellent.” Visuri tried to bring herself to think of the lecture in the morning. All she saw was the wagon full of bodies and that velen’s smug face. She wished she’d slapped him.
Well, she wasn’t going to sleep anyway in her state. If the Aridan cartel or the Societas were going to kill her, they could do so while she was enjoying her evening.
“Elsi? Bring tea to the bath. The nighttime blend. And cake. Three slices.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
She slowly stroked her face with the sponge again. Her hand was still shaking. Same goal or not, Visuri promised herself that she would find a way to make Perfide pay. Oh yes. She would use him as he had used her, to obtain that which she has sought for the entirety of her career. For now she would drink tea and eat cake in a nice, relaxing bath, while producing satisfying mental imagery of his incarceration or untimely demise.
Then after the lecture, she would find a way to make it her reality.