Stowaways and Spies

[Rip]

ooc: This is a continuation thread from the grapevine. Please ask before joining

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It wasn’t TOO bad of a ride, aside from Em stepping on his tail. Tai hunkered down in their sweaty little cargo box and made himself comfortable, putting his arms behind his head and feet up against the opposite wall. His tail, bitten once and now shy, hid as far from Emery as possible.

Early on, Tai had stabbed a few eye holes in the side of the box. The wood wasn’t particularly difficult to cut, but it hardly granted him any relief from the sticky heat building. The Nivali fur, sweaty and sticky and scratchy, didn’t help either. But still, he looked quite comfortable because it wouldn’t help their situation if he started complaining about it.

“So, Em,” said the thief, wiping strands of red brown hair from his eyes. “Where are we going once we reach Silvereye? What’s your game?”

[Obelisk]

Emery looked like death warmed over. His naturally pale skin had taken on a pallid look and a sheen of cold sweat covered his forehead. The ex-knight kept his complaints to himself but it was obvious by his stricken expression that he was miserable. Stuffed into a crate with a pile of musky fur and a well-meaning thief was a far cry from Brumeveil. Emery would have given anything to taste the forest’s fresh air, but every time he breathed, he was welcomed with heated air that tasted of sweat and livestock.

“The Redway Manor. I’ve personal business to attend to there.” That was as much allowance Emery was willing to offer Tai in way of explanation. The personal business was to stay personal, if at all possible, as Emery refused to burden Tai with information he did not need. Before Tai could pry with more question, Emery parried with his own--

“You failed to mention you were a witch.” His tone was flat, careful and unreadable. Blue eyes slid in the dimness toward Tai. He had not addressed the magic use earlier but with hours of travel ahead of them, Emery decided now was as good a time as any. Emery said nothing more and waited for Tai to address the subject as he wished.

[Rip]

“What?! You didn’t mention breaking into a noble mansion,” Tai barked. He crossed his arms below his chest and lolled his head back against the wood.

The Redway family. This guy was off his rocker. They were only one of the most forward rich heads in the city, no doubt surrounding themselves with trick bags full of nasty surprises for robbers and spies. He started to wonder if he took enough money for this and decided that the next time he had the chance, he’d take a bit more. To, you know, cover the cost of his funeral.

But, he itched his back on the wood grains and smiled to himself. It’d be a good story to tell the drunk men back home at the pub. ‘This one time, I met this really weird guy and he wanted me to help him break into the Redway house- yeah, the one with all the barriers and guard dogs and tons of fucking loot. Here’s how it went…’

“Alright, I think you’re crazy, but I might be a little crazy too so I’ll help you out.” Not exactly crazy… just bored. Bored enough to dodge magical lasers for the sake of a good time. “I don’t suppose you have a map or blueprints.”

Em’s question caught him by surprise, but the air ship hit a spot of rough wind and the cargo box wretched on the metal floor. Tai’s head knocked against the top of the box, and then things went steady again. He rubbed the sore spot before replying.

“Didn’t I? Well, that’d be because I’m not. That trick was something I picked up from a friend of mine. Can’t you do any magic? No? Bummer, it’s useful as hell. Unless someone gets a direct look at you, then the illusion falls apart. Magic’s like women, fickle and mean, if you get me.”

[Obelisk]

“It must have slipped my mind,” Emery remarked dryly, craning his neck to the side to rest his head upon his shoulder. “I think this method of infiltrating Silvereye proves your insanity well enough.” He maneuvered a little but this did nothing to offer him comfort. “I’ve fur in very odd places.” This was not said as a joke, simply as an observation.

Emery thought back to the manor and to its many corridors. He had spent his childhood playing games with his older brother. The manor had offered a great many hiding places and he still saw its layout clearly in his mind. He wagered things had not changed much, though it had been some ten years since he last stepped foot on the property. “I have something of the sort. You’ve no need to worry. Once there, I can negotiate my way inside.” He was confident of this and the steady quality of his voice demonstrated as much.

“I’m not sure I believe you.” He understood why people wanted to avoid the label of ‘witch’. Their lives weren’t exactly pleasant. They were kept stock, cattle to be used by the government as they wished. The fear associated with magic users often lead to violent conclusions. Emery recalled instances where he was called to investigate disturbances involving witches. Fear fed hatred and he had witnessed the bloody and battered bodies of witches laying prone in the street. He wondered if Tai was worried that Emery might be like them, those people blinded by hate and fear. “I don’t care, either way.” It was his way of curbing those worries, should they exist.

“You seem awfully young,” Emery observed, catching onto a piece of conversation that really did not warrant further explanation. “To know anything of women.” His experience with the fairer sex was limited but there was one woman--

His thoughts drifted and he took on a far-off expression.

“You seem awfully young to be living such a dangerous life.” He rectified, as if doing so would erase any mentioning of women at all.

[Rip]

“You didn’t suggest any alternatives.” He said, crossing his ankles and toying with the loose splinters on the box. They fell away at his fingertips and stuck to the grooves like saw dust. “At least we aren’t sharing a box with something alive. Did you hear that thing over there? That’d be a grey stalker. I’ve seen them at the market before.”

Just making conversation. It was better than sitting awkwardly in the heat and sweat. Tai could entertain himself, but he had an idea that Em would squirm around making uncomfortable little noises the whole ride to Silvereye. But the conversation was taking a turn he didn’t want it to go. That was okay, however, because Tai didn’t mind getting lost and having to find his way back home. It made things more interesting.

Bemused, he said, “you’re a strange one. A man came into my uncles bar the other week and lit a stool on fire because I didn’t give him a free beer. He did it by snapping his fingers. He wasn’t a witch either.” Tai itched between his shoulders. “Besides, if you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t have brought it up. I could ask you how you know the entire internal layout of the Redway mansion, but I won’t, and I could ask you if you lived there as a servant, but I don’t think that’s the case anyhow.” Tai grinned. “I could ask you why you left if you liked it so much, but I won’t do that either because you’ll either tell me or you won’t, regardless of my curiosity. I hope you will though. It’s a long flight.”

The creature across from them screeched, rapped its claws on the thick metal of its holding container, and then went quiet. Tai watched the box shake and tremble from his peep hole. He wondered what would happen if it got away. Would it attack them? Or would it go for the driver?

… To know anything of women

Tai’s head inclined, just a tiny bit. He didn’t seem to notice, and before he could reply to that (what age did you learn anything about women?, he would’ve asked), Em changed the subject. For a moment, Tai just sat there, wondering what the hell to say, and then he let his head fall back and he laughed. It was a good natured laugh, drowned out by the persistent struggles of the grey stalker, and when he was done he was done he was still smiling.

“They say the girls like badboys, right? I guess it suits me. Besides, this is more exciting than tending to a farm, isn’t it?”

