Solyrian Conspiracy - C M Raymond & L E Barbant Read online

  She continued down the row, healing people as she went, only stopping when she got to the end. There she found a middle-aged woman slumped against the wall. As Hannah drew closer to her, she could see that the woman’s body, her arms, and her legs were misshapen—not quite natural—and her skin was covered with burns.

  “She is in bad shape,” Hannah’s guide said.

  As Hannah knelt to grant her healing, another woman about the same age crouched next to her.

  "What happened here?"

  The woman looked at her ailing friend with admiration. "She's a Mylek like me. When everybody was running out of the building, she ran in. The strength of my people is not only in their bodies. We can shift and change shape, but our real power is in our hearts. Natalia here paid the price for her courage, and I know she would have paid it again and again if she could."

  Hannah leaned over the wounded hero. She could feel the power welling up in her body, rejuvenated by a love so deep it would sacrifice its own being for the sake of others. Hannah pushed her healing power out over the woman. Opening her eyes, she saw that the swelling was going down and the bright red splotches were fading, but it would take more.

  "Over here already," a voice cried from off to her right. Hannah spun to find Parker by her side. They both stared at a man sitting above the others in a comfortable chair positioned especially for him.

  "Just leave her. You’ve spent enough time on those people," he said with ire in his voice.

  Parker gripped her arm, knowing Hannah lacked patience for men like him. Their presumption and disregard for others reminded her of the noble class in Arcadia and the way they had treated Hannah and her friends like animals. "Keep it cool," he whispered. Then he shouted back to the man. "She’ll be with you when she can, sir."

  He laughed. “She’s wasting her magic on those Mylek freaks.”

  Parker rose to his feet. “I said, wait your damn turn.”

  “So much for keeping it cool,” Hannah whispered back.

  “You hear that, Irmand?” the man shouted. “This outsider is threatening me!”

  “Well,” Irmand said. “You’re the one acting like a jackass.”

  The man’s face turned red. “Kirill will hear about this. First you let these Mylek start the fire, then you let them suck up even more of our resources.”

  “That’s a lie,” the woman on Hannah’s left said.

  “It’s true,” a Myrna woman shouted. “I saw it myself.”

  Hannah felt Parker tense. There was going to be another brawl.

  “Everyone shut the hell up,” Irmand shouted, “or you’ll be dealing with me.” His eyes turned black, and he gripped his club in his hand. Hannah could see the unease on everyone’s face, but the fight stopped there.

  The captain of the guard turned toward the Myrna man. “You’d better get out of here. Make sure you throw a bandage on those burns before sending in your report.”

  The man rose and walked away, grumbling.

  Irmand looked at the Myrna woman. "What do you know?"

  "I saw it all start,” she said. “It was a group, a big group of Mylek wearing those blue scarves over their faces. I didn't think much of it. I mean, I've heard of the Blue Scarves. Petty vandals, that’s all I thought they were. Five minutes later, the smoke started to pour out of the windows. Five more after that, it was bedlam."

  Hannah listened and asked Irmand, "What's this all about?"

  Irmand sighed. “We’ve been getting reports like this for weeks. A group of Mylek wearing blue scarves to cover their faces is causing trouble all over town. My men, the ones I have left, have been chasing down leads for days, with no results to speak of. If anyone knows anything, they’re not talking. The Blue Scarves’ activity has really ramped up since King Aurel died. Messages have been dropped at my office and also at Kirill’s. They say they won't stop until the king's killer is brought to justice, which means this fire might only be a taste of what’s to come.”

  “You really can’t find any leads?” Parker asked. “Someone in the Mylek community has to know something.”

  Irmand laughed. "That man was right. You are a foreigner. The Mylek don’t particularly like my men and me. My guess is that they’re covering for the Blue Scarves.”

  “That’s bullshit,” the woman Hannah was healing said. She struggled to sit up. “Those radicals don’t speak for us.”

