Chapter 30: A Terrible Plan

“Fortune favors the bald.”

-Chicken, Local madman, date unknown

“What about the Shiccuen District Public School?” Stephan asked, pointing to a name on the list in front of him.

“Ew, no,” Yin said. She balanced her chair on two legs, arms crossed. “Have you seen the public schools in Tumba? Most of them are just a hovel with fifty kids crammed inside.”

“Okay, fair.” He crossed out half-a-dozen names with a pencil. “Then, what about… the Accro Zaman Memorial School? It’s owned by the Outlaw Clan, but I’m sure I could pull some strings and get you enrolled.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s an all-lubbard school?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s funded by the gang, not directly owned by it. Besides, non-lubbards are allowed into the Outlaw Clan fine, it’s just more uncommon.”

Yin blew out a raspberry and stared into the ceiling. “I meannn… It doesn’t sound so bad, I guess? I’d need to swing by the place and see what it’s like.”

“Great.” Stephan circled the name on the paper with a triumphant flourish. “I’ll see if I can arrange a tour for us.”

“Look at you, Dad. Pulling strings and calling on favors. You’re like a little gang boss already.”

“You make that sound like a compliment.”

“It is a compliment. All this crime business makes you seem way cooler than you actually are.”

Stephan smiled and ruffled his daughter’s hair, nearly causing her to topple over. “Thanks, sweet pea,” he said. “Now, we’ll need to make sure this school has adequate staff and facilities for you. You’ve missed out on a good bit of schooling, so you might need extra—”

Yin slammed back down on all four chair legs. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I know you’re not. You’re a sharp young lady. But there are gaps in your academic knowledge that need to be filled before you can catch up with the others. Mathematics, history, language, and so on.”

“Language?” Yin wrinkled her nose at that. “The hell do I need that for? I already speak Elandran.”

“Well, if you learn a bit of Attean, I could take you out east someday. The LIS, maybe even the Concord. Despite what you might think about it, it’s a rather beautiful place.”

“Homesick?”

“A little. Sometimes.”

“I heard you got some kind of plan, though. For taking down the Concordians.”

“So?”

“So, how does that work? How can you miss the Concord, but have no problem killing Concordians?”

“They’re invaders. It’s different.”

Yin shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not my business anymore.” She grinned. “I’ll let you grownups worry about it.”

Stephan smiled. “There’s a smart thought.”

“Just don’t let the Concordians turn us all into slaves or something.”

“The Concord doesn’t keep slaves. You’re thinking of the Ashlands. A prime reason why you should study history.”

Yin rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Concord. Ashlands. Elandra. They’re all the same.”

Amaline came over from the bar, having finished cleaning all the glassware. She hugged Yin from behind, so tight the girl’s face went from green to purple, and planted kisses on her head.

“I can’t believe you’re back!” she chirped. “I was worried sick about you, silly girl.”

Yin swatted her away with a breathy hiss. “I’ve been back for days, lady. Get over it.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Amaline snuck in one last kiss on the cheek, leaving a pink lipstick mark. Yin rubbed furiously at it with the edge of her sleeve.

The pink-haired woman turned to Stephan, becoming somber. “I’ve sorted everything for opening tonight. You wanted me to hold down the fort, right?”

“That’s right,” Stephan said with a nod. “I’ve got some important business to take care of.” He folded up the list of schools and tucked it in a pocket.

“That plan of yours, right?” Amaline bit her plump lower lip, forehead creased with worry. “It sounds awfully dangerous, boss.”

“What’s this plan you’ve cooked up?” Yin asked. “It’s time you spill the beans, Dad.”

“I’ll be meeting with the Barandi Crew,” he said. “What’s left of them, anyway.”

Yin’s brows shot up. “Those bastards? They’ll cross you the first chance they get!”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Why would you want to see them?”

“You’d both call me an idiot if I explained it, so I won’t. Consider it a surprise.”

“Oh, c’monnn,” Yin and Amaline said in unison. Yin continued with: “Tell us, you old bastard!”

Stephan smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Nope. You’ll just have to wait and see like the rest of Tumba.”