[Obelisk]

“No, I don’t suppose I did.” Infiltration wasn’t exactly Emery’s specialty. The direct approach was more his style but he did not think that simply waltzing into the city would prove effective. He had no way in knowing if the bounty was still on his head or, if after a decade vanished into the wilds, he was declared dead. “Stalkers are worse in numbers.” He had firsthand experience with the beasts after giving into curiosity and traveling to the Wastes via merchant ship. There was an ugly scar on his right forearm; a souvenir from one of the dead land’s unsavory residents.

The air felt thick as it entered his lungs and Emery wondered if it was at all possible to suffocate while breathing. “A simple curiosity. I know little of magic.” This was a half-truth. Emery had no skill in the way of magic, but he had been and the tail end of element-fueled attacks. There’d also been a period in which his dreams had been turned to night terrors. It was later he had learned that the sister of a witch he had arrested earlier had been the reason for them. “It’s not that interesting of a story, I’m afraid. I am familiar with the Redway manor and I am originally from Silveryeye. We’ll leave it at that.” He wasn’t trying to paint himself as a mystery, but Emery was slow to trust and recounting the events to the boy would only burden him with things he didn’t need to know.

“That can be true,” Emery mused, a slight smile lighting his pallid features. “Either the ‘bad boys’ or the rich. Like magpies to shiny baubles.” The low of his back gave a shock of pain in protest and Emery shifted, head smacking against the wooden walls of their momentary jail. “So you traded honest work for a life of adventure and danger. I can’t say I find that decision exceptionally clever.” And Emery had traded the life of a ‘hero’ for that of a hermit playing dress up in the woods. “Though I am not one to judge.”

The propellers whined as they shifted and Emery felt his stomach drop. The ship was lowering in altitude, which, if he knew anything about flight (and he knew very little) meant they were nearing their destination. “Let’s hope you have more in your bag of tricks; they’re likely to search these containers for contraband and, well, as you might imagine, stowaways.” He probably should have mentioned that earlier. He mentally shrugged. Too late now.

[Rip]

“If you say so,” he said, resting his cheek on his bony shoulder. The grey stalker whined like a whirl of metal splinters scraping against a chalk board. Tai sighed through his nose. He hoped Em wasn’t going to do anything especially illegal once they got in there (and they WOULD get in. That wasn’t the part that worried him). If things turned bad, like the guy pulled out a gun or a knife and did away with someone for revenge, Tai wasn’t sure what he’d do. Try to stop it, probably. Hopefully. Or maybe he’d just stand there like a dumbass deer while a low flying airship comes tearing towards it, bright headlights all strung out like two glowing eyes in the dark.

The air in the box changed, and Tai felt the sensation of dropping. The pressure reassured him. Yes, they were landing. Creeping towards the air dock where heavy lifting workers would haul their sorry behinds up a strip and into some kind of transport that would rush them to whoever bought all this nivali fur. He didn’t check for the shipment label before they got in the box, but Tai didn’t intend on staying in this sweaty thing for much longer.

“Nah.” He said, looking out the peek hole. “Getting into Silvereye isn’t that difficult. It’s the leaving part that’s gonna hitch us up. I don’t know where you’ve been hiding out all this time, but the rainy city isn’t very friendly these days. They’re peculiar about who gets out from behind the wall. They require exit passes. We might have to get creative if it goes badly because I can tell you that there aren’t many cargo ships going out to Carden or Red Axe from dear ol’ Silvereye.”

Something wild and bubbling stirred in his gut, and Tai realized with hidden amusement that he half hoped it would go badly. Just to know if he could deal with it. Just to have a story to tell later. I must be going crazy. It’s the only explanation. Cool.

Honest work. Hm.

“What honest work?” He asked, looking at Emery with honest curiosity. Right after, the ship lurched. The box slid across the floor and slammed against the hatch, and Tai felt his elbow flare up in pain. He stifled a yelp of surprise while the ship steadied itself, shaking like a drunk with a hangover. It’s movements were greasy and uneven, and when it hit the dock they all knew it because the damn thing near broke in half.

Toppled and confused under an ocean of shed nivali fur, the thief found himself staring at his own tail. He was folded in on himself, and if not for the dark of the box, he could’ve counted the seams in his pants.

“Guess we’re here.” He strained, trying to untangle his lungs.

[Obelisk]

Emery was not afraid of dying or being thrown into jail and left to rot. His fear, as it always had, revolved around failure. He wanted to see this mission through, he wanted to know why Reginald was to remarry and what had happened to his mother. There were nights in Brumeveil, quiet and cold, where his mind would drift and he’d hear her, his mother, singing a familiar lullaby. The memory of her was embodied everything good he remembered of home and every time that song drifted through the annals of his mind, his heart broke. By now it was fragmented and ugly mess, but it served as a reminder that no matter what costume he threw on, Emery, at his core, was human and vulnerable.

“Silvereye was never friendly,” He commented with a certainty that left no room for rebuttal. As a noble and as a knight, he had bore witness to Silvereye’s true face, and the lady was vindictive and cruel. “Surely the life of a farmer is honest?” He returned, but choked on the last of his words when the ship stalled, throwing him forward then back. If he was feeling sick earlier, now he was damned miserable and to the point spilling his guts was a very real possibility.

He swallowed and held his breath, screwing his eyes shut and willing the ship to land faster and smoothly.

“Thank the Architect.” His muffled voice returned weakly and Emery attempted to right himself. He’d ended up pressed flat against the crate’s side with his neck at a most awkward angle. The thunderous clang of the cargo bay unlocking was a welcomed sound. A rush of clean, rain-scented air flooded into the compartment and with it came a sudden pang of homesickness. Emery choked on the feeling and buried it deep, regaining his composure with a single determined thought.

“Oi, watch it boy! I know you’re new but, Archtect’s beard, you walk like you just learned to do so naught but an hour ago!”

Emery fell completely still, hands pressed flat against the box’s side as he listened to the fall of boots outside.

“Sorry sir!”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get on with it, will you? I ain’t eaten all day and I’m lookin’ forward to goin home early.”

The boy stuttered and Emery imagined he couldn’t be much over fourteen.

“Right! Over here then? Is this it? What’s in here anyway?”

“Grey stalkers. Don’t get to close, boy. They spit acid, you know. Melt your face right off.”

“Really?”
A hardy guffaw gave Emery a start. They were close.

“Just pullin’ your leg, lad. What we’re after are these here boxes.”

A loud trio of thumps echoed into their crate and Emery sent Tai a meaningful glance. It read:
Here we go.

“Nivali fur. The boss is gonna make a fortune.”

“Boy, I sure hope that puts him in a better mood.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, kid.”

The box lurched and after a few starts and stops, it was wheeled out. He could hear the familiar sound of the city and the distinct patter of rain drumming atop the lid. “Where are they taking us?” He whispered harshly, wondering if this, at all, was part of Tai’s plan.