  “Yeah, Captain,” another Mylek man said. “If you didn’t notice, that apartment building was full of mostly Mylek. We’re not wild enough to burn our own.”

  “Of course,” Irmand said, his face turning pink. “I didn’t mean to suggest…”

  “It’s just like the Myrna,” the woman repeated. “Blame us Mylek for everything that goes wrong in the city.”

  “It’s okay,” Hannah said, putting her hand on the woman’s forehead. “I’m here to fix some of those wrongs.”

  The woman smiled and closed her eyes as Hannah’s healing power rushed over her. She turned back to Irmand. “Why don’t you share what intel you do have with us? We’d be more than happy to help you.”

  “Just add it to the list,” Parker added.

  Irmand rubbed his beard. "Why would you do that? What's in it for you?"

  Hannah smiled. "We’re the Bitch and Bastard Brigade. It's what we do."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The sun had finally gone down by the time the BBB convened again in front of the burned-out building. Parker dropped down on his ass, exhausted from patching people up and helping others look for their loved ones. He couldn’t get Irmand’s words out of his mind.

  This fire is the tip of what’s to come.

  Karl and Aysa sat on either side of him. Hannah remained standing.

  Poor Sal had dropped, exhausted, on the grass, his scaled body now serving as a playground for a group of Mylek street kids.

  Aysa’s eyes were locked on the building, which still showed red embers that would continue to glow for days. "Anybody have any marshmallows?" She laughed.

  "Scheisse! Too soon, Freak Girl."

  She dropped onto her back and stared up at the sky. "We need a little humor, rearick. It's how you make it through."

  Parker listened to them banter back and forth, but his mind was still on the exchange between the Myrna and the Mylek. It seemed that the Myrna had all the power in this town, which was just another thing to remind him of Arcadia during his lifetime. Naturally, he assumed the Mylek were on his side. His people. But he tried to remember that things were not always as they seemed.

  "Yeah," Hannah said. "It does feel a lot like Arcadia."

  Parker laughed. "Can you at least tell me when you're in my mind?"

  "Sorry, hot stuff. I just can't keep my mind off you."

  "It's not quite as bad as yer old days in Arcadia. At least there ain’t those sonsofbitch Hunters goin’ ‘round brandin’ people."

  "Yeah," Aysa added, "and nobody's gotten her hand cut off, either."

  Karl snorted. "That wasn't in Arcadia."

  "Okay, sure. Now my disability doesn’t matter? Great."

  Parker ignored their exchange. "As far as we know, Aurel was a good ruler. Maybe the next king will bring them a little closer to Arcadia."

  "I don't know if this town will survive long enough to become rotten through and through," Aysa said. "As far as I can tell, these people are ready to tear each other limb from limb. There's more tension here than on the Unlawful when Sal sneaks into the stash of kaffe.”

  “So, what do we know?” Hannah asked.

  “Clearly,” Parker said, “the Myrna hold the power in this town.”

  “And they’re clearly dicks,” Aysa added.

  Karl shook his head. “Not all of ‘em. One of them Myrna helped get that damn beam off me chest. Not sure if Parker and his lady friends could have done it without a lil’ physical magic from that one.”

  “Lady friends?” Hannah asked.

  Parker pushed a hand through his ash-crusted hair.
“When you’ve got it, you’ve got it. What can I say? Try not to get too jealous, babe.”

  “Oh, I’ll try.” She laughed. “So, the Myrna… They know at least rudimentary physical magic. And the Mylek?”

  “Aye, lass. Them’s the most impressive ones. They’ve got a magic I’ve heard of but ne’er seen. They change their bodies into all sorts of things, with massive hulkin’ muscles, claws, thick hides.”

  “I swear I saw one with spikes coming out of her back,” Aysa said. “Freaking awesome.”

  “And damn strong, too,” Karl added. “I’m surprised they’re not the ones runnin’ the show round here.”

  Parker looked at Hannah. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t underestimate the power of physical magic.”

  Hannah nodded. “So, how do we settle all this without testing which type of magic, body or physical, is the stronger? We need to help these people make peace before they burn this city to the ground.”

