ã€ŠWindwalkerã€‹


 Chapter One: Trespasser

    Trespasser

    The punch came high and fast. If it landed it would definitely leave a mark. I dodged and countered with a jab to the ribs. It wasn¡¯t strong enough to wind him, but he¡¯d think twice before getting this close again. The cadet retreated, keeping a safe distance between us from then on. I held back a smile. Caution was good, but if you didn¡¯t pressure your opponent it left you open for an attack. I threw a few random hits to confuse him, then sidestepped and wrapped an arm around his throat. He struggled, but there was little he could do other than tap my arm in surrender.

    I let go.

    The cadet straightened and stepped back in his line, facing me as we waited for the others to finish.

    The blocky academy buildings cluttered in the distance behind us, backed into the edge of the sprawling town beyond them, but ahead everything was flat as far as the eye could see. The sparse patches of bush and lone trees scattered here and there did little to make the space feel any less empty.

    ¡°Switch!¡± Sergeant Hart¡¯s voice boomed out across the open training fields.

    My opponent and I nodded at each other in acknowledgement, then moved in opposite directions, a new face replacing his.

    ¡°Ready!¡± Hart called out. ¡°Start!¡±

    The next fight played out much the same. We took positions, exchanged a few test blows, and once his guard faltered, I rushed in, twisted his arm behind his back, and immobilised him. He tapped a surrender. The whole thing lasted a minute, and then it was on to the next fight.

    Hart called the drill ¡®five-minute fights¡¯. It was his favourite exercise. The goal was to end the confrontation as fast as possible, and the constant rotation made it hard to get used to and exploit the opponent¡¯s style. It still felt unfair. I had trained for this my entire life, while most of my classmates hadn¡¯t done any combat training before they joined the academy. And it showed.

    My next fight was against a girl I¡¯d sparred with often. She smiled when we faced off, equal parts arrogance and feigned innocence. She thought I¡¯d go easy on her just because she batted her eyelashes prettily. And then she charged. Like so many others, she still made the same mistakes. She thought she was fast and unpredictable as she threw punches in quick succession, but in reality she was uncoordinated. Her balance was poor, and if I pushed her right, she¡¯d trip over her own feet. She also complained when she lost, acting every bit the unfortunate victim, and bragged when she won, rubbing it in for a good measure. Not knowing which was worse, I let her win this one. That made three victories and two defeats, a rough balance that wouldn¡¯t make me stand out with the other students too much.

    We switched again and the next opponent still hadn¡¯t learned how to throw a proper punch without overextending himself. A matter made worse the more tired he got. I ended the fight quickly before he sprained something.

    Back in military school, students who fell behind would run the drill over and over until they corrected every weakness that the instructor could perceive. But the rules were more lenient in the academy. The emphasis was on discipline and mental skills since most cadets were training for desk positions rather than active field duty. So when they failed, all they got was a few extra laps to run.

    Our future officer corps.

    ¡°Partner switch,¡± Hart yelled out.

    I expelled a breath and wiped the sweat off my forehead. The sun was getting low but heat still lingered in a cloud of humidity. Bren, my training partner, walked over and handed me the bottle of water with a smirk.

    ¡®Show off,¡¯ his voice drifted over our mental connection.

    I gulped down what was left of the lukewarm water. It felt like we¡¯d been at it for hours, and there wasn¡¯t a muscle in my body that didn¡¯t ache with fatigue. Bren didn¡¯t look any better ¡ª his light brown hair ruffled and his gaze focused on anything but his opponent.

    Hart signalled ¡®ready¡¯ and I smacked Bren¡¯s shoulder to bring him back to the present. All it did was make him stagger forward. He cursed me mentally before approaching his opponent.

    Bren didn¡¯t move when Hart called the start. He let the other student charge him, then danced out of the way every time his opponent threw a punch. Bren dodged, blocked, or shoved him away when he got too close, leading the other cadet in endless circles. Great strategy to tire someone, or drag out a fight, but it didn¡¯t work with a time limit and a rival going in for the kill. Bren jumped aside to dodge a jab. It was a mistake.

    ¡®Feign,¡¯ I communicated too slow. His opponent twisted around and kicked at Bren¡¯s legs, bringing him down.

    One loss, back in line, and then restart.

    ¡®Would showing me all the angles count as cheating?¡¯ Bren asked the next time he got hit.

    I could give him a wider view of the fight from where I stood, point out weaknesses and openings as we did in team fights, but something told me Hart wouldn¡¯t appreciate it here.

    ¡®You¡¯re on your own.¡¯

    I felt his frown even though he had his back to me.

    ¡®Minute left. Focus,¡¯ I reminded him.

    ¡®Ah, screw this.¡¯

    He ground his feet and took the next punch straight to the core. When the cadet tried to retreat, Bren caught him by the wrist.

    The cadet stiffened.

    ¡°You don¡¯t really want to hit me, do you?¡± Bren said between breaths.

    The soldier¡¯s eyes glassed over, the tension in his shoulders easing. He shook his head and before he could change his mind, Bren spun him around and took him into a choke-hold.

    ¡®Who¡¯s showing off now?¡¯ I teased. ¡®Incoming,¡¯ I warned when Hart stalked toward him.

    The sergeant smacked Bren over the head. ¡°No abilities,¡± he scolded. ¡°Switch.¡±

    I heard Bren¡¯s mental groan as the fighting resumed. He wasn¡¯t bad at it, he just hated fighting.

    Three years ago when I¡¯d met the scrawny farm kid with bad posture, I would attribute his defeats to lack of physical training. He¡¯d gotten into the academy based on his influencer talent, and by mid first year he was at risk of flunking for consistently failing boot camp. I had needed something to keep busy, and he needed someone to coach him. We clicked immediately, and time flew as we helped each other progress.

    A lot had changed since then.

    For one, he didn¡¯t slouch anymore, and his frame had filled up enough to compete with the others. He could take down most of our classmates easily, but he played it too safe.

    ¡®Get in there and tackle him,¡¯ I urged him when his opponent threw a punch so off-centre it left his entire side exposed.

    Instead of taking advantage of the opening, Bren jumped back and out of reach. ¡®I¡¯d rather not get hit,¡¯ he retorted.

    ¡®Oh, come on! That punch wouldn¡¯t hit a target if it was right in front of him.¡¯

    Hart slapped the back of my neck hard enough to make my teeth rattle. ¡°No chatting,¡± he barked, then strolled on to watch the nearby fight.

    Next time, Bren followed my advice and earned himself a win. Two victories and a dozen ties later, Hart finally yelled out to stop. We formed a single line and waited for his next command. For a while, he just stalked up and down, giving us the stink eye and letting his aura of intimidation flow unrestrained. It took all of my focus to not spiral into a panic.

    ¡°What¡¯s with that footwork!?¡± he yelled at the girl I¡¯d fought earlier. ¡°Did you tie your shoelaces together this morning?¡± She flinched, but I had to commend her for not cowering. Back when we were still freshmen a single look from Hart had sent most students fleeing. Even today some were shaking even as they straightened their spines and tensed their muscles to hide it. Bren, on the other hand, never had a problem resisting the assault and stood irritatingly relaxed next to me.

    Hart continued his review up the line. He berated some, praised others, and advised the rest to ¡®take it seriously or go home¡¯. The latter usually ended up with double laps of the field and extended exercise routine. I held my breath when it was my turn, both terrified and fascinated about what Hart would say this time. His hand landed on my shoulder, his grey eyes levelling to mine. ¡°Good fight, Kaleo.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.??I blinked. That was a first.

    ¡°If this was a dance school,¡± he yelled. ¡°What¡¯s with those pathetic punches? This is not a pillow fight!¡± He leaned closer, speaking in a lower voice, ¡°You have good technique, but you¡¯re too scared to punch a man.¡± He nodded at the line of cadets. ¡°You¡¯re not doing anyone a favour by going easy.¡± He squeezed and shook my shoulder before letting go.

    Bren snickered, unfazed even after Hart had yelled at him for using his influence when instructed not to.

    I elbowed him. ¡®Stop that or he¡¯ll come back.¡¯

    ¡®If he does, maybe you can ask him to dance,¡¯ he replied, his face growing red with suppressed laughter.

    I jabbed him again, but what shut him up was Hart¡¯s announcement that he¡¯d have to do the extra laps because of his little stunt earlier.

    ¡®Later,¡¯ he said on his way to the ¡®failed¡¯ group. ¡®Save me a spot for dinner.¡¯ A spot and some food. Latecomers got leftovers.

    I acknowledged his message and cut our telepathic link.

    Getting to the cafeteria early was easier said than done. Hart¡¯s exercise had dragged on close to dinner and by the time I made it to the dorms, showered, and finished tending to my uniform, a thick stream of cadets crowded the main exit. A smaller, narrower staircase led out back. It was obscure enough for most students to overlook, which meant less traffic. If I hurried, I could get ahead of the crowd.

    I leaped down the stairs, taking several at a time. A door swung open, and I swerved to avoid collision. I inhaled a sharp breath as I recognised the group of students, but it was too late to back out now. It was Evander and his buddies. Just my luck.

    He smiled wide when his eyes landed on me, as if the high point of his day had just sneaked up on him. I tried to circle around and slip past them, but he blocked my path.

    ¡°What¡¯s the hurry?¡± he asked, prompting one of his buddies to snicker.

    Evander was one year my junior. He came from a long military line with a good amount of political influence in the Capital, so he acted like he owned the place. And for some reason, he had taken a particular issue with my existence.

    He lunged for me, laughing when I dodged. Taking advantage of the opening, I made to slip past him. Bad move. Someone shoved me, and I lost my footing. I half skidded, half skipped down the stairs, Evander¡¯s laughter chasing me all the way to the bottom.

    My knee slammed into the concrete landing, paralysing pain exploding in my leg. I bit back the scream, refusing to give Evander the satisfaction. Gathering myself, I climbed to my feet, but I would need a moment to recover.

