Sam was only a few months old the last time Jace saw him — he’d barely said his first words, let alone walking. Jace hadn’t laid eyes on him since the day the Magistrate arrested him after his last heist, when Ishanti held him as the guards pulled him down outside.
And yet, here he was in, in fifth grade by now.
Jace crouched down to the boy’s level. “Your mom’s alright. Do you remember me?”
Sam studied him, pinching his cute little eyebrows as he did. But, Ishanti stepped to the side, blocking Jace’s view with her leg.
“Sam, I’m okay. Go save a spot for me in that line. I’ll catch up with you,” she said, pointing to the same train Gnarl’s wife entered.
Jace rose to his feet. “Does he? I mean, I can’t pull this down right now, because I need to cover my face, but — hey, you’re going to Ionat too, right?”
Ishanti crossed her arms.
“That’s perfect, honey.” Jace’s throat tightened, and he fought back tears. “It’s been too long. I missed you.”
She set her jaw, glaring up at him.
“What? Is something wrong? Do I smell? Sorry, the only showers they gave me were a spray with a hose. I know it’s not—”
The moment he tried to pull her into a hug, Ishanti placed a palm on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Jace’s heart skipped a beat. She pushed him a step away, but before he could voice his confusion, the fury in her eyes silenced anything that could come to mind.
“We aren’t together.”
Those three words made the world spin. The orderly chaos of the train station faded from Jace’s attention, taking the whistles of trains and the roar of tracks along with it, leaving only silence.
“What?”
“They’ve been talking about what you did on the radio. I should tell them you’re here right now. You got a lot of nerve showing up like nothing happened. You're the most wanted man in the Magistrate — and now you’re on some crusade for ‘immortality?!” she spat, whispering with scorn. “Don’t try to speak to my son like none of this happened. We. Aren’t. Together.”
Jace’s mouth couldn’t form words on its own. He leaned on his Talent for a crutch, searching Ishanti’s Nature. He could see her true kind and caring personality, wrapped in a feisty temper and an aloof air. It was all familiar to him; it only confirmed exactly what he fell in love with. But, right now, it all hid inside of a layer of fury, and his Talent’s only answer was disappointing.
“[Speech 39/100] Immortality’s only a myth. I broke out for you.”
“Ishanti, I only broke out for your sake — you were all I thought of!” He peered over his shoulder, where Gnarl casually stood against the wall near the entrance, watching intently. “The Immortality thing was a lie. I only used it to convince the executioner not to kill me, but I did it for you.”
“For me? For my sake? Why not for Sam’s sake? You should’ve stayed out of the game for our sake ten years ago. You would’ve never been in this mess if you didn’t lie to me.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Sorry isn’t going to bring back the last ten years of his life. You promised me we’d have a future,” Ishanti said. “But then you made me raise him alone. And now, after I spent this long working the shirt off of my back to give him a normal life, now you want to show up and ruin that?”
“I’m sorry, baby, you’re right, but please. At least let me speak to him.”
“No. You had your chance to be a father ten years ago. Leave us alone, Jace — for our sake.”
His eyes fell to her hands. He remembered them as soft and fragile, but they were now tough, with callouses on her knuckles and a burn mark on her wrist. She had to take a factory job in his absence.
Jace searched his Talent for something, anything with even a chance of changing her mind.
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“[Speech 39/100]
“I’m sorry, Ishanti. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. But, I love you,” Jace said.
Ishanti raised her chin, turning away. “I loved you.”
The high-pitched whistle of a train cut through the numb silence of Jace’s world, as Sam waved to Ishanti from the door of the train.
“Mommy, the train’s about to leave!” Sam shouted.
Isnahti looked Jace up and down before pacing away, and Jace fell to his knees as she stepped onto the train and the steam-powered doors hissed before closing. The train left for Ionat, taking Gnarl’s wife, his daughter, and Jace’s heart with it, leaving him numb.
He did it for her.