  “We can’t do that until we find out who killed the king,” Parker countered. “And who’s behind these Blue Scarf attacks.”

  Karl shrugged and patted the weapon hanging at his side. “’At’s all well and good, but ye know I’m much better when I have a clear baddie to swing me hammer at.”

  Hannah nodded. “Me too, Karl. Me too. Let’s hope Vitali has gotten a line on that little mystery.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Prince Kirill wasn’t a hard man to find.

  After speaking with the old Mylek woman, Vitali decided he would spend some time getting to know their generous host. The prince stormed around the great hall like he owned the place, which, Vitali figured, wasn’t far from the truth. And everywhere he went, he made his presence well known.

  As far as Vitali could tell, Kirill’s job was to talk, and Kirill seemed to work a lot. Even when his meetings were private, Kirill’s booming voice made it easy to pick up on the central details. The funeral was the main thing on Kirill’s mind. Day one of the three-day waiting period was almost over, which meant Team BBB didn’t have much time. Aurel would be laid to rest, and an election would determine Solyr’s fate.

  Either the city would find its way forward, or the Myrna and the Mylek would tear each other to pieces.

  While Vitali couldn’t say he liked Kirill, at least not with a straight face, it was hard to see anything sinister in the man’s actions. The funeral needed to take place, and the city needed to elect a new ruler. Kirill played the part of a politician through and through, big smiles and all.

  Vitali felt the urge to punch that big smile right down the prince’s throat.

  As night descended upon the great hall, the Lynqi didn’t even consider abandoning his watch. Night meant fewer people and less light, which meant he was freer to operate. He hoped he could get closer to his quarry, and maybe catch him in an unguarded moment.

  The night was made for spilling secrets, and Kirill did not disappoint.

  After speaking to a group of merchants about increasing food stores for the funeral, Kirill said good night to all other inquisitors and closed up the great hall. He then retired to his private study, a secure room a stone’s throw from the throne.

  It took Vitali several minutes to find a way in, but there was a small crawlspace between the decoratively arched ceiling and the second floor with enough cracks in it that Vitali could partially see the prince and hear anything spoken above a whisper. Vitali moved slowly across the hard wood until he was in place.

  And then he waited.

  It didn’t take long for him to be rewarded.

  A knock rang against the door to Kirill’s office, and without getting out of his chair, he called for the person to enter. Irmand, the captain of the guard, stepped in. The large man stepped in front of Kirill’s desk and stood at attention.

  “Well?” Kirill asked with an air of boredom. “Any news to report?”

  “Yes, sir.” Irmand cleared his throat. “The fire in the east district was almost certainly caused by foul play. At least one witness claims to have seen the Blue Scarves, but I have been unable to verify that.”

  “Oh, it was most certainly those little bastards. They would love nothing more than to see this city burn. I know they’re being protected since those Mylek scum watch out for their own.”

  “I will take care of it, sir.”

  “You damn well better,” Kirill said. He slammed his hand on the table. “This should have been dealt with weeks ago. If you can’t handle this mess, I’ll find someone who can. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Kirill leaned back in his chair. “Now, tell me about the girl. Will she be a problem?”

  “I…” Irmand paused for a second. “It is unclear. She is as powerful as we were led to believe, there is no denying that. She saved lives today.”

  “But why?” Kirill asked, shaking his head. “Why is she here? Why would she so graciously deign to help us? This is why you would make a piss-poor politician, Irmand. You have no imagination, no instinct for asking the right questions. I don’t trust this Hannah or her Bastard Brigade. No one as strong as that acts solely for the sake of others. No one. If she can help around the city, fine. I’ll allow it. But she is an outsider, and I won’t have her interfering with our work. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And your men. You’ll be able to keep them in line? I’ve heard reports about desertion and dissention in the ranks.”

  Irmand stood a little taller as he spoke. “They’ll stay in line, or they’ll get to know the business end of my club, sir.”