    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going,¡± Evander called out, laughing, as they thundered down the stairs after me. He didn¡¯t miss the opportunity to shove me into the wall as he passed.

    The door crashed shut behind them.

    I swallowed the pain that still throbbed in my leg and straightened. My knee hurt when I put weight on it, but it held steady. A small price to pay for getting them to leave.

    Or so I thought until I tried the exit. The door refused to budge. I had resisted anger before, but it was hard to do so now. Taking in a deep breath, I put it out of my mind. Anger only made the sweltering air of the stairway even more suffocating. I expelled it all in a sigh and started my slow and painful ascent. I hoped Bren wouldn¡¯t mind standing while eating leftovers.

    A dose of painkillers and hours of twisting and turning was not enough to fall asleep. My muscles ached from a day of combat training, and my mind stubbornly refused to wind down.

    And my knee hurt.

    It hurt so much that I desperately needed to stretch my legs, so I picked up my boots and crept across the cold concrete floor. The door opened with its familiar creak, soft in the daytime, loud as thunder in the silence of the night. I froze. But the only answer to the loud metal screech was soft breathing and the occasional snore. Exhaling a breath of relief, I slipped out into the corridor.

    The courtyard between the dormitory buildings was empty. Guards patrolled the compound after curfew, but I didn¡¯t sense anyone nearby. The only things that moved were the dancing shadows of trees in the lamplight.

    Inhaling, I stretched out my back, my legs, enjoying the night¡¯s chill while it lasted. Midland days were hot and the nights far too short.

    But they were quiet.

    Telepathy let me convey meaning without words, making it easy to explain even the hardest of concepts, but it had its drawbacks. The persistent awareness of people¡¯s proximity and their mental agitation was a constant static at the back of my mind. It buzzed, scratched, scraped, and on bad days gave me a splitting headache.

    But the nights were quiet.

    Or at least they should be, but something had been gnawing at the edge of my consciousness for a while now. I stopped in the middle of the courtyard, studying the sensation. It was a soft tingle at the back of my neck, prickling when I tried to ignore it. I felt out again, sensing no one nearby, yet it persisted. Whatever it was, it was impossible to silence now that I was aware of it, so I followed the winding paths almost dreamlike, heading in an unknown direction.

    The military academy was a collection of grey buildings interspersed by stretches of grass and trees. A tall wall separated it from the city on one side, and endless farmland surrounded it on the other. Different sectors were spaced well apart, each forming its own enclave. I found myself crossing the paved path between the commissary and the library, an area that was a good deal away from the barracks.

    I hadn¡¯t seen any patrols, but I wasn¡¯t alone. Soft steps carried from around the library, so quiet that I had to strain to hear them. I hurried toward the corner to intercept. The dark figure took the turn a little too fast, bouncing back a step to avoid colliding into me.

    Two pale eyes stared up at me. It was a girl who I didn¡¯t recognise. She didn¡¯t look much older than me, and she barely reached my shoulder. She had a shabby leather jacket on that was a size too large. Its hood was up, covering her dark hair.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here,¡± I blurted out.

    There was something feline about the way she tilted her head, watching me. Her stare turned from startled to calculative. ¡°Neither are you,¡± she said in a low, melodic voice.

    She was trespassing, and I had to detain her. ¡°You need to leave,¡± I said instead.

    She didn¡¯t contradict me, slipping past and continuing down the path. A messenger bag was slung over her shoulder.

    I snapped out of my confusion. ¡°Wait!¡± I called after her. I should have at least searched her.

    She sped up, disappearing behind a corner, but it was easy to follow her by her tingling presence. She went straight, then took a left, keeping a distance between us no matter how fast I hobbled after her. I cut across the grass as she turned another corner. Around it was the perimeter wall. I looked left, right, and then up, scanning every shadow. She was gone, and her presence faded somewhere in the streets beyond.

    This section had no doors or breaches. I frowned. The only way out was to climb over, and considering her stature, it meant enhanced physical abilities.

    She was an elemental.

    I cursed under my breath just as the sound of heavy footsteps raced toward me. A sudden light blinded me.

    ¡°What are you doing out here, cadet?¡± a gruff voice said.

    It was a moment before I found my words. ¡°Couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± I replied, squinting at the light.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to leave the dorm.¡± The man lowered the flashlight.

    I reached out mentally, explaining the pain in my knee and the need for a walk.

    He assessed me, his eyes lingering on the bird logo on the front of my jacket that marked me as telepathic, and then the three stripes on my sleeve, one for each year in the academy. His own uniform displayed the bear badge of an intimidator.

    I swallowed. Hart was the kindest intimidator I¡¯d met, and he was plenty scary.

    The guard checked the area with a quick scan of his light and turned back to me, eyes narrowed.

    ¡°You better head back before I report you,¡± he said after a moment, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I turned on a heel and hobbled back toward the dorm.

 Chapter Two: Riza

    Riza

    ¡°And you just let her go?¡± Bren¡¯s voice rose over the clatter of dishes.

    I shushed him.

    He dipped his head and glanced around, but everyone was too busy with their breakfast to pay us any attention.

    ¡°Why were you out there so late anyway?¡± he asked in a lower voice.

    I prodded my mashed potatoes. ¡°Couldn¡¯t sleep.¡±

    And I¡¯d spent the rest of the night lying awake in bed, thinking over how stupid I¡¯d been. Any moment the alarm could sound, telling everyone of the break-in. I had not only violated curfew, but I was seen near the site. What excuses would I make when they brought me in for questioning?

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Bren continued carefully, ¡°so someone sneaked his girl in. It happens.¡±

    I had found her near the library, which was next to the records office. If she broke into either one of these, it couldn¡¯t mean anything good. But the commissary was right across the square too. I ran a hand through my short hair, ruffling it. Not every civilian trespassing on a military base was a thief, right?

    I shook my head. ¡°Too far from the dorms for a visit.¡±

    Bren shrugged. ¡°Remember that one time¡­¡± his gaze trailed to the back of the room.

    I gave him a look. Of course I remembered. It was all they talked about for a year. One time someone decided to fool around in the cafeteria. They got caught. We had trackers among the patrol and the girl was bad at concealing her presence. Punishment was swift. The student was publicly lashed and then assigned a month of labour without pay. The girl was arrested, questioned, and released after her family paid a hefty fine.

    But she wasn¡¯t an elemental¡­

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Bren asked.

    I let out a sigh and continued to play with the potatoes on my plate. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    How could I check if something was missing? Where would I even begin? What would I do if I found something?

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t get to pull that one on me.¡± Bren¡¯s mismatched brown eyes bore into me. ¡°Spill.¡±

    I blew out a breath. ¡°I think she may have been an unregistered.¡±

    He inhaled a sharp breath. ¡°You should¡¯ve led in with that.¡± His brows pinched in concern. ¡°Did you report it?¡± I shook my head, and he cursed. ¡°Kal, you know better.¡±

    I exhaled a frustrated breath. ¡°I know, I froze. And then she was gone.¡±

    His lips pressed into a line as he silently judged me.

    Elementals had to register, no exceptions. Anyone with a power that could affect their immediate surroundings and harm innocent people was a hazard. Concealing such powers was irresponsible. The Governance helped manage risk by issuing wristbands that tempered physical abilities.

    The girl from last night didn¡¯t have a registration band, and she couldn¡¯t have jumped or climbed the wall so fast with normal strength.

    ¡°Maybe she was acting out a dare,¡± I muttered.

    We had plenty of unsupervised youth in these parts, and they tended to get themselves into the stupidest of situations. That was the most frequent type of report we had to process and file.

    Bren cocked a brow. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject. She was unregistered.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know that for sure,¡± I muttered, resisting the urge to keep grinding my beans into mush.

    ¡°What if she took something? What if she was a saboteur? What if¡­¡± I tuned out as he listed every possibility and its consequence. I¡¯d already gone through all of them myself.

    She was young, so maybe her powers had just manifested.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t deserve what trespassers get,¡± I retorted, interrupting his ceaseless stream of speculations. And if she was unregistered¡­ ¡°They¡¯d make an example out of her.¡±

    Bren crossed his arms, but he didn¡¯t contradict me.

    ¡®Tell you what,¡¯ he said to me mentally. ¡®Forget it ever happened. If anyone asks, you spent the night sleeping.¡¯

    ¡®But¡­¡¯ It was my duty to report her, especially after that guard had seen me.

    ¡®You know how much trouble you¡¯ll get into,¡¯ he said, his eyes locking on mine. ¡®Even if she did nothing.¡¯

    How much damage could a girl her size do? We didn¡¯t have any sensitive information on-site, and all weaponry was behind metal doors on the opposite side of the compound. I rubbed my temples. The lack of sleep and ceaseless churning thoughts made my head pound.

    ¡°Man,¡± Bren chuckled after a moment, ¡°she must have been pretty. You do stupid things for a pretty face.¡±

    I crossed my arms. ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±

    He leaned back, watching me with an arched brow. ¡°No? What about what¡¯s-her-face, blondie? A few cute words and she had you running the field to exhaustion.¡±

    I pouted. ¡°That¡¯s different.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. You didn¡¯t even get anything out of it.¡± He watched me for a moment and then sighed. ¡°Your secret¡¯s safe with me, but next time you decide to take a night walk, keep me in the loop so I can beat some mental sense into you.¡±

    I nodded, finally taking a bite of my mashed potatoes.

    ¡°Speaking of beauties,¡± Bren lowered his voice, ¡°did you see the new girl?¡± He inclined his head toward the front of the cafeteria.

    The girl, who had just walked in, scanned the room and her brows creased in a frown. She gingerly picked up a tray and walked up to the food counter, where she fumbled with the food as she picked out her meal. I hadn¡¯t seen her before, and Bren was right, she was beautiful in that classical southern way ¡ª bronze skin, generous curves, soft features, hair the colour of wheat, and eyes like a clear sky. Even though someone had done a hatchet job to cut her hair short, it only emphasised her heart-shaped face.

