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Chapter 56 - Hostage negotiation

As he watched Cenorth drag Arebella out of the receiving chamber and into the hallway beyond, time froze for Lowe.

He was not sure what he had expected the Commander of Soar's Security Services to do once his role in misleading Hel's squad had been exposed, but this casual, violent slaughter complete with hostages certainly wasn't it. Lowe had banked on having enough firepower in the room to keep any such shenanigans under control. But he'd fumbled it.

Fucking Cenorth.

No, be fair. Fucking Jana Lowe. As if a Level 45 was simply going to put his hands up, cop to all manner of misdeeds and then come along quietly. The bodies of Markian Ulton and the two headless were testament to Lowe's spectacular misjudgment of the situation.

And now the bastard had Arebella.

Mechanically, shaking himself free from his stasis, Lowe charged after the pair, aware that Cenorth was flinging out all sorts of deadly, high-level Skills as he made good his escape.

"Fuck's sake, little man, take some cover!" Latham shouted, tackling him to the ground just as something metallic and fast-moving slashed through the space he had been about to enter. The aura of Cenorth's assaults had the sort of grim finality about them that suggested Roll with the Punches would likely have come up pretty short.

"You want to tell me what the fuck is going on here!" The bodily picked Lowe up and bundled him forward until they were pressed either side of the door leading towards the Third Floor Portal Stones. "Isn't this twat supposed to be on our side?"

Lowe looked back at the devastation Cenorth had wrought in d'Avec's former chamber. Apart from Markian and the two dead from Cuckoo House - that he hadn't recognised either of them didn't improve the weight of guilt that was settling in Lowe's stomach - those who had gathered at his insistence had taken an absolute pounding in the wake of the escape.

Penarth was leaning over the , Verahalim, pumping some manner of healing Skill into a spectacular chest wound. For a moment, Lowe found something incongruous about a being able to treat living patients, but then he realised he had bigger problems to ponder.

Ortel, despite missing an arm, had conjured up several Healing Totems, which were doing their best to mitigate some of the damage that Charl, Irek and Tenia were sporting. The had obviously tried to tank the worst of what Cenorth had flung out, but even so, the other two looked like someone had stuck them in a mangle and got cranking. And the two priests of Gravalk – Aintra and Hiwalk – looked like shit, but neither seemed like they would be joining their ex-mistress in the afterlife in the imminent future.

The room stank of blood, mana and failure. Mostly failure.

Then, three shapes crashed against the wall next to Lowe. "I'm going to fucking kill him," Hel hissed, her sisters - free of their bulky clothing - screaming their agreement. Lowe did his best to keep his eyes off the writhing, sinuous forms of the two .

That way, literal madness lay.

"I've turned off the Portal Stone, so the bastard's going nowhere," Latham chuntered, "but unless anyone gives me an update as to what the fuck is happening, I'm going to switch it back on and go for my tea break. This has been a fucking shitshow."

Lowe tried to still his racing heart. He didn't know if it was better that Cenorth's escape route was blocked or not. The man still had Arebella, after all, but then again, he wasn't getting her back without Latham's help—time to spill.

"Okay, so this is how I figure it went down . . . "

*

"Shut the fuck up!"

Cenorth viciously shook the small woman he had by the hair while trying, unsuccessfully, to get the Portal Stone to activate.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Of course, he'd long planned out his steps if it all went to shit, but you never woke up and thought, 'Today's the day my life changes forever', did you?

He cursed as Arebella reached back and clawed at his arms, her nails digging into his skin. Cenorth released his grip on her hair and span her round to face him, squeezing her face between his hand as he lifted her a foot off the ground. "Listen, I'm having a bad day. Believe me when I say that if you keep this up, I will kill you. Now, tell me. Is what I'm saying the truth?"

Wide-eyed, she nodded back.

"Good." He spun her back around, trying to hide as much of his body behind her as possible. No one had yet come through the door at the other end of the corridor, but he doubted he'd wiped everyone in there with a few panicked strikes. He'd never been that lucky. Witness this fucking Portal Stone malfunctioning at just the wrong moment.

Fucking hell.

What made this shambles worse was that it had all been working like a dream. He hadn't believed it when Arebella and Lowe had appeared at his office door this morning outlining their fucking ridiculous plan to beard Arkola in their own den under the eyes of Leoto Bright! Cenorth couldn't have predicted that outcome even in his wildest fever dreams. Of course he'd given them all the information they needed to go down that particular road to destruction. It was such good news, it almost made up for Lowe slapping a fucking Red Notice on Markian Ulton.

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Almost.

The whole point in reactivating Jana Lowe to investigate the death of Gianna d'Avec was that no one - literally no one - wanted that case solved. It had been a running sore for Cenorth that his foolproof plan to remove the High Priestess - frame her for the slaughter of the families of an infamously effective Out of Bounds Squad - had never come to fruition. Those who ensured a steady stream of gold into his account had expressed their disappointment at her continued existence, but it hadn't been deemed a . . . fatal failure. He understood that Gravalk having access to the Second Floor might have changed that, but . . . well, with her death, he hadn't had to worry about that any more, did he?