*****

Stephan waited on the sandy cliffside, overlooking the calm sea below, clucking away against the rocks. He was shaded from the setting sun under a wide parasol, another erected for the empty chair opposite him.

They are tardy, Aegur purred, curled up on his own little cushion next to Stephan. The maiori was there for backup, and for company. He didn’t fancy standing against a whole pirate crew all on his own.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“As long as they show up in a few minutes, it shouldn’t mess up the timing,” Stephan said.

They were at the outskirts of the city, a small harbor at the bottom of the hill. Fishermen toiled at boats, nets, fish, and sundry. Many of them threw curious glances in Stephan’s direction, but didn’t have time to linger. Either that, or they realized he was someone of importance, and didn’t want to risk incurring his wrath.

In the short time that Stephan has acted as an information broker for the gangs of Tumba, he had amassed a terrifying amount of power. His network of informants was steadily growing, and the gangs were paying him handsome amounts of money for his contributions. Enough that he could once again consider himself a millionaire.

The strangest part? It was simple. The job came easy to him, like water to a fish.

Finally, Stephan spotted three rumblers making their way through the harbor and to the base of the hill. Nine people disembarked, a reedling at their head, and made their way to the top.

Blink, formerly the first mate of the Barandi Crew, now served as its captain. Time had not been kind to him. His clothes were clean but worn, marred by faded bloodstains. His eyes were sunken and hungry.

Stephan stood and went in for a handshake, but Blink ignored him and hopped onto the chair provided without a word. His entourage of eight fanned out to either side of him, all armed. Knives and pistols at their sides, hands never straying far.

“So, what the fuck do you want?” Blink asked tersely.

“Before we get started, does anyone want refreshments?” Stephan asked, motioning to a cooler between both parties. “We have soft drinks, beer, and—”

“No,” Blink said. “We don’t want anything. Answer my question.”

Stephan slowly nodded. “I realize there’s some bad blood between us. But that’s not why I brought you here. In fact, I hope we can clear up this business quickly and painlessly. I really do.”

“That business being?”

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve uncovered some troubling information about you and your crew. You see, staying in the loop is my trade, these days. I’ve received several reports stating that the Barandi Crew is working for the Concord. Sabotaging supplies. Ambushing other crews. Passing along information to the enemy. I had you come here to that we can ascertain the truth together.”

“They’re lying, obviously,” Blink said. He was a worse liar than the former captain by far, already fidgeting in his seat. His men, meanwhile, were stiff and unmoving.

“Obviously?” Stephan asked. “I’m sorry, but I trust these sources more than I do you. If I suggest to Etin Sakaarn that you’ve been working with the enemy, you will certainly meet with… unpleasant fates. You’ll need to do a little better than that if you want to gain my confidence, Captain Blink.”

Blink giggled—a shrill, unpleasant sound. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said you’ll need to do better than that.”

“If I want to gain your confidence, is that it?”

“That’s it.”

“And why would I want that?”

“Because of your previously mentioned untimely end, which will come to pass if you fail to convince me.”

“You seem to have forgotten something, Gentleman.” Blink said the last word with unhidden revulsion. “There’s one of you. Nine of us. I don’t need to convince you of shit. I just need to make sure you don’t walk out of here.”

Stephan was cold sweating at this point, but he didn’t move a muscle. “Is that an admission of guilt, Captain Blink?”

“I think the Concordians will want to have your corpse once I’m done with you. They might want to parade you around the streets of Redharbor, show off what they do to traitors.”

“I see,” Stephan said with a sigh. “I had hoped we could solve this in a civilized manner.” He glanced up at the sky, saw a bright speck getting closer, reflecting sunlight.

Right on time. Like clockwork.

Blink drew his pistol, ordering his men to do the same. He pointed it at Stephan’s head, but it was yanked out of his hands by some invisible force and thrown off the side of the cliff.

Stephan thanked Aegur inwardly and darted forward out of his chair, not bothering to draw his weapon yet. He went for the cooler and flipped the lid open as the first few shots rang around him. He took out a hexagonal mechanism, punched a button along its side, and thrust it into the sand next to him.