    With her tray now full, she scanned the room again, and then meandered around in search of an empty table. She didn¡¯t greet anyone, nor made eye contact with the people who stared at her curiously. Definitely new.

    Bren abandoned his breakfast and circled around to sit on the bench next to me. It was the only way he could keep staring at her when she passed behind him and settled on the lone table by the wall.

    ¡°If you like her that much, why don¡¯t you introduce yourself?¡±

    He snapped out of his daydream, looking at me as if I was crazy. ¡°You don¡¯t just walk up to a girl like that.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°How else will you get to know her?¡±

    He stiffened. ¡°I¡¯ll meet her soon enough.¡±

    We worked in the Registrar¡¯s Office so orientation and question sessions were part of our job.

    ¡°Then stop ogling.¡± I scooped up another forkful, the food somewhat easing my headache.

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.??¡°Yes, you are, and it¡¯s not increasing your chances,¡± I said between bites.

    She was ignoring us now, but I saw the look she threw him as she passed.

    He smirked. ¡°Okay then, let me see you do it.¡±

    I rolled my eyes and got up. That wiped the smirk off his face. Despite his desperate attempts to call me back mentally, I made my way across the cafeteria.

    ¡°Whatever it is,¡± the girl said when I stopped by her table, ¡°not interested.¡± She didn¡¯t even bother to look from her food.

    Regardless, I sat down across from her. ¡°You must be used to turning heads,¡± I joked.

    She lifted her eyes and stabbed down her fork with enough force to rattle her plate. As a new recruit, she had likely experienced some of the welcome rituals already. First years had it the worst. It was a part of the process. The upperclassmen delighted in tormenting them, and so far it looked like she was keeping it together. Tough attitude was better than none. But if she really wanted to win, she had to make friends.

    I lifted my hands in surrender. ¡°No need for food violence, I just came to say hello.¡±

    Her glare didn¡¯t ease.

    ¡°You¡¯re new right?¡± I asked, keeping my tone light.

    She raised a brow. ¡°What gave that away?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m last year.¡± I pointed to my stripes, then put on my most serious face. ¡°I¡¯ll be straight with you. You probably get this a lot, but I think a few people including my friend over there,¡± I jabbed a thumb Bren¡¯s way, ¡°have developed a crush on you.¡± He was not as stereotypically southern as her, and his fair skin made his beet-red blush obvious across the distance.

    She blinked, momentary surprised. It quickly morphed into suspicion. ¡°If that¡¯s the case,¡± she sat back, regarding me coolly, ¡°why are you the one bothering me?¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Maybe I want to make a fool of myself so you¡¯ll lower your standards.¡±

    She stifled a laugh but her face lit up with amusement. It made her eyes a darker blue, deep water rather than sky.

    ¡°But enough kidding around,¡± I said. ¡°They don¡¯t give you a welcome package here, and it¡¯s kind of our responsibility to make sure new people can find their way around.¡± I paused, watching curiosity blossom on her face. ¡°I work at the Registrar¡¯s Office,¡± I explained, and her eyes lit up in recognition. ¡°They¡¯ll send you over for proper orientation in a few days, but since I saw you here, I thought I would give you the intro.¡± I went on, explaining what services and facilities were available, where she could find a map of the compound, where our office was and how to contact us.

    ¡°You should make some friends at your dorm,¡± I said. ¡°Banding together makes it easier to get the upperclassmen off your back.¡±

    She raised a brow. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that if I hadn¡¯t shown up alone, you wouldn¡¯t be here invading my space?¡± she said, but her eyes glinted with amusement.

    ¡°Probably not.¡±

    Her lips quirked into a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it then.¡±

    ¡°My friend noticed you first,¡± I gestured back to Bren, ¡°but he¡¯s a little shy.¡± She glanced at him, her earlier hostility fading. ¡°I¡¯ll help if you need to file any documentation. For all other enquiries, he¡¯s your guy,¡± I said, and she nodded. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll leave you to your meal.¡±

    She stood with me. ¡°See you around¡­ What did you say your name was?¡±

    I smiled back. ¡°You can call me Kal.¡± I shook her hand. ¡°And that back there is Bren. We¡¯re both in comms.¡± Her grip was firm but her skin was soft. She hadn¡¯t seen much combat training.

    ¡°Riza,¡± she said as she let go. ¡°Just started in the med corps.¡± She tucked a stray lock of blond hair behind an ear.

    That explained it. ¡°If you need anything, come over to the office. You can ask for me or Bren.¡± With a nod ¡®goodbye¡¯, I let her be.

    Riza saw me off with another smile, and I felt her gaze on my shoulder as I walked back to Bren.

    He threw up his hands when I settled down in his old spot. ¡°You¡¯re unbelievable.¡±

    I swapped our trays and continued my meal. ¡°It¡¯s not that hard. You just need to be polite.¡± With my appetite restored, the everyday menu of potatoes and beans in various forms had taken a new appeal.

    Bren groaned. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you do it.¡± He took a small bite of his bread. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be the charming one.¡± He chewed, pouting.

    Bren could put people in a better mood and make them more agreeable with whatever he was suggesting. As long as he was touching them anyway. In the spectrum of mental influences that wasn¡¯t exceptional, but most everyday situations didn¡¯t need more.

    I shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ve got a lot to learn from me.¡±

    He looked ready to smack me. Instead, he shook his head and turned back to his food. ¡°There¡¯s still time to pick another partner,¡± he muttered.

    I laughed. ¡°You¡¯re about two years late.¡±

    He looked up, smiling. ¡°I always knew you would be trouble.¡±

    I picked up my fork, brandishing it like a knife. ¡°And that is why you picked me.¡±

    We both laughed.

    Someone slammed into me from behind and I almost landed face-first in my food.

    ¡°I¡¯d watch who I associate with,¡± Evander said in a low voice, ¡°don¡¯t forget your place.¡±

    My grip on the fork tightened, but I didn¡¯t turn. Ignoring him usually made him lose interest. Yet he remained hovering.

    A hand landed on my shoulder. ¡°You hear what I said?¡±

    Bren glared at him from across the table. ¡°Back off.¡±

    The two of them quietly glared at each other for a moment, then Evander huffed and moved on.

    Bren met my eyes over the table once he was gone. ¡°You should give him a piece of your mind next time he bothers you,¡± he said for what must be the hundredth time. ¡°He backs off real fast after a good punch.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Like you would get into a fight.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my point.¡± Bren set his fork down. ¡°The threat alone is enough. I¡¯m not stupid enough to get into an actual fight with him.¡± He glanced over to where Evander had joined his groupies at their table. ¡°Not if I want to show my face in the Capital one day. But,¡± he leaned over the table, ¡°don¡¯t tell anyone, Evan is not the bravest fellow,¡± he said with a perfectly straight face, making me laugh. ¡°It¡¯s not hard to scare him off when he drifts too far away from his pack.¡± He glanced at the group at Evander¡¯s table again.

    I studied the bulky intimidators Evander kept around as pets. Easier said than done.

    ¡°He¡¯s still dangerous without an entourage.¡± I sipped from my cup. Brave or not, being able to both influence and intimidate made him formidable in a crowd.

    Bren gave me a look. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised what a few right words at the right moment can do.¡±

    I raised a brow. ¡°And where do your right words go when a certain pretty face shows up?¡±

    Bren stabbed his food with his fork, pouting. ¡°You¡¯re funny...¡±

 Chapter Three: Radegast

    Radegast

    Nowhere were spring festivals as extravagant as in Radegast.

    It wasn¡¯t just the year-long warm weather or the constant agricultural yield; they made a special effort to do things bigger, louder, and fuller each time. The city centre would be cordoned off and the streets would be lined with all kinds of stalls, tents, and stores. Each was decorated with plants, ribbons, and colourful regional banners made unique with family crests and hand-woven designs. The squares became stages for performances, and the alleys that were too small for merchant stands were used as promenades by the slowly streaming crowds.

    Artisans and traders from the entire province and beyond gathered to compete against the locals, bringing goods and performances not normally found in the area. For many, festivals were the only time of the year when they could travel and set up new business connections, so they put extra effort into their presentation.

    Each year I doubted they could outdo the previous event, yet every time they surprised me.

    When we made our way to the centre, we could hardly recognise the streets. Trees that I didn¡¯t remember being there had emerged overnight. Flower beds, rose bushes, and wreaths decorated each corner, and ribbons extended from one streetlight to the next, drowning out the whites and greys of most houses. Sometimes cloth hung in painted sheets from one roof to the other, providing shade and mimicking the Capital¡¯s famed covered markets. And despite the smouldering heat, the crowds were thicker than ever.

    The spring festival wasn¡¯t even as big as the winter ball, which itself was dwarfed by both summer and fall celebrations.

    We joined the crowd forming near one of the larger stages set up in front of Town Hall. On it, performers in exotic western garments played with fire, dancing, juggling, and blowing flames from their torches. They weren¡¯t real fireborn. Real ones were too dangerous to let near the public unrestrained. But the performers wielded the flames with enough mastery to fool most people. A rhythmic drum enhanced their dance routine, the music alone entrancing the crowds to gather, cheer, and applaud.

    It also distracted the rookies long enough for Bren to draw a breath. He had tried asking Riza out, but somehow ended up inviting her whole class along. And now he was paying for it. For many, this was their first time outside their hometown, or the first time seeing a festival as large as this one, so he had to keep a group of overly excited students from scattering into the crowd and likely getting lost.

    He did an excellent job, pointing out sights, telling stories, and answering questions from so many sides he couldn¡¯t even pause between sentences. I tried to help as much as I could, filling in whatever he missed and making sure everyone was in the loop, but maintaining the telepathic link for hours was draining. When the excitement of the crowd and the unrestrained heat finally got too much, I pulled back, seeking refuge under a nearby tree.

    For a while I watched people flow from one tent to the next, seemingly at random. A pattern started to emerge the more I looked at it ¡ª the thickest crowds always congregated around the brightest, loudest sites.