  “What about that man, the one who was there when—”

  “Thaed has been let go from the force, obviously, but I paid him well for his discretion. He’ll keep quiet, and no one will believe him anyway if he talks.”

  “He had better not. No one can know what Aurel was doing that night. No one. Not until after the election, at least. After that, the truth won’t matter. And then this Queen Bitch wannabe can fly off to wherever the hell she came from.”

  Thaed, Vitali repeated the man’s name to himself. It sounds like I might need to pay this man a visit.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "I don't know, Karl. It wouldn’t be such a bad city to settle down in," Aysa said as they wove through side streets toward the edge of town. "I mean, if you got rid of the king’s murder, bigotry, and terrorists, it would probably be pretty freakin’ cool."

  "Of course, ye’d think that. I mean, ye’ve never really known a home, have ye?"

  Aysa thought about that for a minute. The village she grew up in had never cared for her. And now, while following Hannah all over the world, putting down roots just wasn't much of an option.

  "The Unlawful's my home,” she finally decided.

  "It's a damn ship. An oversized coffin. Can't be yer home," Karl grumbled.

  "Anyway, what's wrong with this city?"

  "Well, like ye said, regicide and terrorists, and that's just the beginnin’."

  "Okay, so what else?"

  "It's damn hot down here in the lowlands. Hell, we’re pretty far south of anyplace where me body feels comfortable. Air as thick as stew. Bugs. No mountains. Warm ale."

  "Warm ale?" Aysa asked.

  "Well, it ain’t as cold as it is up in the Heights, that's fer sure." Karl grinned. "I know what ye think. I'll never find a place like the Heights."

  Aysa smiled. "Am I right?"

  "Probably are."

  "Why didn’t you head back home with Hadley? You could be there now, unless he ran into some real shit along the way."

  “Knowing Hadley, he likely did.” Karl paused and checked the directions an attendant had written down for them. His eyes scanned the streets until he found the side street they needed. He continued walking at a brisk pace. "Hadley tried to get me to go. Maybe he just wanted company on the trip. But if I were up in the Heights, I’d just be sittin’ around eatin’, drinkin’, smokin’ me pipe—"

  Aysa laughed. "Yea
h, sounds like a shit life."

  "Aye, a rearick can't live on hedonism alone, but the gods know most of ‘em are tryin’. Out here, travelin’ with ye, I keep me edge. Not to mention, mission brings meanin’ to life. Need a reason for bein’."

  "You writing a self-help book, rearick?"

  "Maybe I ought to, ye lil’ fucker. Ye could learn a thing or two. But it's true, ye know. Maybe me home has become the road, and my way a pilgrimage for makin’ Irth a better place."

  "Now you sound like a sappy old bastard," Aysa shot back at him with a wink. She nodded up ahead. "I think that's our place."

  They approached a storefront with an old, faded sign swinging in the wind. Hannah had asked them to find the supplies they needed to repair the Unlawful. And after pulling people from burning buildings, a nice easy task was exactly what Aysa needed to end the evening.

  They reached the door, and it was locked. Aysa looked down at the hours scrawled on the sign. "Oh, come on. Says they don't close for another two hours."

  Karl cupped his hands around his eyes as he leaned against the window. He could see someone shifting around in the back room beyond the showroom floor. "Aye, there's someone there.” He started to bang on the glass. The man looked up, then the lights in the back room went out, shrouding the place in darkness.

  "Son of a bitch," Aysa said. “If we don't get this part for the Unlawful, you might just get to see what it's like to settle down in this foreign land after all, Karl.”

  The possibility must've terrified the rearick since he continued to bang incessantly on the thin glass. The shop owner must have realized that Karl and Aysa were not going away, so he finally came to the front, unlocked the door, and pulled it open.

  "I'm sorry, I was just getting ready to close up shop for the day."

  Aysa looked him up and down. It wasn't hot, but the man's forehead was covered with sweat. "Closing up early, huh? You got a hot date or something?"