[Rip]

After unknotting his body, Tai stretched his neck until he could peer out the peek hole. He needn’t have bothered. Just as the ship went still, the hatch to the hold opened with a hiss and crank of rusty gears and the clank clank of boots stomped besides them. Fresh air rode in on the breeze that flushed the stale hold, air that smelled of salt and rain and grease.

Someone removed the wailing creature that thrashed and screamed, and then, suddenly, Tai and Emery were suspended in the air between two grunting men.

They chattered about nothing. But this nothing had significance and, damn it, Tai was going to find it. Between their strips of meaningless banter, he discovered two things:

1. the client who purchased the fur was of the private kind, meaning it was not likely they could slip out undetected while waiting in some noisy factory.
2. the two men were not especially intelligent.

The second observation, thankfully, counterbalanced the first. Fighting a pissed off noble businessman was too sticky even for Carden street urchins, and while Emery looked capable Tai didn’t want to risk their heads due to sloppy thinking.

Where are they taking us?

“Nowhere.” He replied, dipping his hands into one of the bags dangling off his belt. In between his thin fingers, Tai clenched cold, black stone. This stone was, in fact, hollowed out and filled with gritty smoke and false fire. It could burn the throat and the eyes and stink to high heaven, and there was nothing magic about it. That mattered most. He didn’t want to let his little adventure partner in on any secrets. Especially not in fucking Silvereye.

The cargo box rocked back and forth as the kid stumbled with the weight, but they never fell. Self assured that they weren’t carrying the thing over their heads, Tai took his knife and dug a hole out the bottom of the box. It was small, rugged looking thing, just big enough for something tiny and sinister to sneak through. Tai crouched, his legs straining and uncomfortable, and flicked the stone three times. Then he dropped it, and soon as it hit the ground it burst into a rush of black smog that engulfed everything within five feet. The workers yelped and dropped them, the elder of the two cursed and carried on just as Tai kicked off the top and yanked at Emery. He’d pulled the bandana over his mouth and nose to block out the worse of it, but every breath filled his longs with burnt ash and water ran down his eyes.

“Move! Now!” he said, trying to lead the man out of the cloud and away from gathering spectators. Out of the docks and down the allyways, into the dirt and the ignored alleyways that Silvereye liked to pretend didn’t exist.

If, when, they were safe, Tai started laughing. He couldn’t help it. He’d never used a smoke bomb to escape from a goddamn wooden box before.

[Obelisk]

With Tai maneuvering around and doing something out of his view, Emery decided he really wasn’t made for this type of thing. All this sneaking around made him feel like a criminal. A small voice in his head piped up – oh, but you are. He didn’t dwell on it, couldn’t when the crate dropped open and everything was consumed in a billowing smoke. Confusion set in but was chased off when Tai called him to action. Emery rolled to his feet and disappeared down the alleyway, boots splashing in the ever-present puddles inhabiting the dips and cracks on the street.

Once a fair distance away from the commotion, Emery stopped and whipped around, back smacking against one of the alleyway’s walls. He rubbed at his eyes, intent on getting the smoke-induced sting out of them. “Very theatrical.” He noted dryly, blinking several times. He upturned his head, face angled towards the cloudy sky. Rain fell gently, cool and soothing against his face. The smell, the sounds, the feel of Silvereye’s atmosphere—he was home. After ten long years, he was home.

There was no time to wax nostalgic and Emery set a determined gaze down the road, taking in the surrounding structures. Silvereye had a very distinct skyline and Emery had always managed to approximate his location in relationship to the castle’s towers. “This way.” He was sure of it. For all his sleuthing and secrecy earlier, Emery now walked with purpose, posture straight, shoulders squared. He seemed like a different man, an important man.

“I would not blame you should you choose to opt out now. It will only get more dangerous from this point on.” Blue eyes regarded Tai coolly. “I know the manor well enough to get in on my own.” This he was not positive of, but Emery did not want the added responsibility of watching Tai’s back should things go awry.

As they passed through the network of side streets and alleyways, something on the wall caught Emery’s attention. He stopped and stepped towards an old bulletin board sheltered from the elements by a wooden alcove. There was old paper with a water stained portrait. Rips and moth-eaten holes made the features indiscernible. Pieces of the text were torn and eaten away but Emery made out a few letters--

Wanted Dead or Alive:

Em (a tear here) edwa (another tear)

For the (a tear)der of Sir Sea(an entire piece of the paper was missing here)

The ink bled and made the majority of the writing illegible.

His mind filled in the missing pieces. Emery Redway. For the murder of Sir Seamus Murphy.

Emery’s jaw set and he moved away, starting down the street again in silence. He only made it a short distance before stopping. He held out his hand to the side and in it was a familiar coin purse.

“Take it and go.”

[Rip]

Tai ignored Emery’s grumbling and threw rapid looks over his shoulder. Back towards the black cloud of stinky ash that had the entire goddamn dock in an uproar. What was that! The fucking shipment is ruined! Oh my god we’re going to lose our jobs! The smoke bulged with gassy tumors, pulsing like a heart, slithering through the rainy air and around a gaping crowd of men pulling handkerchiefs around their noises.

This was quite possibly the coolest thing he’d ever done in his whole life.

He couldn’t hide his excitement; he was jittery, tail thrashing like a cat’s and arching in the air. Would they know that two sneaky little (okay, emery was not so little) bastards just leapt from out that crate like fucking Jack out his fucking box? Would they find the broken shell of the used bomb dying in the center of the gritty cloud? Oh, he thought they would, and he thought that the docks of Silvereye would be talking about this one for a while. A bloody while.

Grinning ear to ear, he bounced after Emery, hardly taking notice that they stopped until he came inches from running into the guy. “Hey! Watch you’re-“ His eyes followed the man’s intense (what the hell, everything about Emery was intense) and shut the hell up quick.

There, stamped like age old grease from a piss stain, was a wanted posted. If he hadn’t been looking for it, Tai never would have seen it. The drawing (or photo? Age made it impossible to tell) was of a younger version, and many of the finer details were eaten by time, but the cheeks and the nose were…

“Looks like you.” He said quietly, and tried to make out the words. E. M. Em? Edwa. Em Edward? What a stupid last name, he thought. Alliteration was lost on him. For the …der. Der? Murder? His brain wracked with possibilities; what did the stranger from nowhere do to get his name up on Silvereye’s blacklist?

Perhaps he was a rogue witch. Was that why he asked about the illusion magic?

Nah. If he was a rogue witch, he wouldn’t have been so helpless back there. Hum…

Take it and go

“What?” Tai turned to the man and found himself eye level with an extremely familiar purse. An eyebrow rose up, his tail flicked and the boy rolled his shoulders. He took the purse, feeling it between his fingers, and let it drop into a pouch on his belt. The grey cloud behind them was dispersing, he could hear the men at the docks hoot and holler as they discovered the remains of his sad little bomb.

“That was generous of you. Now which way to the manor?” The grin was still there. "I can tail you like a bloodhound or we can do this like you originally planned. Your pick. This is way too interesting for me to take off. Thanks for the raise, though. I agree that that trick back there was worth a big tip."