And yet, she was completely right; he missed ten years of the boy’s life. He’d lied to her about being out of the game. How stupid could he be to think he could waltz right in and have a happy ending after that? She had to work in the factories because of him, for God’s sake. The factories hired anyone, because only the most financially desperate would put themselves through that torture. He would only wish it on his worst enemy, yet he’d forced his greatest love to do the same.
The Magistrate did it to her.
They took him away. They arrested him. They wouldn’t listen when he told them everything he knew, tried to report on where the rest of his crew were, where their safehouses were. Yet, when all their searches turned up blank, the blame fell solely on him. He was tried alone for attempting to steal the Emperor’s Infinicore, a source of infinite power, and sentenced to death.
But he didn’t work alone. He didn’t source the weapons, or time their attack, hold the Emperor hostage, or work from within to get the guards away from his palace. Jace had never killed anyone in his entire career, but now, the other four members of his crew were at the top of his hit list.
Ishanti left him numb. By the time Gnarl rushed down from the entrance and helped him to his feet, though, he was left with only rage.
“Jace? My family is safe, correct? Who was that woman?”
“That was my ex-wife. And yes, they got on the train just fine, but my wife made something very clear to me.”
“We need to leave immediately, but elaborate. What did she say?”
“[Speech 35]
Jace clenched his fists. “The Divine and his son, Stoach, sent me here because the secret to Immortality lies in the Magistrate Emperor’s Infinicore. Rebellion is our only hope in getting our hands on it, fueled by all the Orcs oppressed by the Magistrate and mankind itself.” He looked over his shoulder, watching as the train to Ionat disappeared in the forest past that. “My wife only helped convince me that the true strength for our rebellion will lie in the Orcs.”
“Level up! Master Speech is now Level 40.”
Gnarl nodded. “I understand. Then, you have my help. What is our next move?”
“To gather strength,” Jace said. “We’ll need numbers, others loyal to the cause like me and you. So, if we find some of the other Orcs that escaped, we can take them with us to find a safehouse in neutral territory outside the Magistrate. Then we can plan from there.”
Another train pulled into the station in place of the train Ishanti left on, and people piled out, filling the platform in the middle. Jace recognized one face amidst the rest, a man barely younger than him with blonde hair and a scar that ran over his eye into his hairline.
Tony "Steamshot" Giovanni.
The one who funded the heist, ten years ago.
“And here’s our shot. Follow me, Gnarl, and keep looking intimidating,” Jace said.
Jace moved through the crowd with the finesse of a trained dancer, holding his facemask tight as he slipped between people and let his cloak pass them by. But, Gnarl moved through it like a tank, relying more on people to naturally move out of his way.
Jace approached Tony from behind and shouldered past his guards, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. His guards moved like lightning, and he felt the barrels of their guns press against the back of his ribs. Tony flinched, too, but the color drained from his face when he met Jace’s eyes.
“Jace? Jace, you’re…you survived?”
Tony wasn’t in the field that night; he’d stayed at base with the real brains of their operation. Did he know they betrayed Jace? Did he have a part in leaving him for dead?
It didn’t matter. If anyone knew about the Orc prisoners that had escaped and the Orc guards that betrayed their posts, it would be the man with his fingers in every pie: Mr. Giovanni himself, the head of the mafia.
“Your Dad knows some things about the Orcs that escaped today. How about you get me an audience with him?”
“Uh…I don’t know, man.” Tony nodded slightly, and his bodyguards pulled their guns away from Jace’s ribs. “My father’s a busy man, man. I couldn’t get you to him on such short notice.”
As soon as Tony finished speaking, Jace’s Talent screamed like an alarm. The description page said he’d be able to detect logical fallacies; that must’ve been the lie detection. He searched his Talent for an appropriate answer to break through the lie.
“[Speech 40]
“Too busy for me? Aw, well, I guess that’s fine. It must be equally fine for my Orc friend here to crack your skull in front of all those people, and for me to shout you out as the mob at the same time. Would that be fine, too?”
Tony tensed. A wary glance past Jace made him look right in Gnarl’s piercing red eyes, and he shivered. “Okay, okay, we don’t gotta get drastic. Come on. My limo’s outside.”
“Level up! Master Speech is now Level 41.”