    A glass appeared before me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

    ¡°It¡¯s a hot day,¡± Riza said, holding out one of her drinks, ¡°I thought you might appreciate it.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, watching Bren help the rest of the group get food and refreshments from a passing cart.

    The drink was cold and fizzy and the heat was bearable for a moment. Riza sipped from her own glass, following my gaze to the group.

    ¡°It¡¯s a local staple,¡± I said, drawing her attention back to me, ¡°they make it out of old grain.¡±

    She smiled politely. ¡°So I¡¯ve heard.¡± She sipped her drink again, watching me over the glass. ¡°It was nice of Bren to take us out.¡±

    ¡°It can be hard when you don¡¯t know the place.¡±

    She cocked a brow. ¡°And you¡¯ve learned a lot during your stay here?¡±

    I took it as a challenge. ¡°I know the area is the largest wheat producer in the Governance.¡± Though we couldn¡¯t see it from here, I instinctively glanced in the direction of the lake. ¡°And that someone had the poor idea of building a fort at the edge of a lake.¡±

    Radegast, the province, was a large agricultural area in the centre of the Governance. It was mostly flat, with few peaks hardly taller than a hill, and many rivers crisscrossing the land like spiderwebs.

    Radegast, the city, had two parts ¡ª an old town sprouting from the remnants of the ancient fortification by the lake, and a newer residential district that had grown into the fields beyond. The latter was the bulk of the modern city, evolving into an industrial district that flowed over the hills, and eventually concluded with the military base. Bundled farms dotted the land beyond, growing fields of crops in every shape and form. Once Radegast had been the largest fortification in the area, providing protection and infrastructure to the agricultural lands in the province. Now half of the old city, including most of the stone wall, was in the lake, and its monumental entrance arch, which was still the tallest structure in the area, overhung the shoreline.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t always near the lake,¡± Riza said.

    I glanced at her quizzically.

    ¡°They call it the moving city,¡± she continued, ¡°something to do with the soil, because of groundwater and rainfall. We don¡¯t have as many forests anymore, so rivers and lakes appear and disappear. They move over time and slowly swallow up land, farms, even whole cities. The flat terrain doesn¡¯t help but the soil left behind is usually richer. That¡¯s why we are the largest wheat, fruit, and vegetable producer,¡± she said, a matter-of-fact, and finished her drink in a swallow. ¡°Radegast used to be in the middle of a field, not beside a lake.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.??So much for enlightening her on the area, or Bren giving her a tour of the city.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to assume,¡± she spoke after a moment, ¡°but you don¡¯t seem to be from around here.¡±

    I chuckled. ¡°What gave that away?¡±

    She eyed my long-sleeved shirt.

    I shook my head, smiling. ¡°East coast.¡±

    ¡°Lower or upper.¡±

    ¡°Tule.¡± I downed my drink. Far enough up the coast to hit the marshlands, but not cold enough to snow. Also close enough to the riots at the north border to affect the economy but too far for them to spread, so no one bothered doing anything about it.

    Riza nodded. ¡°So you¡¯re from up north.¡± She eyed my clothes again, a daring smile shaping on her lips. ¡°Afraid of a little sunburn?¡±

    She wore loose beige linen pants and a similar short-sleeved blouse herself. Just like the people in the crowd, only less colourful. But she didn¡¯t need colour.

    I feigned offence. ¡°Not all of us are born to bask in the sun.¡±

    Riza laughed, gaze growing distant. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen the ocean,¡± she confessed. ¡°But I¡¯ve heard it can be both beautiful and terrifying.¡±

    I¡¯d never thought about it that way. The ocean was just the ocean, though it did have its moods.

    ¡°On a calm day, the surface is like a mirror,¡± I began, ¡°the water is white near the shore, but it turns deeper and deeper blue toward the horizon. Weather can be unpredictable even in summer and, in a matter of hours, a perfectly calm sea can turn churning.¡± I paused. Her big blue eyes were boring into me, entrancing me to continue. ¡°It¡¯s ugliest in winter. You might not get sun for days and the sea is dark and stormy, and it eats up most of the shoreline.¡± She shuddered, so I added with a smile, ¡°It¡¯s not nearly as bad as the west coast. The ocean currents keep the summers cool and winters warm, and through most of the year the sea is as calm as your lake.¡± Yet so unlike the stale stillness of summer on the plains.

    She nodded. ¡°I¡¯d like to see it one day.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get the chance.¡± If there was one certain way to earn a travel permit, it was through the army. Depending on rank they even offered resort destinations for vacation.

    ¡°And what brought you here?¡± Riza asked.

    I raised a brow. ¡°It is the largest academy.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°I mean the army.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°It goes in my family.¡±

    She peeked up at me through locks of blond hair. ¡°You never wanted to do anything different?¡± She brushed them away and tucked them behind an ear.

    ¡°My parents are in the army, and their parents, so we didn¡¯t have much of a choice on the matter.¡±

    ¡°Us? As in siblings?¡±

    ¡°My brother just started service school. And my sister was¡­¡± I stopped myself. I had said too much already and the last thing I wanted today was to think about Kayla.

    ¡°Was?¡± Riza prompted.

    I kept my gaze fixed on the performance. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    An awkward silence stretched between us, louder than the buzz of the crowd. ¡°My parents are farmers,¡± Riza¡¯s voice broke through it. And then she fell silent as if waiting for me to ask.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t follow in the family profession?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°Army pays better. Better job security too,¡± she said. ¡°Besides, my grandma was a nurse, and I¡¯ve always wanted to be a doctor.¡±

    And getting into one of the Capital universities wasn¡¯t easy without a patron. When I¡¯d asked Bren the same question a few years ago, he¡¯d looked me straight in the eyes and said: ¡°The money, duh.¡± But you didn¡¯t get paid as a student, so I¡¯d helped him get hired at the Registrar¡¯s Office. That way he could support his family in the meantime. They owned a few properties along the seashore, but that meant little when you couldn¡¯t afford to get the permit and make the trip.

    With the expansion of the state farms, it got harder and harder to make a living as an independent farmer. Although he never went into details, his family¡¯s financial state wasn¡¯t the best. One time they had almost lost their farm and permits. Since then they¡¯ve found some stability, but no one knew how long it would last.

    ¡°Besides,¡± Riza added after a moment. ¡°My granddad was in the army and he still had a few contacts.¡±

    I nodded at Bren. ¡°You two have a lot in common.¡±

    She eyed me, then Bren and the cadets, who¡¯d somehow made it near the stage. ¡°I suppose.¡±

    The fire performance concluded, the dancers bowed and then disappeared in the shade of the backstage. As soon as they were gone, the recruits descended upon Bren again, the force of their enquiries buzzing from across the street.

    ¡°You know a lot about the city,¡± I said to Riza. ¡°You should probably go save him.¡±

    She smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll be stealing your job.¡±

    ¡°I need a break.¡± I tapped my forehead where a headache was already forming.

    She laughed, handed me her empty glass, and headed to where our group was peeling away from the crowd. As I deposited the glasses back at the seller¡¯s cart, I felt an annoying itch at the back of my mind, like sparks flickering across my skin. At first, I thought I had overexerted my telepathy, but that didn¡¯t explain the vague feeling of familiarity that overwhelmed me. I furrowed my brows.

    It was the same sensation as that night.

 One - Jaxon Blau

    Part One

    Jaxon Blau

    Jaxon Blau was not a nice man. He got quiet when unhappy, red when angry, and spiteful when given power. And someone had allowed him a lot of power.

    Blau was in the midst of a meal when he received me. He sat at a wide table illuminated by the large fireplace behind him. The lights were dim, the flames casting sharp shadows across the room.

    It was the middle of summer. In the south.

    His table was arranged beautifully ¡ª a number of appetisers, several main courses, homemade breads, and deserts all displayed in quality porcelain. The food was enough to feed an army.

    He didn¡¯t offer me any. He didn¡¯t even invite me to sit, letting me stand by the door and wait for him to receive me. His two hulking bodyguards flanked me ¡ª an earthborn and an intimidator. One could snap me like a twig, and the other could project a terror so intense it was paralysing. What a lovely pair.

    Blau¡¯s inappropriate reception wasn¡¯t due to the fact that I¡¯d appeared without a warning. I¡¯d given him enough notice to anticipate my arrival. And it wasn¡¯t the hour, as he had set it himself. But I bit my teeth and straightened my spine, patiently waiting for him to be done with his display of authority because it was late and I wanted to get this job over with as few incidents as possible.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the usual contact,¡± Blau said, chewing. He paused, making a show of looking me over. ¡°Where¡¯s¡­¡± he pointed to his face. ¡°Tattoo?¡± He proceeded to tear apart a small bread and toss the pieces into his stew.

    Zee had better things to do than deal with greasy crime bosses, even if they owned a third of Radegast¡¯s farmland. Which didn¡¯t make me feel any better about this assignment. I briefly eyed the fireplace, then turned back to Blau. ¡°He is otherwise occupied,¡± I replied, keeping my voice monotone. ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shame,¡± he smacked his lips, interrupting me.

    ¡°I bring a message, and a request,¡± I continued, keeping the irritation out of my voice.

    When I reached into my bag to get the letter, only the intimidator flinched, relaxing when he saw no threat. Though the earthborn looked mean, he was too slow to react. Blau must have gotten him cheaply.

    I moved for the table and the intimidator grabbed my arm. Every fibre in my body tensed, ready to spring, but I held myself back, resisting the urge to show him exactly where he could stuff his hands. This one was loyal, and he was alert. I tried to grasp for the reason of his dedication but his life was too dull and monotonous to spark a vision into relevant events.

    Blau nodded, but the guard held on a few seconds longer, squeezing in warning before finally letting go. I filed it all down under personal insults.

    I walked around the large table and came to stand beside Blau¡¯s chair. He too was an intimidator, but his true strength lay in his ability to resist mental influence.

    ¡°Your reputation has been declining in recent years,¡± I spoke.