[Obelisk]

For the first instance in the short time they had known each other, something close to anger entered into Emery’s steady blue eyes. It was like ice melting to a sharpened edge, clear and dangerous. The scowl stretched across his thin lips remained his only response for a while. The glare was unblinking but behind his disapproval was an obvious indication of thought. Emery considered Tai’s words and considered what little he had learned of the thief’s behavior.

He felt he could say one thing for certain--

Nothing short of physically restraining the boy would keep him from following.

“You’re fortunate that I do not wish to waste time arguing.” And so Tai would be coming along after all. Emery did not hide his dissatisfaction and his demeanor turned a degree cooler towards his tagalong. Looks like you. Emery had left that observation alone. Tai could draw what conclusions he wanted; it was not as if Emery could stop him from thinking. The thief’s motives became a source of unwanted suspicion. He could understand the want of money but now that Tai had the entire purse in his clutches, why choose to remain? Their personalities were so different and Emery could not understand that Tai followed only to slake his lust for adventure.

The memories rose from the recesses of his mind, phasing from ghosts into something tangible and solid. He saw the path before him and remembered. “This way. Yes, I’m sure of it now.” They cut through the web of dark streets and not once did Emery’s step faltered. If Tai had not been so quick of stride, he would have had to result to jogging to keep pace with the determined knight. Or ex-knight, as it were. His mind always did that—each time he recalled the title, he would immediately rectify it, putting the ex in. Never forget the life you forfeit, remember your failings, keep them with you, close and guarded.

Wagon wheels rumbled past and the alley opened up into a large street. There, in the not-to-far distance, sat a large manor. The structure was built in the earlier gothic fashion that was popular in Silvereye’s history. “We’ll go around back. There’s a servant’s entrance connected to the cellar. We get into the cellar, we can make our way into the kitchen.” Emery worked past the perimeter of the black-iron fence that surrounded the manor grounds. Once they were stationed in the back, he pointed towards the two large wooden doors nestled on the ground near the west wing of the building.

“There, you see it?” His hands gripped at two of the bars and he looked around, trying to find a way over the fence. Then the sound of howls and barks broke his concentration. He looked into the large yard to see a pack of hounds romping around in the grass. “And, of course, there’s the issue of the dogs…” Where had those come from? Reginald had opted not to keep any hounds due to Genevieve’s severe allergies.

Maybe Tai’s lingering presence wasn’t so much of a hindrance. “I trust you have more left in your bag of tricks?” He sounded impatient and kept eyeing the manor. They were close and yet so far.

[Rip]

Shaky seconds ticked by in the misty air. Emery didn’t shout at him or shake a fist. Time went cold, and for a minute Tai felt his gut drop and anticipation flutter in his ribcage. He thought, just for a moment, that the stranger was going to lung for him. Try to hurt him. Out of frustration or rage or who knew? Tai’s hands were hidden, careful, careful misdirection, but they were still there, over the sheath of his dagger, and he was ready to slash and run if it came to that. The smiled remained the whole time. Facades. Illusions. Distractions.

But the moment past.

“Kind of you.” He said in a cheerful voice. A trained voice. He knew how to deal with situations like this. The electric tension dispersed, but Tai hung back just in case. Paved sidewalk slide smoothly under his boots. So different from Carden, from Red Axe. Everything was sneakier here. Hidden underneath polished goods. Polished faces too. If Emery was a Silvereye man, for real, then he’d have to watch his back.

Tai followed. He had nothing better to do.

Round the wagons like fucking rabbits. Monkey boy was quick and kept pace, but he noticed the strut and the swagger and the anticipation in Em’s walk. Something was waiting at the end of this little tunnel. Something that might open its arms and smile and give them all a feast. Or maybe it was something with teeth. Who knew? Em seemed to think he did, but Tai wasn’t so sure. Still, he followed, curiosity shuddering.

All around him were people. People in heavy dress, people in uniforms, people with order to their lives. There was something grotesque about the city, as if it were run by OCD maniacs. Like the whole damn place was a parody of their illogical habits.

A dog barked.

Another howled.

He knew where this was going.

“Heh! That’s all?” Tai snorted, squatting besides Em. He dug through his pockets until he felt a shape with multiple attachments, many joints. From out his pocket he pulled a toy tiger. Its limbs bent in and out, thanks to ridiculously obvious ball joints, and the black stripes were fading into a dirty brown. The boy looked at it fondly and held covered it with his hands. Drawing it to his chest, he narrowed his eyes to slits and whispered between his thumbs. Gibberous, empty promises, words that meant nothing in their context.

In this way, he cast the second spell of the day.

A brass screw stuck out the tiger’s back like a spear. Tai turned it, and the crank made hissing clicks before resisting. The boy set down his hands and let the toy walk out in its stiff, raggedy atrifical walk. It lumbered and labored past the entrence gate, and it slipped among the hounds with whirling clicks.

Two dogs fought over a sliver of dried meet. The tiger walked between them. When they noticed, their ears shot up and they leapt away, only to return with snarls. They were trained mutts, mongrels of high pedigree, honed to kill things that moved and threatened. This threatened. Their jowls salivated and the hackles on their necks danced in spikes and pillars. They lunged, teeth gnashing in the space between preditor and prey, and then the tiger grew to the size of a small bus. It raised its mechanical paws and flashed its steel claws and hung its elongated shoot of a mouth.

It roared to the pack and sent them scattering back, clicking and ticking and wrenching.

Tai nudged Em. “Quick, let’s go. They'll catch on soon.”

[Obelisk]

Emery knew little of magic; his one rule in identifying the skill was that it had the capacity of making the impossible a reality. The toy jittered across the yard and he had no understanding of why, of all things, Tai had chosen to use such a harmless-looking contraption. He should have known better than to assume anything and was stupefied at the sight of the toy growing and taking on its own life. Emery was completely bewildered.

He was also impressed.

“Over the fence, then, hurry.” Though he was no trained thief, Emery was surprisingly agile. He was up and over the iron barrier with little effort. Boots hit against a perfectly-manicured yard and Emery rose to his feet, speeding straight towards the cellar doors. Stretching and wrapped across the metal handles of both doors was a heavy chain, and at its center, holding them together, was a heavy lock. Tai may have easily been able to unlock the device, but the bickering hounds forced Emery into action. He pulled a knife from his belt and it was a fine weapon, the metal of its blade gleaming in a show of superior craftsmanship. He quickly shoved the blade through the arch of the lock and then, using leverage and his weight, shoved down onto the weapon’s handle. The inferior metal of stood no chance against the blade and force. It broke apart and the chains sagged; Emery pulled them away and threw a door open, wincing when the hinges gave an awful wail.