But then someone had actually managed to off her, and no one wanted anyone looking too hard at who had ripped that fucking bitch apart. But it would have looked suspect if they hadn't at least done a cursory investigation, and that's where Jana bloody Lowe came in.

Cenorth had argued to keep him alive after the shambles that led to his loss of Class last year for precisely this reason.

Sometimes, you need a useful idiot. Just in case.

The plan had formed in his head the moment he caught wind of the murder. Even as the body was cooling, Cenorth had lured one of those fucking the thought she'd kept so carefully hidden to the Temple, nicked one of their gloves and left it somewhere even Lowe couldn't miss. He'd been looking at her head hanging from the chandelier as he activated the Sending Stone to wake the Classless man.

And it had, largely, gone as he'd expected. Right up to the moment, it hadn't. Cenorth still wasn't sure what had happened to have had Lowe pivot to suspecting him rather than revealing the existence of the glove, but that was water under the bridge. For now, he needed to get out of here and then out of Soar.

And for that, he needed the Portal Stone to work.

"Okay," he said, pressing his mouth against Arebella's ear, "let's see how motivated your boyfriend is to negotiate."

*

Hel's fury ramped up as Lowe explained to Latham just how much of a colossal fool she had been.

At no stage had she ever questioned the veracity of what Commander Cenorth had told her about Gianna d'Avec's involvement in the death of her parents. He had been so manifestly conflicted about sharing the 'highly confidential' Council report with her. Hel had needed to work so hard - and over so long - to convince him it was the right thing to do. And he had been so horrified about the contents when he'd shared them with her.

It had never entered her head for a moment that he was playing her.

But that was always the case with the best of cons. The mark never even knew they were in a game. Cenorth had tried to use them to kill the High Priestess for him. For 'them'. Whatever. It didn't matter. She was going to kill them all.

Latham was nodding along to Lowe's explanation of the series of events that led them to be standing at the wrong end of a corridor, surrounded by casualties. The big man was keeping his face studiously neutral, but Hel could feel his judgement of her naivete.

Dammit, she was judging herself just as hard.

Latham's face had the bland indifference of a professional hearing how badly someone he had thought competent had fucked up.

"Are you sure he can't escape?" she asked, trying to focus on the matter at hand.

Latham shook his head. "No chance. Since the High Priestess's murder, this Floor has been effectively on lockdown. Even if he had previously had access, and we can obviously assume he did, it'll be locked for him now. Chance's are, he'll have realised that by now. He's going to need someone to open it for him.

"And we're not going to do that, are we?"

Lowe and Latham's grim expressions were the only answer she needed.

"Hello? Is there anyone in there still alive?" Cenorth's voice echoed down the corridor.

Lowe peeked his head around the doorframe, and Hel summoned an Air Shield to drift in front of his face. She wasn't sure it would do much if a truly wanted to blow a hole in Lowe's head, but it would give him a fighting chance to at least duck.

"Sorry, are we not supposed to be okay, boss? Because that was some weak-ass shit you threw out there. I have to say I'm a bit disappointed: I always thought you had more game than that. The stories the boys tell about your performance in the field made me think you were quite the baller. "

"Tell that to Markian!" Cenorth snapped back.

"Tell him yourself, mate. Although he's pretty pissed off with you at the moment, so he might not be too receptive to a chat. I've got to tell you, we're hearing about all sorts of mischief the two of you have got up to together over the years."

Cenorth blinked at that.

He couldn't see how Ulton could possibly have survived a Sword of Justice cleaving through his head. But, then again, were famously hardy . . . Shit! Had he left that man alive? Those he worked for would not find that acceptable. Particularly with a Red Notice running and Cenorth no longer in place to 'lose' the data being gleaned . . .

He needed to clean that up if he wanted them to help him vanish.

"Tell you what," he said, keeping his voice level. "I'm feeling generous. Why don't I make you a deal? You send Markian out and switch this Portal Stone back on, and I will let you have the delightful Ms Telut in, more or less, one piece. I can't say fairer than that, can I?"

"I don't know, boss. Ulton seems pretty unhappy with that idea. He appears to think you might kill him as soon as look at him. Not sure any of us back here want that on our conscience, to tell the truth."

"Well, I think you need to ask yourself this, Jana. Are you so committed to the pursuit of peace, justice and the Soar way that you are willing to have me throw chunks of Arebella back to you until you agree? Because that seems pretty pointless. Unlike my knife."

The voice boomed in reply. "Commander Cenorth, as you will be requiring me to open the Portal for you, I might suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head. Mr Lowe might be manipulatable with threats, but trust me, carving my initials into your colon feels much more attractive to me than letting you go. And you can ask Arebella to fact-check that for you."

Cenorth summoned a knife into his hand and ran it down Arebella's arm, causing blood to spurt to the floor. The tried to stifle her gasp, but Cenorth slashed again and again until she finally screamed.

"How long do we wish to continue this charade? Or, more importantly, how long do you wish me to continue to hurt Arebella? I like the girl, so this is pissing me off even more. Ironically, the only person I have to take it out on is her. Which is putting me in somewhat of a rage loop. But you can make this problem disappear: send Markian out and switch the stone back on. I haven't got anything else to add."

Silence greeted his ultimatum.