    He huffed, gaze locked on his meal. But he was no longer eating.

    Declining put it softly. Blau had never concerned himself with proper working conditions or the state of his equipment, as long as things got done and he didn¡¯t need to spend extra resources. A few decades ago he had started with a shiny new set-up and an eager workforce. He provided jobs for those who couldn¡¯t get hired, guards for those who did not need them, and a rather profitable network to store and transport illicit goods across the province.

    Today, half of his machines were an accident waiting to happen and he was bleeding workers in torrents, but his network was stronger than ever. He had grown too big to be allowed to fail.

    ¡°The work you do for your community is valued,¡± I recited the carefully crafted words, ¡°and we¡¯re concerned about the future success of your business.¡± I pinned him with a stare when he glanced up at me. ¡°We¡¯re willing to provide the support needed to straighten up your record and restore your reputation.¡±

    Silence. His beady eyes were trained on me, waiting with disinterest.

    ¡°I specialise in information control,¡± I continued. ¡°I can help quash some of the rumours regarding your workforce and I can get you in touch with the right people regarding new farming techniques.¡±

    A half smile played on his lips, and I resisted the urge to frown at the cocky confidence drifting to the surface of his mood. He didn¡¯t think it was a problem. I disagreed. Having your employees drop dead of exhaustion or die in accidents on the field was not a good way to lead a business. Acquiring more land by sending earthborn thugs to ransack potential plots was even worse. If he was to keep his network going in the future, he needed a good front.

    ¡°Were you aware that the military has launched an investigation into your holdings?¡± I said.

    He blinked, momentarily surprised, and then recovered with a smirk. ¡°The military¡¯s always¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mithra military.¡±

    His meaty face creased in a harsh frown. ¡°What does the Capital want from me?¡±

    I replied with a tight smile. ¡°That tidbit is for free. What you do with it depends on you. Anything further, standard rates apply.¡±

    The military didn¡¯t care about him. It cared about his network. And so did we.

    I placed the letter in front of him. ¡°My benefactor has kindly provided a few words of advice,¡± I glanced at the letter and then back at him.

    Saying nothing, Blau rose from his chair and snatched the white envelope. I stayed in my spot as he walked past me and across the room. He examined the label in the flickering firelight, turning the letter over and over. His air was pensive as he seemed to consider. Briefly. Without opening it, he threw the letter into the fire and I watched the paper shrivel up and turn black, unread ink bleeding into the flames.

    ¡°Next time,¡± Blau said, ¡°tell them to send an adult if they want to do business.¡±

    I kept a straight face as much as I wanted to frown.

    Longevity had its perks ¡ª youthful appearance, knowledge, experience. Being taken seriously by narrow-minded peasants was not one of them. I didn¡¯t respond, I didn¡¯t react. Blau did not believe in consequences and he did not fear the bite of the military, but he would learn soon enough. Arrogance flavoured with foolish certainty never led far.

    He waved at his guards and they reacted faster than their large frames seemed to allow, zipping around the table and toward me. The intimidator¡¯s hands clamped around my shoulders as he shoved me for the door. I fought hard against the instinct to jab my elbow backward, turn and slam my knee into his gut.

    ¡°I¡¯m not finished,¡± I protested but Blau dismissed me with another flick of his hand.

    The intimidator squeezed, his energy lashing at me. It tickled my consciousness like a ripple in an ocean, instantly absorbed in its waves. Pitiful. Fear, concern, compliance, I couldn¡¯t even tell what he was trying to project, only that he was annoyed.

    I dug my feet, grinding us to a halt. ¡°I suggest you let go,¡± I said calmly.

    He just shoved me toward the door again.

    I¡¯d had enough. Twisting, I slipped from his hold, circled around, and brought him to the ground with a well-placed kick behind the knees. At this height it was a child¡¯s play to kick him in the head and knock him out cold.

    Injury repaid.

    Blau and the earthborn gaped at me, but their shock didn¡¯t last. The large guard barrelled toward me and I merely stepped out of the way. He was slow but relentless, correcting course and grabbing for me again.

    I eyed his wrists. No blocker. If he caught me, it was the end. The world slowed down as my senses sharpened and my body kicked into a familiar rhythm. I danced out of the way when he tackled me, helping him to the ground with a light shove. He fell hard enough to rattle the dishes on Blau¡¯s table.

    But earthborn, with their strength and resilience, were not as easy to knock out as mentalists. I¡¯d have to lure him into using his abilities stupidly, tire him out, and deliver the final blow when he was exhausted and not paying attention. We¡¯d probably break furniture, knock down a few walls in the process, and make a mighty mess, hopefully without bringing the entire roof down.

    No, this house was Gayle¡¯s legacy, and I wouldn¡¯t be the one to ruin it. The earthborn was a guard dog, what I needed was for his master to call him off.

    I leapt over the table, snatching a set of cheese knives on my way to Blau. The earthborn was already back on his feet. I threw the knife, aiming at the big boss. The bodyguard¡¯s footsteps shook the floor as he circled the table. The knife didn¡¯t have the right shape for throwing so I helped it reach its mark with a light air current. Smooth as butter, it embedded itself in the wooden accent of the fireplace behind Blau. The earthborn froze when I raised the second knife, aiming at Blau again.

    ¡°However fast he is,¡± I said to Blau, ¡°I¡¯m faster.¡± His lips parted to bark a command, but I spoke first, ¡°And I never miss.¡±

    My fingers itched on the handle. I¡¯d known that talking to him was pointless. Blau would not change, he was a victim of his success and as long as he believed he would continue being successful he had no reason to step in line. He hardly ever listened to Zee. What chance would I, a complete stranger, have? But removing him wasn¡¯t a solution either. I stilled my fingers. His disappearance would cause a vacuum I didn¡¯t want to deal with. If the message didn¡¯t work, I had to find other ways to convince him. But before that there was something else that I needed from him.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.I held his gaze and waited for his next move. He considered briefly before signalling the earthborn to stay put.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked, his anger controlled but prickly.

    ¡°There¡¯s a boy working for you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have many boys working for me.¡±

    ¡°His name is Reuben.¡± The one to whom he owed this house.

    Blau considered, eyes drifting to a shadowy corner as he flipped through his memories.

    This house wasn¡¯t rightfully his. It had been Gayle¡¯s once, and now her son worked for the man who¡¯d stolen it from her. Did he even remember? Or was Gayle¡¯s name lost among the many he¡¯d robbed or destroyed.

    The estate wasn¡¯t the largest, but it was the sturdiest and perhaps the prettiest. Built on an elevated hill, the house was unlikely to flood in a land that suffered from spontaneous marshes. The hard stone foundation alone would make it last decades longer than its neighbours. Blau used it as a summer retreat and occasionally as a meeting spot for his deals.

    He stroked his chin as if he didn¡¯t know what I was talking about. I threw the second knife, grazing the spot he was touching and his fingers. He staggered and, before he or his guard dog could react, I crossed the rest of the distance, pulled the knife out of the woodwork, and pressed it against his thick neck.

    ¡°You will pay out his wages, add a good bonus for hard work, and send him on his way,¡± I said slowly so he could understand. ¡°No strings attached, no more meddling into his life.¡±

    I waited for him to nod before retracting the blade enough to let him breathe.

    ¡°As for the rest, you can either clean up your game or you can fall. Personally, I don¡¯t care, I¡¯m just here to deliver a message.¡±

    I did care though. If he had listened it would mean less work for me, and I was already on a tight schedule. He tried to say something, reconsidering when my blade bit into his skin.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think of playing dirty,¡± I added. ¡°You¡¯ll find me quite difficult to get rid of if you anger me.¡±

    Blau kept most of his roofless workers in barns scattered across his vast properties. That way he could claim they were squatters if a surprise military raid hit. Or he could report them himself and give the army a chance to prove its efficiency in controlling illegals at some strategic time, in exchange for them looking away from his dealings for a while.

    ¡°Why the boy?¡± Blau asked as we approached the moonlit barn.

    ¡°It¡¯s a job,¡± I lied. ¡°One that pays.¡± I added.

    If there was one thing Blau believed in, it was money. His brows knitted in thought and I continued forward, letting him chase shadows and motivations.

    The truth was that I had promised a dead woman she would see her children again. She wouldn¡¯t. The least I could do was check in on them and make sure they were on the right path. Gayle had done me a service and I never forgot paybacks.

    ¡°I¡¯d watch out if I were you,¡± Blau said as he unlocked the side door.

    I smiled as sweetly as I could. ¡°Excellent advice.¡±

    I snatched the satchel of money from him before making my way into the dark.

    The smell of human and cattle was so intermixed inside that I couldn¡¯t tell one from the other. But I had watched the boy long enough to recognise his energy easily, so I weaved through the murky darkness, avoiding sleeping animals and humans alike, in search of my targets.

    The two children huddled in a small space between bales of hay. I shook the boy awake. He cracked an eye open to look at me, then at the moonlight streaming through the worn boards.

    ¡°It¡¯s too dark to shape the land,¡± he muttered, turning around and drifting back to sleep.

    I shook him again. ¡°Wake up, Reuben.¡±

    He started upon hearing his name, sitting up and glancing around.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, voice alert.

    ¡°A friend.¡±

    He shrank back, but he wasn¡¯t trying to get away. He was shielding his sister. Tabea had woken before him, I¡¯d heard it in her breathing, and was now staring at me through the dark.

    ¡°You¡¯re too quiet,¡± she said in a small voice as the touch of her awareness tried to grasp onto me. The probing was delicate, unintrusive, but all the same nosy. And that mental touch was unmistakable ¡ª an empath. Not an easy ability to grow up with if no training was provided.

    ¡°You¡¯re just not listening carefully enough,¡± I replied, and relaxed the hold on my energy a fraction. Not enough to reveal my presence, but sufficiently to let her sense my intentions.

    She peered at me for a little longer, before squeezing her brother¡¯s shoulder and making him relax. How naive. I was good enough to fake it, and it wasn¡¯t hard for others to do so too. I¡¯d have a talk with her later, but now the most important part was getting out.