Tense blue eyes shot in the direction of the dogs; he knew that they would not ignore the sound. “Inside. Now, go.” The steel of his voice portrayed a controlled sense of urgency. With Tai inside, Emery was swift to follow. He shut the doors from the inside and was immediately assaulted by the smell of fermenting wine. There was no light in the cellar save for the weak illumination streaming in from atop the staircase leading to the house. “Watch your step.” He had hidden here once, behind one of the large barrels, in a game of hide-and-seek. The layout had not changed much, if at all, from his memory.

“Quiet,” He warned before slowly ascending the staircase. The door was slightly ajar and a bar of light cut across his face when he leaned in, spying into the kitchen. There was no noise, no heat emanating from a cooking fire. Braver now, he pushed the door open just a fraction and took stock of the room once again. There was no evidence of anyone inside. “Odd.” He murmured before slipping through the door. There were dishes, no food left out in preparation of a meal. Emery chose to move to the door across the kitchen; this one lead out to the hallway that served as the main artery to the household. He peered outside and then jerked away from the door quickly, to evade being seen. A pair of guards were walking down the corridor and he could hear the jostle of their armor. “It should take them another two minutes for their rounds to bring them in this direction again.” Plenty of time.

He led Tai down the west wing and towards the east, mindful to stop and check for anyone that might spot them. The manor was largely deserted, which was unsettling. He remembered the halls always being full of guests come to socialize and the unfortunate seeking help. His father held council in the heart of the manor where there was a room similar to that of a throne room. Two ridiculously large doors stood before them and Emery pushed passed and there was a hint of impatience to his movements. The large chair that stood atop a plateau formed by three steps was empty. The smaller, but more intricately designed chair at its side was also empty.

“He was always here at this hour. To give council to those seeking advice or aid.” Such was the station of a responsible lord. Reginald had made his family’s name by offering help to the less fortunate, putting back into the infrastructure of the city he so loved. More questions than answers came Emery’s way and he geared his mind towards finding a different solution.

“This way.” He hurried towards the door in the back of the room and opened it. He had brought Tai into an office with walls lined in bookshelves. It was a miniature library and smelled of old paper and ink. Emery moved immediately to the dark wood desk and began to search it, obviously looking for a specific item. “Look for a ledger. Dark leather binding. No title on the front. The paper within is lined with gold ink. “ Emery saw the book clearly in his mind. His father recorded events of interest within the pages. He was a meticulous man, careful to write down everything as if failing to do so would mean losing the memory forever.

[Rip]

Claws flashed in the air as the dogs cowered and brayed, but then they remembered their duties and they lunged. They broke through the illusion, their bodies passing through the enemy only to find empty space. The hounds crashed to the ground and snarled in confusion. All that squealed before them was a little toy tiger, whirling its gears and clanking its thick limbs.

Tai watched them tear it apart. Like all childhood toys, it was like a memory getting taken by the monster down the drain. He sighed.

No time for nostalgia though. Not with Emery going all gun-ho on the goddamn lock! To his horror, the man stabbed his knife into the key hole and yanked. Rusty chains rattled and shrieked against the cold, wet ground, and the dogs across the way turned in surprise. Ears up and lips drawn and teeth glittering in the rain. Tai hissed through his teeth, a sound lost among the chaos, but slipped inside the doors regardless. The air changed and reeked of heavy dust. Each lung full was itchy wool.

“Don’t do that again,” he said. The wooden steps were bloated with water and absorbed the sound of their footsteps. No amount of soggy slabs would take away that rattling chain though. “Next time, let me pick the damn thing.”

He followed Emery, eyes rolling over the marvels of a noble house. Amongst the clean walls and decorated rugs, lining miles and miles of hallway, Tai stuck out like a bruise on china skin. He wondered what kind of loot the good man of the house had stored away behind the endless doors. He wondered if the servants ever got lost in the closets and never came out. Throughout his childhood, Tai spent a great deal theorizing with his friends, greasy back handed boys of the alleyways, what went on in royal mansions. They concluded that all of them were haunted, probably by children who hid in small spaces and never found their way out. Shriveled little bodies, rotting and mummifying in some obscure corner of an impossible house.

Emery led him around. So obvious. The guy wasn’t much for stealth, not in this situation and not against Tai. The boy wasn’t sure if he wanted to develop any ideas as for HOW or WHY the stranger knew the inner construction of the mansion, not yet anyway, but it was hard to keep his curiosity in check. Especially when this was such a boring place! This whole time, they passed only two other people. Guests, maybe, or lay back guards. Emery hiding was comical. Tai didn’t put as much effort into it. Didn’t see the need.

He let the guy have his fun, though.
Finally, they came to something a little more interesting. Books, in the right hands, could open up a whole shit load of money. Tai rubbed his hands, eyeing the backroom.

“Right, black book, got it,” he said, then slipped behind the shelves. Books went on forever. What was it with nobles and their need to make everything so big? Did they feel safe in places like this? Or maybe it was just to entertain themselves. He ran his fingertips along the books as he walked. Dust came off, twisting like tapeworms in the grooves of his fingerprints.

Odd books. Witchcraft and histories, autobiographies and strange languages. Whoever owned this place was well versed in the category of ‘nothing anyone cares about’. He was about to go back, whine to Emery that this was way too easy, when he noticed a light just down the aisle. Tai dropped to a knee and crouched, silent but for short, fluttering breath, and inched forward. It was a fickle light, no doubt from candles. Candles meant someone was probably in there with it, to make sure it didn’t topple over and burn all the brittle paper to ash.

He slid on the carpet, quiet and slow, mixing with the shadow and light. No sound came from the doorway. Did they hear them come in? Hear them talking? Were they hiding? He reached the lip of the doorway and peered in. A long dark shape rose beside a desk, and Tai drew back, holding his breath. He allowed five heartbeats to thunder past before looking again. The dark shape was just a lamp post. Nothing living, nothing aware was in that room.

He let the breath out in a rush and mumbled to himself, then stood roughly. He walked into the room, and was assaulted with the strangest collection he’d ever seen.

The walls, brick and wood and beautiful, were covered with yellowing newspapers. Tattered clippings about the Halfsun bomb. Photographs of dead children and screaming women. Of burning men and amputee soldiers. Tai advanced, realizing now that his silence had a different purpose. It was like walking through a cemetery at midnight.

Red and black markings were slashed across the newspaper. Mathematical equations chalked on the floor, besides ancient spells he couldn’t recognize. Science and magic intertwined, snaking around a globe of their earth on the desk.

What the hell was this?

“Em?” He called over his shoulder. “Do you know what any of this is?”

[Obelisk]

It was like walking into his past. Nothing about the manor was different. The decorations were the same. The smells, the temperature—If he had not known better, Emery would think this one of dreams. The silence inside rooted him in reality; it had never been this quiet. Perhaps the deadness of the atmosphere should have been foreboding, but Emery was far too transfixed on his task to give it much thought. There was little care in his actions as he rifled through the bookcases and desk, searching for the ledger he knew held answers.