“Ward, activate!” he cried.

The hexagon emitted a bubble of hardlight around him. Bullets bounced off the surface, leaving ripples in the transparent material. The generator whirred louder and louder as it was placed under stress, dozens of rounds poured into the ward.

Stephan prayed it would hold long enough. He drew his Rivello and pulled Aegur close to him. The cat yowled his displeasure, but didn’t struggle.

His prayers were answered by the loud purr of fine-tuned skyship engines. A silver wedge floated overhead, coming to a stop, the thrusters throwing up plumes of sand that made the pirates scramble away and cover their faces. The ward kept out the debris, but did nothing to improve visibility.

A vortex of dark energy sprung out of thin air at the edge of the cliff. A woman stepped out, beat-up revolver in hand, dark hair done up in a messy bun. She wore a low-cut red blouse and skin-tight pants, her curvy form cutting a rather striking figure against the sunset.

Taira Wenezian.

She raised her revolver and fired once, twice, three times. A few of the pirates opened fire on her, but Aegur disturbed their aim. With the Barandi Crew focused on Taira, Stephan switched off the ward and aimed his own weapon. He shot one man in the head and a second twice in the back.

“Sundra,” Taira said, aiming her gun at the man closest to her. A black thread bridged the distance between her and the pirate. It went taut into a knot, shearing off half his head and causing it to vanish into nothing. The man went down without a sound, his brain showing.

She followed up by firing the rest of her loaded rounds, missing all three, but it didn’t matter much. The pirates were already rattled, and Stephan picked off two more. The remaining pair surrendered, throwing their pistols to the ground and kneeling. Blink protested wildly, ordering them to continue fighting. When this proved ineffective, he turned to shoot Taira, but she split his gun in half with another use of the Sundra rune.

Blink scrambled for one of the dropped weapons. Stephan got up and hurried over, planting a foot on the reedling’s back that sent him tumbling facefirst to the ground.

In the silence that followed, Stephan and Taira shared a long look. She looked as though she wanted to say something, opening her mouth several times, but seemed to think better of it each time. There was something different in her eyes. Something dark and worn. Useful for what lay ahead, no doubt, but he was saddened to see her this way.

“Well,” Stephan said, breaking the silence, “it’s nice to see you again. I wish it had been under nicer circumstances, but… still. I missed you.”

Taira nodded, but offered no response. The ship overhead took off, a silver arrowhead against the ruddy sky.

Stephan surrendered the little captain to her, and she hauled up the reedling by his collar. He squirmed and wriggled, but his inauspicious stature made him easy to handle. While she headed down the hill, Stephan turned his attention to the prisoners. He disarmed them fully, then let them go with a kick each, sending them running back towards the city.

The fisherfolk below had all stopped what they were doing to gawk. They watch with rapt attention as Taira came towards them, holding the reedling high.

“This man is working for the Concordians,” she said. Her voice was muted as always, lacking a certain gravitas, but it would have to do. “What should be done with him?”

“Kill him!” called an old, work-hardened man, eyes nearly hidden beneath drooping wrinkles. “Suffer no traitor to live.”

“Kill,” a few others murmured.

Stephan watched the display from atop the hill, hands on hips.

Do you believe this will work? Aegur asked.

“It’ll have to,” Stephan said.

Taira dropped the pirate captain in front of the fisherfolk as more of them emerged from their home, a proper gathering now. “What kind of death does he deserve?”

“Slow,” the old man said. “Tie ‘im to the rocks. Let the waves dash ‘im dead.”

Taira nodded. “I’ll let you decide his fate.” She turned to leave, but looked back over her shoulder. “Before I go, tell me this. Do you know my name?”

“Quintilla Wenezian,” they all said.

“That’s right.”

She walked away.

Stephan struggled not to let out a cry of excitement. It had worked. He bent down to give Aegur a tiny high five. The cat simply threw him a one-eyed glare, but it did nothing to dampen his spirits.

Hero or not, the Free Cities had its symbol. A symbol of unity, hope, and most importantly…

Vengeance.

END OF BOOK TWO