    I squinted when we walked back out into moonlight, expecting ambush even if I sensed no one near. But Blau and his men were nowhere in sight. Good riddance, though I knew that this wasn¡¯t the last I would see of him. Still, he was not stupid enough to chance a confrontation so soon. For now he would retreat, learn more, maybe even get higher class thugs, and then he would be back. Blau was not the kind of man to forgive an injury.

    The children hesitated at the door, round eyes peering at me, sizing me up. In the moonlight they looked small and scared, and for once I was happy my outward appearance wasn¡¯t immediately intimidating. Still, I forced my expression to soften. No point frowning at them.

    Reuben eyed me, the barn, and then the fields, dark gaze dancing in every direction. Hesitation, concern, fear, it all swirled around him.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to stay here anymore,¡± I said, guessing at his thoughts.

    He turned to me. ¡°If I don¡¯t work I won¡¯t get paid.¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t getting paid now.¡± The food scraps and housing generously provided by Blau could hardly be called payment. But I didn¡¯t rush him, letting the two of them weigh their options in silence.

    Both were so thin that I wondered where they found the energy to stand, let alone work. They were only two of the endless stream of workers Blau churned through. I should have slit his throat when I had the chance, but my personal involvement only went so far and there was a greater picture. Tabea and Reuben had lucked out because I happened to owe their mother. Most of the others would continue to suffer so countless more could live. Far too many things depended on this network to chance disrupting it over pointless ideals.

    The boy continued staring at me. His dark gaze and thick brow were so unlike Gayle¡¯s that he must have taken after his father. But Tabea was a mirror image of her mother ¡ª the same light brown hair that curled at the ends, the same hazel eyes. She had been five when Gayle was arrested, that would put her at fourteen now. And though the siblings appeared similar in age, Reuben was¡­ a degree older than Tabea.

    ¡°Who sent you?¡± he asked, straight to the point. I was starting to like this kid. The answer to that question, however, was problematic. If I told him it had been Gayle, he¡¯d have questions that shouldn¡¯t be answered at the moment.

    ¡°Your aunt,¡± I said instead.

    His brows knitted in confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t have an aunt.¡±

    ¡°You do now.¡± Temporarily anyway. I¡¯d been at this job for a while now, which meant a lot of people owed me favours. It wasn¡¯t hard to find a good family to look after the children until they got back on their feet. A good family with an understanding of Reuben¡¯s particular talents and the ability to help him develop in the right direction.

    I tossed the satchel with his wages at him. He lurched to catch it, nearly dropped it, then fumbled with the straps to open it. The children inspected it, eyes rounding as they looked to me, then to the bag again.

    ¡°Your wages.¡± A few years¡¯ worth of legitimate government bills. Blau hadn¡¯t bothered paying them very well. Even with the bonus, if all they bought were necessities, it wouldn¡¯t last long.

    Reuben nodded, eyes drifting to the ground for a moment, then held it back out for me.

    ¡°We don¡¯t need an aunt. We need our parents.¡±

    I let out a frustrated sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t do reunions.¡±

    ¡°What do you do then?¡±

    ¡°I trade information.¡±

    He continued hovering the bag. ¡°Information then.¡±

    I rubbed my temple. Get in, get them out, set them on their way. That was the plan. So why was it getting complicated?

    I waved off his money. ¡°One thing at a time,¡± I said because it was the only thing that I could say to make him move. ¡°First, let¡¯s go meet your aunt.¡±

    A frown tugged at his lips, and though he nodded an agreement the spark in his eyes didn¡¯t change. I wasn¡¯t getting out of this easily. I sighed again. Give someone a finger, they would take the arm.

    Hand in hand, the children followed me away from the barn. Reuben¡¯s gaze was locked forward, but I could feel his attention on me. Not a total fool. His sister, too, now peered at me suspiciously. Probably because I had concealed my energy again, or maybe because she had woken up enough to realise that trusting strangers was dangerous.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Tabea asked.

    ¡°You can call me Nia.¡±

 Two - Mop Up

    Mop Up

    Something was tapping in the distance, like large bullets of rain falling against glass. The low, resonating clang slowly pulled me from my sleep.

    ¡°I hate that bird,¡± Oceanna¡¯s voice drifted from across the room.

    ¡°What bird?¡± I asked, my mind still hazy with sleep.

    ¡°That bird.¡±

    I cracked an eye open. A large raven sat outside the window, sporadically tapping the glass with his beak. I sat up, the sudden movement making my head sway. Oceanna glared at the bird from her bed, but made no attempt to let him in. Even as I staggered off the couch and strolled for the window, Soot continued to beat against the glass, relentless in his pursuit to come inside.

    Oceanna threw off her covers and swung her feet to the floor. ¡°If you let that thing in again, I swear-¡±

    She dove right back under the blankets when I unlatched the window. Soot pushed in, doing a half circle around the room before he realised it wasn¡¯t meant for his large wings. He landed on the kitchen table, scratching at the surface as he skidded to a halt, then stared at me sideways with one yellow, beady eye.

    I glared right back. One month. That¡¯s how long I had been waiting for an answer. I stalked toward him, gaze intent on the message on his foot. He cawed a complaint but didn¡¯t peck me when I grabbed him. He knew he wouldn¡¯t get fed if he did.

    Oceanna emerged from her refuge, sea-green eyes shifting between me and Soot. I unfastened the small metal cylinder and slid out the parchment. Oceanna¡¯s soft footsteps approached, halting when Soot let out a loud screech. He was suspicious of anyone whose mind he couldn¡¯t read. I shushed him, then carefully unrolled the paper.

    I stifled a frown when I read the message.

    Getting Jaxon Blau arrested had not been the best thing to do. It was, in fact, the worst thing to do, but I didn¡¯t expect to have to deal with the consequences. After all, I¡¯d done my job and gotten him to stop his misdealing. Even if it hadn¡¯t happened as initially planned. But with him gone, his network and smuggling operation were up in the air.

    Oceanna peeked over my shoulder, trying to look at the paper while keeping me between her and the bird. ¡°What does it say?¡±

    I rolled the message back into the small tube. ¡°I need to follow up on something.¡±

    Oceanna¡¯s face scrunched up into a scowl. ¡°You promised,¡± she hissed, arms folding over her chest. ¡°No more jobs. You¡¯re supposed to be helping me¡ª¡±

    I silenced her with a stare. I may have promised to help her, but I didn¡¯t work for her. Besides, Oceanna¡¯s request was not the easiest to fulfil even without her short temper sabotaging us both, and she knew it.

    ¡°How long?¡± she demanded.

    I smoothed Soot¡¯s feathers. The bird cawed a demand to be fed. ¡°As long as it takes.¡±

    She stalked away, threw on her fatigues and was out the door faster than a morning drill call. The loud crash made Soot shoot up in the air again, half hopping, half gliding across the room.

    One month ago I had written up my report, detailing everything that had happened in Radegast. My warning, Blau¡¯s response, the escalation, and eventual breakdown. He was not fit to lead and his presence did more harm than good. I¡¯d listed all known parties and businesses that would be affected by his removal, too. And of course, I¡¯d kept a few facts out: no, I hadn¡¯t used my abilities; I wasn¡¯t involved in the labour dispute, which was technically true; and in no way had I put myself in a compromising and possibly incriminating position. After the last few disasters I¡¯d stumbled into, I expected anything from critique to threats of being sent away to the farthest corners of the continent.

    Instead, I got a single sentence:

    Deal with it.

    I toyed with the little paper, rolling it, and unrolling it.

    Cleanup was not my speciality. Well, not the kind of cleanup she would like. That was her talent and I¡¯d hoped she would take care of it.

    The message was written in the familiar neat writing ¡ª big curvy letters in the middle of the page, thicker than usual. And the period looked like it had almost punched through the paper. Deal with it.

    Like I had time to travel the province, go through the list and investigate which businesses deserved to sink and which had to be preserved. I turned the note round, folded it, unfolded it, turned it again, hoping that miraculously an ¡°I¡¯ll¡± would appear on the page. But no, it still read the same: Deal with it.

    I cursed, drawing Soot¡¯s attention. He stared at me across the table for a moment and then continued pecking at his bowl of canned fruit.

    Oceanna was growing impatient, getting into all sorts of trouble while I was busy with nonsense. Last time I was supposed to be gone for a month. The mission had taken a year. I still wasn¡¯t done hearing about it. At least she hadn¡¯t gotten herself suspended by yelling or punching a superior officer. We both knew I wouldn¡¯t bail her out a third time. Even if there was any viable place left to relocate her to.

    I picked up the pen, but I had doused it in too much ink because the first sheet of semi-transparent paper turned blue.

    I crumpled the note and reached for another.

    Not my problem.

    Scratch.

    I don¡¯t have time for¡ª

    Scratch.

    You should have thought of that before¡ª

    Scratch again.

    Last time I checked, guild business was no longer my concern.

    Scratch. Double scratch. Triple scratch. The paper tore.

    No, there was no getting out of this. I had conscripted Zee to help me with the Nereid problem, leaving myself as the only agent open for jobs in the south. As pressing as this mission was, Oceanna would have to wait.

    I dipped the pen in ink again.

    If I have to deal with smugglers,

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.can I at least get my knives back?

    It would make things easier¡ª

    Scratch. Tear. Crumple.

    I dug fingers into my hair. Why did this have to be so difficult? Back in the days, any problem could be solved with the blade. You would go in, do the job, you would get out, no more problems. But that was no longer the case. It hadn¡¯t been for a long time. And this was not my territory, so if I wanted to stay I would have to play by her rules.

    Exhaling my air into a growl, I picked up the pen a third time.

    I¡¯m on it.

    Even as I wrote it, I knew I couldn¡¯t afford another disaster. That one more ¡®incident¡¯ and I was ¡®out¡¯. That¡¯s what she¡¯d said. Of course, she¡¯s said that before Oasis as well, but even she had to agree that Oasis was not my fault.