He was angry for reasons he could not identify. Emery should have realized that the burning, acrid feeling in his gut was due to his already knowing the answers. His mother was dead; all evidence pointed to that conclusion. But to read it in his father’s own handwriting – he needed the affirmation, like a child in want of a parent’s consoling words. Old books and dusty scrolls carelessly dropped to the ground and if Emery had demonstrated his pathetic ‘skills’ in stealth earlier, this was a showcase of complete recklessness.

“It was always here. Always.” He murmured under his breath as an agonizing frustration seized at his chest. He thought to look to Tai, to see if the practiced thief had managed better luck than he. That was when he heard Tai’s voice calling from a room Emery had never known existed. Perplexed, he stepped inside and froze at the sight of papers and photos. There was handwriting scrawled across parchment, maps, and even the walls. Some words he recognized as those created by his father’s hands. Others were too hurried as if the writer had been desperate to get the thought out before it escaped him. Those bits were hardly legible.

The sense of wrongness he had been avoiding earlier chose that moment to make its presence known. He was alarmed, off put enough for the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. He had felt this way once before. There had been an investigation. An old house. Markings upon the walls and floor. Candles. Cut and mutilated bodies of animals. The scene had spoken of dark obsession, a cultist’s playground. This room with the shrine to the greatest tragedy in their collective history, invoked the same atmosphere.

“No. I…” He was stricken, unsure of what any of it meant. “I was not aware this room was here.” A gloved hand reached out and touched the horrified expression of a man whose face was covered in burns. “My father never gave any indication that he…” That he what? Collected articles and photos associated with the Halfsun bomb? Emery’s mind was too bewildered to proceed.

“I am not sure what to make of this.” He finished lamely, unaware that he’d finally given up the ruse. Tai had his answer as to why Emery knew the layout of the manor so well. “These photos. Those articles. They are contraband. Why would he have them?” It had been the effort of the government to weed out the details of the Halfsun incident from the citizen’s minds. The destruction had inspired riots and paranoia in regards to the military and the establishment. Some things, as they said, were better left forgotten.

[Rip]

Tai recognized some of the marks from old books. Old, old books with worn out covers and thin leather binding. He eyed Em as the man touched the photographs and found, to his surprise, a twinge of disgust flicking his upper lip. The room felt wrong. Unnatural. At first, he couldn’t understand why. Historians studied this stuff constantly, to understand. The material was sensitive, yeah, but they weren’t diving into that stuff to upset people intentionally…

Then he got it. This room was like a shrine.

“This is old sorcery,” he said, and never moved from the spot. The curiosity that drove him into ridiculous situations was laying low and growling in the dark. Every hair on his body spiked and prickled and the flesh of his arms pinched like immature blisters. “This is weird, man. I’m going back outside. I don’t like it in here.”

Whether or not Em followed him, Tai passed through the doorway, and with his back turned to the room he felt the eyes of something hungry on his spine. He restrained himself from running like a five year old fool by biting the inside of his cheeks. Walk slowly. Don’t be an idiot. The only person in there is Em.

Tai walked, and soon as he was outside the room he stepped to the left and leaned against the wall, just beside the doorway. To his dismay, his heart was beating rather fast for such a stupid reason. He kicked his feet and scuffed the floor and tasted the coppery bite in his cheek to hide his embarrassment. At least, out of the range of the door way, he felt safer. It was like he just walked into the blind spot of some ogre.

“Hmp.”

[Obelisk]

The collection and the odd symbols and writing spoke of sorcery, this Emery would not deny. He remained silent, sparing Tai only a glance as he slipped back into the study. Old Sorcery. Reginald had never exhibited signs of magic and if he had, then why had he never worn a collar? Nobility, power, prestige – Emery’s mind supplied a probable answer. He refused to acknowledge the evidence for what it was and for what it indicated because it was too much too soon. Despite his inability to stomach what was being presented, Emery found it impossible to leave the room. He stood there, in the middle, staring at the walls and the pictures, reading what he could of the handwriting, seeing everything and absorbing nothing.

His silence was absolute. The only noise that would keep Tai company in the study was the tick-tock of an old clock hanging on the wall.

Then the sound of footsteps, quick and deliberate. Emery remained oblivious.

“My Lord? I had thought you were –“ The voice, distinctly feminine cut off and in the doorway to the study stood a tall woman dressed in a soldier’s uniform. Her hair was cropped short and white-blonde, and her eyes were piercing amber. Around her neck was the universal sign of the witch; a collar with an inset stone that harbored a faint, pulsating glow. “Who are you.” She demanded, voice matching the steel and danger of the gun she had pulled out, the gun that was now pointed directly at Tai.

Emery rose from his stupor when a familiar voice caught his attention. He followed it numbly, as if relearning how to move. Once he had entered into the study, the woman’s attention shot towards him. The gun was now pointed at Emery. She blinked. A look of disbelief settled onto her sharp features.

“Emery?” The name was spoken with a mixture of awe and inhibition, as if speaking it would invoke a curse.

“Gail.” The moment he spoke her name, Gail’s face contorted in anger.

“You have no right to be here.”

She was right, he thought, but that would not change the fact that he was here.

“What’s that room for?” He questioned and his voice was steady. He acted as if there was no history between his self and the soldier-witch at all.

Gail’s jaw clenched and her teeth grit. “Did you kill him?”

A pause, but a brief one. “Gail. The room.” Emery was not to be dissuaded.

“Did you kill him?” Either was Gail.

Emery fell silent and he stared back at Gail evenly, radiating the calm, detachedness he had exhibited earlier.

“You haven’t denied it. From you, that’s as good as a ‘yes’.” Her voice shook but whether from anger or old, recently revived emotions, was not clear. “I’m not going to bother asking why you’re here. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you are finally brought to justice.” Gail’s confidence and sense of resolve grew with every word. “For your crimes.”

“Do with me what you will, but let the boy go. His only crime was being desperate enough for money to help me break in here.” Both Emery and Gail’s attentions turned to Tai, as if they finally remembered he was in the room. She seemed conflicted at first but stepped aside, all the while keeping her weapon trained on Emery. “Go. If you can evade the other guards, then you’ve won your freedom.”

“Go, Tai.” His aloofness pulled back to reveal a hard, commanding gaze though his voice was soft. He knew Gail’s nature. He understood her sense of morality. He knew where her sympathy extended to and where it did not. The poor and the destitute enjoyed a softer hand. And Tai certainly looked the part.

[Rip]

Tai waited while Em did whatever the hell he was doing in that massacre shrine of a room. While leaning against the wall, scuffing his shoes on the nice polished floor, he wondered what made him so paranoid. It was like he was five again, bolting past dark corners just in case the boogeyman was hungry for little boys. He glanced over and saw the candle light filtering through the open space. Long shadows jumped up the book shelves and crept over the dusty rugs while the flame danced before the occult.

He felt incredibly silly.

Tai rolled his shoulders, itching his back against the smooth wood frame, and crossed his arms below his chest. He could leave whenever he wanted. Em’s money was cradled safely in his pocket. If the guy thought he was going to have a change of heart and pass it back, well… heh. Still, a disturbing curiosity had him by the balls. He supposed this is what a cat feels before its last life is chopped away. Or how passersby gawk at air raid bodies, still screaming in the street.

All this insight over a stupid room? Tai puffed out his nose. Hopefully Em wouldn’t be long. This place was creepy and-

Footsteps echoed up the halls, the click click of shoes going fast and faster. Jesus! Why didn’t he hear that before! Tai didn’t have time to do much else aside from half step away from the wall and suddenly, he was staring in the happy muzzle of a gun. It smiled at him. No candle light at the end of that tunnel, no sir.

“Ah, I’m a servant,” he said, smiling, gut fluttering while his smooth face feigned guilt. “I got lost.”

Em better not come out. Oh god, Em better hide behind something right now and not come out. If the man could stay put for a little bit while Tai tried to talk this lady down, maybe they could meet up somewhere and get the hell out of dodge.

He strained his ears. Couldn’t hear Emery. Good. Maybe the man took the hint. A little telepathic understanding.

“Could you help me to the kitchen? I sure do feel ridiculous, and I wouldn’t want to take up your time, ma’am, but…”

The woman turned away and looked at someone else. Tai closed his eyes and made a ‘tch’ with his tongue. Only one person that could be. He rolled his head on his shoulders and watched Em walk into the orge eye doorway.

“Ah hell.”

Then something interesting happened. While Emery and the woman were talking, they forgot all about him. He could probably escape now; no amount of information, despite his stupid curiosity, was worth a bullet.

Did you kill him

Fuck. Tai stayed, eyeing them both. So, that wanted sign did say ‘murder’ then? Or was this a completely unrelated event? Tai didn’t buy that. This was some tightly woven web, alright. Then, they were looking at him again. Emery called him desperate. What! What a bastard. The woman was saying something as well; had a soft spot for the unfortunate, apparently.

He could totally work with this.

“Won?” Tai piped up cheerfully. “Oh, alright. Well, it was nice meeting you Emery, you too, ma’am.” He swaggered by her, waving politely. "Such generosity! I've never felt it before. Thank you kindly." Did she see his hand at his belt? "I'll be on my way, now. Ah, ma'am, do watch Em though." He smiled. "He's a tricky little bastard, if you know what I mean."

Two things happened then. Tai's hand flashed up and something small and black went flying at the woman's face. When it struck, regardless of it's location, the black pieces blew off and set loose a growing cloud of black smoke. He may or may not have gotten out of the way from the inevitable bullet, but whatever happened, unless he was struck dead on the spot or sputtering blood, he'd hiss at Emery to get the fuck out.

[Obelisk]

Emery was hoping that Tai would do as told and slip away but of course he chose to do the opposite. Gail was no green recruit; she reacted swiftly and snapped the gun towards the location she last remembered Tai stood. The gunshot was jarringly loud and any guards within the household would surely come running. His fist crashed against the side of Gail’s chin and she fell to the ground. Emery took charge and grabbed hold of Tai’s arm, leading him through the smoke. If the thief was incapable of moving quickly, Emery would sling him over his shoulder as if the man weighed nothing.

All those years playing games around the manor now paid off in unexpected ways. He ran off down the hall, slipping through interconnected rooms, using what he knew to be the shortest path to the back of the manor. Behind them, he heard Gail’s furious voice barking commands. Find them. Arrest them. Don’t let them escape.

In his mind, he saw their goal. Out back, tucked beneath shrubbery and behind trees, was a door. Beneath this door was a ladder that led into Silvereye’s extensive waterway. When he and Fergus had first found it as youths, they never thought to question its existence. Now with the knowledge of the hidden room, Emery started to wonder. There were more pressing thoughts in his mind, however, such as how he would avoid the dogs once outside. Their options were limited; he’d have to run and hope for the best.

Through the back door and down the yard. They made it a good distance before the dogs were upon them. He dare not look behind lest he lose his footing and stumble forward. He felt paws smack against his back then heard the snapping of jowls. The dog’s teeth sunk into the loose fabric of his shirt, and failing to manage an actual grip, the dog’s equilibrium faltered and it tumbled to the earth. It was upon its feet soon after but they were nearly there.

Hounds shredded at his legs and jumped for his arms. It was a chaotic dance, trying to avoid their attacks, lashing out with kicks to keep them at bay. His legs would end up a bloody mess, but they made it. If Tai was capable of negotiating his way down the ladder, Emery would demand that the thief go first. If not, Emery would make the careful descent with Tai balanced precariously on his shoulders.

The darkness was bleak, the smell horrendous. Emery allowed for no rest because Gail knew of the entrance as well. The waterway was comprised of channels that carried water but at either side, were pathways made of brick and concrete. A man could easily stand up straight with no worry of hitting his head on the ceiling. He would wind his way through various canals, navigating by running a hand along one of the walls. When Emery felt he had put enough distance between them and the manor, he slipped into a large, round tube. The structure was made of concrete and used by maintenance workers as a shortcut from one section of the waterway to the next.

Inside, the ground was relatively dry. Emery crouched down, breathing is quiet rasps as he willed his body to calm. “Do you have any source of illumination? Nothing too bright. Just enough to see.” He had heard stories of monsters and demons lurking in the waterways, and the odd, unidentifiable sounds that echoed off the walls did little to debunk the tales.

[Rip]

The smoke burst like black ooze, and his arm was on fire. Tai yelled and then the whole world blurred into grey and grit and pain and shadow figures darting around the room. Then he was off the ground, and as they cleared miss kind-hearted-MONKEY-SHOOTER, Tai realized he’d been confused by his own bomb.

They were in the hallway. Portraits and art rushed by in motion blurs while people shouted at them from wide swinging doors. Emery was carrying him around like a fucking potato sack.

“Em! Put me down goddamnit I can walk just fine hey are you listening to me I said that she only hit my arm I don’t need arms for running Em ‘cmon please OH MY GOD THERES DOGS RUN FASTER HOLY SHIT MAN THESE GUYS HAVE GUNS GO GO GO GO.” He had no idea where they were going, he had no description for the mansion as everything melted together and bled like water colors on soggy paper. Everything looked the same. Were they running in circles? Was this some elaborate hoax? Was uncle Michael going to tan his hide for this?

Shapeless blobs rushed them, and then he saw the teeth and the eyes and the spit and Tai knew what they were. “PUT ME DOWN! I can handle these! C’mon you scumbag! ARRGHH!!!”

A dog wrapped it’s jaws around his fist, but before it could snap off his fingers, Tai snarled and did something he would later, much later, regret. The inside of the dog’s mouth glowed bloody red, and it’s eyes shot from its skull. Fire erupted from its orifices, and the stinking body crumbled away into a liquid mush. It burned and smoldered where it lay, unable to wail in its final moments. Its voice box was charred.