    Oceanna returned a while after I¡¯d sent Soot away. She brought in the thick scent of cold and salt with her, her long blond hair drenched dark with sea water and her eyes still blazing. They swept over me before she disappeared behind the bathroom door, slamming the door hard enough to make dust drift down from the ceiling.

    I stared out of her high-rise apartment window. The small houses in the distance still wrapped up in darkness wouldn¡¯t stay so for long. A thin line of light formed on the horizon, framing the dark cliffs of the bay and spotting the islands among the waves. Another day, another job. With the new light, the trains would start going again and I wanted to get on with things as soon as possible.

    ¡°You know better than to swim at night, alone,¡± I said when Oceanna came out again. The currents got erratic and her control of water was not good enough to save her if she got caught in one.

    She snorted, heading around the table and setting up her makeup products to start the day. Even if she refused to admit it, it was a problem. She¡¯d been too far from the sea for too long and her water abilities reflected it. But I let it drop because it never ended well. Some people just didn¡¯t want to accept the truth.

    The sun was a blazing globe above the waterline when Oceanna approached me again, pausing for a moment to look at the sunrise. Her wild hair was pulled back in a neat braid so that you couldn¡¯t even tell it was naturally frizzy, but it was the dark green woollen skirt-suit and the stylish brown heels that made the look come together. With her makeup and well-ironed uniform she looked like a whole new person ¡ª no longer the ruffian I knew her to be, but a respectable career woman.

    Despite her complaints, setting her up in a desk job had been the right thing to do. Especially the position of clerk in the office of the captain of the Nereid squad who was right under the rear admiral. It kept her close enough to action to be relevant, but far enough from the field to avoid any further¡­ incidents.

    The decision hadn¡¯t come out of nowhere. A long time ago, before Oasis had gone to hell, and before she had gotten herself jailed on murder charges, she had been a filing clerk. Her weak water abilities left her little else to do in a military-governed, dry desert town. She¡¯d slipped back into that skin in less than a year. And it suited her.

    ¡°When are you leaving?¡± she asked after a moment.

    ¡°As soon as possible.¡± I kept my eyes on her reflection in the glass.

    She frowned, the static of her energy becoming agitated. Displeasure tinged with fear. Sighing, I turned to her, taking a moment to admire how well she had taken care of every detail ¡ª from the perfectly shaped tan lipstick down to her polished nails. Even with her short temper she was far more professional than any of the dimwits they brought in these days.

    ¡°What?¡± she demanded in the familiar rough voice.

    ¡°It looks good on you,¡± I replied, nodding at her uniform.

    She blinked, probably not expecting that answer. Her frown smoothed over into polite restraint. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    I turned back to the window. No, she wasn¡¯t a lost cause, but it would help if she opened up and told me what she wanted instead of quietly simmering behind her frowns.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got test drills soon,¡± she said vaguely. But it was as close as she would get.

    I reached out my hand and she gingerly took it.

    Energy was a finicky thing. It was everywhere, and it connected everything. Yet it could be slippery and elusive to most. Some were better at pulling it from their environment and using it immediately. Others had to slowly siphon, transform, and store it over time. Regardless of the source, elementals used it to influence their surroundings, and mentalists fine-tuned it to affect or read the people around them. But it didn¡¯t matter what affinities someone had or how well they could control their powers if they couldn¡¯t maintain a pool of their own. The weak nature of Oceanna¡¯s elemental traits didn¡¯t come from her inability to control water. It was rather due to a very low, very slowly regenerating pool. She could expand it with time, but with her late start it would take years.

    I didn¡¯t have that problem. If anything, I had an excess that I couldn¡¯t use up in most normal situations. Reading and manipulating energy itself came naturally for me. I could tune my own energy to match Oceanna¡¯s and channel over in minutes what she would take weeks to accumulate naturally.

    Oceanna withdrew her hand, rubbing off the numbness that she always complained the transfer gave her. It wasn¡¯t the transfer, it was her body that wasn¡¯t used to holding that much. Used sparingly it could last her a few weeks. But it wasn¡¯t power that she truly wanted, it was reassurance.

    ¡°How am I supposed to know if something happens? Or call for you if I need you?¡± she asked.

    I whistled and a large shadow swooped down from the rooftop. Moonlight¡¯s pale feathers glinted in the dawn¡¯s light as he circled around, looking for a place to land. Since I didn¡¯t have my glove on, he settled on the ledge and eyed me expectantly. I climbed off the sill and cracked the window open. The large owl let out a series of hoots and screeches, mostly questioning why I had summoned him without treats or purpose.

    I didn¡¯t like using Moon here. His distinct white-grey feathering made him stand out in the south, and by the seaside it screamed ¡®messenger bird¡¯. But he was the only one who wouldn¡¯t bite Oceanna or try to claw her eyes out if she crossed him. Moon was also very self-sufficient and didn¡¯t require treats and bribes to behave.

    I nodded at the bird. ¡°Let him loose if you need anything. Leave out treats once or twice a week. He likes lean meat. Raw, not canned.¡±

    She eyed him suspiciously, lips pulling into a familiar frown.

    ¡°He¡¯ll know how to find me,¡± I clarified. ¡°And he¡¯ll know if something is wrong.¡±

    Her suspicion didn¡¯t ease, eyes shifting between me and the bird. I smoothed his feathers to calm him and mentally conveyed the command to keep an eye on Oceanna. Moonlight squeaked his accord, but nibbled at my fingers to show his hesitation. I understood his concern. Oceanna radiated discontent so strong it would make even the least sensitive mentalist twitchy.

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to be happy if you keep hating on him,¡± I scolded.

    Moonlight was a little empathic, and he got touchy when he felt unappreciated.

    She uncrossed her arms. ¡°He stays out of my way, I try not to think about it too hard.¡±

    Dismissing him with a wave, I latched the window closed.

 Three - The Bookkeeper

    The Bookkeeper

    The small warehouse smelled of dust, wood, and stale paper. Salty sea air drifted in from the loading docks, the dampness adding a note of well-aged mould. It was the kind of dull but persistent smell that no amount of washing would get out of my clothes for a while.

    The warehouse also bustled with activity. People and machines scurried to move boxes from one side to the other ¡ª from the waiting trains at the railroad to the docked ships, and then back again. I wrinkled my nose. Damp wasn¡¯t enough, it had to be noisy and crowded as well.

    But I ignored the overall unpleasantness and kept pace with the inspection group. Work paused as we passed, people turning to look at the uniformed men at my side. Lieutenant Alexio swept the workers with a glance and suppressed a smile. Work resumed, quiet whispers and hidden stares aimed our way as we marched on to the walled-off office area across.

    Antilla was the largest commercial harbour on the east coast. It served as a distribution point for trading guilds, rally point for naval military deployment, and a connection point to the Isles. A network of channels, rivers, and railroads concluded here, bringing in traffic from all over the continent.

    It was an open secret that, despite also being the largest military harbour in the Governance, Antilla was the centre for most smuggling operations, and Blau¡¯s arrest had given the army the perfect excuse to crack down on criminal activity and take over a few key legitimate businesses in the process.

    Alexio was remarkably young for the position he held. He was also the son of some official or other. His inexperience made him easy to sway toward certain decisions and at the same time expendable enough to blame if anything went wrong. He was probably quite aware of the first part but I had a feeling that he was deluded enough to overlook the second. His youthful ignorance also made him easy to read and prevented him from noticing details that could otherwise help his personal goals. Which worked quite well in my favour.

    He scanned the space with a disdainful look once more. ¡°What do you think?¡± he asked me, unwilling or incapable of erasing that damn smirk off his lips.

    I kept my face blank. ¡°Too early to tell.¡±

    A soft frown marred his previous condescending cheerfulness. I had to thread carefully. He¡¯d already tried to prematurely shut down both shipment companies we¡¯d visited this morning. I¡¯d stopped him once, argued the other case, and overriding him a third time was risky. Especially when he had a list of recommendations from his superior to follow and a quota of businesses to take over.

    The trading guilds were perhaps the only institution that maintained a degree of independence from the army. The military had been pining for a stronger foothold for decades, and with Blau¡¯s fall it was finally time to take that step.

    That¡¯s where I came in.

    Some would fall, there was no escaping it, but I had to subtly divert the military¡¯s pick. I needed to steer them toward business that appeared flashy but didn¡¯t hold much importance. They couldn¡¯t be allowed to disturb the illicit routes that maintained supplies to the Nereids whenever the Governance tried to starve them into submission on one decision or another.

    And so, the shabby warehouse we were currently inspecting had to remain independent.

    Operated by Rita & Co, it was a small shipping business that mainly dealt with transportation of textiles. Despite the ¡®Co¡¯ label it was run by a single woman ¡ª Rita. She had inherited it a few years ago from a patron who had taken a fancy to her. In the grand scheme of trading guilds she was a small fish, but she had a very important role in the smuggling world ¡ª she was a Bookkeeper. She was someone who made sure that when contraband shipments reached their destinations everything looked legitimate to accountants and anyone else who might take an interest. With her own shipping business to back her up, it made it easy to launder goods. She was also rumoured to be stunningly clever although with a nasty temper, which made her dangerous and kept most low criminals away.

    We were halfway to the offices when a tall blond woman made to intercept us. She wore the latest fashion ¡ª soft turtleneck sweater and trendy suit, flats instead of heels, and silk gloves for no particular reason. For someone who¡¯d never been to the Capital she knew how to carry herself with importance. If I had to guess, that was Rita herself.

    In no hurry, she strolled up the long central stretch of the warehouse, shoulders back and gaze locked on our group. Alexio paused, meeting her halfway with a cocky smile. She responded with one of her own as her grey eyes swept over us, lingering on him. She catalogued it all, his shiny new shoes, his uniform ¡ª a soft looking wool-cotton blend rather than the usual rough fabric ¡ª and his expensive watch. He did the same, sizing her up like a lion would a gazelle. This would not be an easy fight.