Finally, Emery put him down. Tai scampered down the sewer way and landed in darkness. It was ink. Blindness. He strained his eyes and rubbed his burned hand with fingers that smelled of sizzling dog hair.

“What a broad! I’ve never been shot before.” Em asked him to make a light. He could do that, easily enough. In his healthy hand, a small white orb floated above his palm. It pulsed like a heart.

He was a mess. The bullet went through his bicep, but it wasn’t deep. The skin flapped at the hole. “Ummm, here, hold this.” Whether or not Em was ready for it, he shoved the beating orb into the man’s hands. It should stay lit, unless bird-head did something silly, liked dropped it. For the meantime, Tai covered the wound with his hand. In the dull light, it was difficult to see what was happening, but when he pulled his hand away, the shot was replaced by new, pink skin.

“I’ll take that back now, thanks.”

[Obelisk]

“You seem to be in awfully good spirits,” He remarked dryly, “For someone who was just shot.” By this point, Emery was convinced that Tai lacked something very crucial and important that allowed a person to be normal. A missing a screw, a misstep in the blueprint that formed the young man’s personality – something.

A ball ignited. There, a firefly in the dark. Emery blinked and recoiled, but none the less cupped the source of light within his hands. He paid Tai’s actions little attention and instead stared into the pulsating glow. For all the terror he had witnessed magic inflict, it was also capable of making amazing things, beautiful things. He was a little in awe and maybe a little jealous – a trick like this would be so handy in Brumeveil – but forfeited the object when Tai indicated he should give it back.

It became evident at that point that Tai’s wound was no longer there. Not a witch, he thought wryly, but chose not to press the matter. They both had their secrets and if they needed to come out they would. “That was not the smartest thing to do, back there. You could have been killed.” A sigh. “But I suppose things turned out for the best. Or…as best they could given the circumstances.” Gail would undoubtedly inform the regular authorities. New wanted posters would be up come morning’s first light.

Emery rose up and took a look around. “I have no idea where we are relative to the city.” A pause. “I also have no idea how to backtrack to the manor.” This was his roundabout way of saying he had managed to get them lost in the bowels of the city. “We should not tarry for long, however. They may resort to bringing hounds down here to track us.” He moved toward the end of the tunnel, watching the water. It moved west.

“If we follow the current, it should lead us out.” This was all theory, of course, but it was better than nothing. “Or perhaps to a main chamber.” Unless Tai offered a better alternative, Emery would begin walking West, following the current.

He looked at Tai from the corner of his eye. “I apologize for not being upfront about my objectives.” Emery did not think his quest would have led to their being on the run, but certainly this was a failure in judgment. He had been too eager. He had allowed his emotions to get the better of him. “And for getting you into this mess.”

[Rip]

Emery’s constant moping confused the hell out of Tai. Did he not think they were pretty awesome after all that? Things considering, they’d snuck into Silvereye via smelly cargo box, snuck into one of the riches mansions in the city and escaped with nothing more serious than a flesh wound. And a few burn marks. Tai rubbed his wounded hand and frowned. He could take care of the bullet wound just fine, but magical wounds like this were tricky bastards. Just like them. Anyway, he declined to comment on Em’s character observation. Instead, the man presented him with the image of someone trying to work out a maze on paper. The someone gave up after a few dead ends and threw his arms in the air, declaring surrender.

“Ah! So we’re lost,” he said, balancing the fluttering ball of light in his palm. It floated above his skin, but he could feel the warmth sink into his muscles. It crept through his ligments, coiled around his bones. Not an unpleasant feeling though. The magic was checking him out. “Cool.”

“When I was a kid,” he said, following close to Emery. “we used to tell stories about Silvereye. Houses full of gold and made of silver, that kind of thing. One of my friends thought there was a statue of the Architect made all out of rubies and emeralds, held up by magic because if it wasn’t it would fall on people. What a dummy, right? ..but then there were stories about the bad things too. See, we’ve got a lot of monsters in Carden. The come from the forest and from the wastes. But here, they say there’s old things hiding in the city. In the cold, damn places. Like this goddamn sewer! Pretty neat, right?”

“So, why’d you kill ‘em?”

[Obelisk]

Emery wanted to remark that he did not believe being lost was ‘cool’ in the least, but decided it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would derail Tai’s state of mind. He tuned into what Tai said every once in a while, but largely dedicated his attention to the sounds emanating from the tunnels of the waterway. It was old brick and machinery settling, nothing more. There was no such thing as demons and ghosts and if they were, why on earth would they choose to inhabit a sewer? He would think that a house would make a nicer abode or perhaps the woods, which were incidentally the grounds he chose to haunt.

“Neat.” He repeated flatly but noticeably faltered in both expression and gait when Tai suddenly changed the subject.

For a while, the only response to Tai’s question was the sound of Emery’s boots hitting against wet concrete. The silence stretched on long enough that it appeared Emery was shunning the young man and his blasted curiosity. He was gathering his thoughts.

“He wasn’t doing anything illegal. He was acting on behalf of the law.” This was a poor start and failed to explain anything. Realizing this, Emery fell quiet again, digging back into his memory. There were the woods basked in the shadows and patchy light created by the dying sun. The woman and her child were cowering on the ground. The Witch Hunter – his armor was smoking, clothing and skin burned from elemental magic. He was lifting his gun, aiming straight at the woman’s head. Not just a woman. She was Gina. “There were times I was sent out to accompany witch hunters on their missions as backup.” There were times he wondered if his presence was merely for public relations purposes, as affirmation that what was occurring was well within the law – no matter how brutal.

“This particular mission. He was… He was going to hurt someone I knew.” Someone he cared about. “I couldn’t let him.” Emery had never spoken a word to Gina but had watched her from afar. He had grown fond of Gina despite not ever having anything remotely resembling a relationship with her. He knew it was weird. He was weird. He was feeling weird right now and found it very hard to meet Tai’s gaze, as if doing so would allow him full access to his mind.

Who knew, maybe it would. What if the Tai, on top of all his tricks, was a mind reader?

Emery increased the distance between them by a few steps.

[Rip]

A wretched odor wafted from the surface of the water. Bubbles rose from the deep black sewage and burst into a sulfurous wind that made Tai cringe. God almighty, what did they dump in this place? He racked his brain for knowledge on the water systems and found nothing buy guesses. He theorized spent magic and shit, which, actually, wasn’t neat at all.

Emery was quiet for so long that Tai almost forgot he asked a question. When the man’s voice broke through the filthy silence, he started. Oh, right, let’s hear about this so called murder. Tai listened, watching the man’s body language. The guy hid himself well.

So, it was a self-defense slash hero act. Bet it was a girl. Oy, tragic love. Kills the bad guy and then goes on the run. he thought.

Still, it gave him pause. Emery let slip some interesting information. He attended these witch hunts. Tai had heard about knights standing over hunters, just in case the public tried to protect one of its citizens (yeah, right). What did that make Em?

“What a guy! How romantic. Did you get the girl,” he leered. “sir Em?”