    The two exchanged pleasantries. Alexio didn¡¯t introduce me to her, and Rita didn¡¯t ask. He ordered his two guards to remain behind with a jerk of his hand, and bid me to follow with another. I didn¡¯t miss the spark of mental activity that passed between him and his men. A telepath giving orders to two trackers in the middle of an operation did not bode well.

    Rita didn¡¯t spare me a second glance as we moved on. Few people did, and that was the goal. Her mood was steady as we made our way to her office, without a hint of concern or stir of mental agitation. She was in her element here. Familiar environment, common situation. She knew how to carry herself around mentalists, but she was not perfect. Every now and then her energy would flare up, betraying her elemental nature. Lucky for her I was the only one to notice, else Alexio would have been calling for a hit squad by now. But if she wanted to keep blending in, she would have to reign in her blazing aura.

    Her office was a small, dusty space where the scent of old paper and cold dampness seemed to aggregate. As soon as we entered, Alexio deposited himself on the lone, tattered chair in front of the similarly old, scratched-up desk, and casually started jabbing questions and demands at her. He asked for the worker manifesto, the shipping logs, the accounting records¡­ and at some point I thought he was throwing words he¡¯d overheard just to see which one would stick. Rita nodded to each request with a polite smile plastered on her face, but the increasing bite of her energy betrayed her. The woman hated being bossed around, and it was only her intense focus on suppressing her instinctive reaction that stopped her from calling him out.

    It was probably that same strain, which prevented her from realising that most of the documents he asked for he didn¡¯t have the authority to request, and that she could easily dismiss him. Even file a complaint, if only she had bothered bringing in legal witnesses. She did neither. Excelling at illicit dealings didn¡¯t necessarily teach one how to use the real law to one¡¯s advantage. Instead, she calmly walked around her desk, a small storm flashing through her energy, sat down, and began passing him papers.

    In reality, all Alexio was entitled to were the shipping logs and the partner list. Yet he asked for every little business note without regards to whether he could actually read it. Not that he took the time to even flip through them. Once he had a thick stack of folders and books in his hands, he held them over his shoulder for me. While it was technically my job to help him sort paperwork, I had to suppress the urge to smack him with the pack. Calmly, I set my bag on top of a dusty file cabinet and the books onto another.

    If he¡¯d had any experience in these kinds of investigations he¡¯d know that it would take weeks to research and confirm the legitimacy of all the documents. If he had any experience in the army he would also know she had just handed him a loaded gun by providing the accounting book without a warrant. I couldn¡¯t tell if Rita was a special kind of stupid or an excellent manipulator.

    I quickly scanned through the pages of the accounting book, while keeping an eye on the two of them at the same time.

    ¡°So,¡± Alexio began, ¡°you¡¯ve run this business long?¡± He swept the dusty office with a glance before settling his green gaze on her. Although his voice was kind, the slight upturn of his nose made his disgust obvious. This place was not up to his standards.

    Rita sat back, arms crossing. I sucked in a breath. Bad move. She was going on the defence.

    ¡°Long enough,¡± she hummed a reply.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.??Alexio¡¯s eyes narrowed a fraction. ¡°Family business?¡±

    ¡°In a way.¡±

    ¡°Please elaborate.¡±

    I tuned them out and focused on the numbers, because a few things did not sit right. I scanned one recent page over and over, cataloguing discrepancies. It was simple things, calculations not adding up here, locations not matching there. At a first glance it looked like a sloppy cover-up, but knowing her reputation that was unlikely. Her handing it over with so much confidence also didn¡¯t make sense if the document was incriminating. The only conclusion I could draw was that she didn¡¯t know about it and was being set-up.

    The office veered into silence. I glanced at Alexio, meeting his eyes. The look he threw me was all smug, like he knew what I would find.

    I didn¡¯t like that one bit.

    Someone was trying to destroy her business and he knew about it.

    ¡°I bet you meet a lot of interesting people,¡± he turned his attention back to Rita. She wasn¡¯t exactly glowering, but the mismatch between her burning eyes and her cold porcelain smile was as close as she could safely get to that. ¡°Capital, southern provinces, even the west coast. That¡¯s a lot of clients for such a small operation,¡± he made sure to sweep the office with a glance again, this time letting a note of revulsion creep into his voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know about the west coast,¡± he continued, ¡°but the southern provinces must be nice. Have you had the chance to travel there?¡±

    Of course she hadn¡¯t. Travel permits weren¡¯t exactly given out like candy. Even to those in the trade and transportation business.

    She shook her head, her stormy gaze sharp on him. ¡°Haven¡¯t had the pleasure. Yet.¡±

    ¡°No?¡± he said in mock disappointment, ¡°most of your suppliers are based there, aren¡¯t they? How do you manage a business without ever meeting them in person?¡±

    ¡°We correspond in writing.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡± This time he feigned surprise. ¡°You must talk often to coordinate this well.¡±

    A now familiar flare sparked in Rita¡¯s energy, mirrored by the lamplight reflected in her pale eyes. She was going to meet his challenge straight, and I needed to stop this conversation before she said something incriminating.

    ¡°There¡¯s an error in your files,¡± I spoke, snapping the thread of their conversation.

    Two faces turned my way, one smug, one curious.

    ¡°Error?¡± Rita¡¯s voice cracked just a little.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I crossed the small room and set the shipping records book in front of her. ¡°This shipment was mislabelled.¡± I pointed to one recent entry marked as coming from Blau. It was a common tactic smugglers used ¡ª swapping less legitimate suppliers for well-known ones. Yet she didn¡¯t know that Blau was no longer in business.

    She looked at the page, then at me, brow creasing in confusion. Alexio¡¯s smugness somehow managed to go up a notch.

    Blau¡¯s operation had been shut down a few months prior and anyone still claiming to receive goods from him would face serious investigation. While the military had kept it on the down-low, I was surprised the news hadn¡¯t reached her. These kinds of networks had a way of spreading information. Her not hearing about it meant somebody had gone out of their way to blindside her before the investigation.

    ¡°I¡¯m fairly sure¡ª¡±

    The look I gave her should have been all the warning she needed. ¡°Because I checked in with customs and I¡¯m fairly sure it¡¯s mislabelled.¡± I set another paper in front of her. It bore the seal of a customs agent and listed a ¡®corrected¡¯ shipment. Instead of Blau¡¯s it was another legitimate business I knew to still be operational. How fortunate for her that I always came prepared with proper blanks I could fill when no one was looking.

    Her eyes narrowed a fraction. ¡°Who are you again?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s your assistant?¡± I pressed on. ¡°You should clear it up with whoever filed this.¡±

    There was no assistant, and she did her own filing work. But she was smart enough to use a different name when signing the ledgers, giving me a chance to spin this and give her plausible deniability.

    Her face lit up with realisation, then shadowed with suspicion.

    ¡°She¡¯s on vacation.¡±

    ¡°Clearly.¡±

    Her lips formed a line, her mood spiking. She wasn¡¯t as good at acting as she thought. Her anger was mounting quickly and reacting badly would only make her situation worse.

    I tapped the paper. ¡°You should correct this,¡± I said before she could speak. ¡°And there will be a fee, of course¡­ For misfiling.¡± I held her gaze, hoping my warning would get to her this time.

    Rita smiled tightly. By the feel of it, she wanted nothing more than to punch someone.

    Disengaging eye contact, I turned to Alexio. He nodded at my statement, but the smirk was gone from his face because it wasn¡¯t going as he had planned. The brief exchange gave Rita a chance to read the paper I had given her.

    ¡°My, my,¡± she said, her earlier anger dissipating, ¡°perhaps I should hire you as my record keeper.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t afford me.¡± The words just slipped. Exactly the wrong words. Her gaze sharpened. Now she was interested. ¡°Do you screen your workers before hiring them?¡± I shifted topics.

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    I gave her another pointed look.

    ¡°My overseer does it.¡±

    ¡°Do you hire elementals?¡±

    ¡°Only registered.¡±

    I hummed. Not true. And if she thought her workers were as subtle as her, she was in for a nasty surprise. Else Alexio wouldn¡¯t have left his trackers behind to screen them.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need the employee files.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s confidential,¡± she replied without missing a beat.

    Good answer.

    I glanced at Alexio and he shook his head to confirm we couldn¡¯t press this. His mood had darkened before, but it was now a gathering storm.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen everything I need,¡± I announced to him, keeping my eyes on Rita. ¡°I¡¯ll need copies of these.¡± I pointed to the shipment logs. ¡°We will come back for the employee files later,¡± I couldn¡¯t stress that word enough. It was a good thing that anyone listening could chalk up the emphasis to a Capital accent.

    Rita rose to her full height, took the shipment log from me to copy, and retreated out of her office without another word. If she were as smart as people claimed she would know to order her less legal workers as far away as possible for the near future.

    ¡°What about accounting?¡± Alexio asked when she left.

    The accounting records were perhaps the most incriminating thing in her documentation. The rest I could cover for if confronted, but the blatant errors in taxation¡­ not exactly.

    I gave him my best dumbfound face. ¡°What about it?¡±

    Not believing me, he reached for the old worn book Rita had foolishly left behind. He cracked it open and quickly flipped through the pages, which confirmed to me that he knew exactly where to look and what to expect. His forehead creased with a frown when the book didn¡¯t tell him what he wanted. But it told me something very important ¡ª this would be a battle, and they weren¡¯t afraid to play dirty.

    Alexio shoved away the records, the confusion badly concealed on his face. The book was truly old and worn, with loose pages and no distinguishing characteristics. It wasn¡¯t accidental. In less legitimate circles ledgers were supposed to be easy to switch. Had he taken the time to read it before throwing it at me, he would have known if I¡¯d swapped something out ¡ª be it a single page or the entire thing. His inexperience could indeed be useful. I just had to make sure he didn¡¯t get himself dismissed based on incompetence.

    When we walked out a moment later, I could swear that the small warehouse was a little less crowded.