People bustle around the visible entrance to the building–an archway filled in with glass and steel that shimmers and shakes with every person that goes through. Small carvings on the stone arch spark and glitter with magic that rains down on each person, sticking to them like fresh snow and dissolving into their clothes. Nobody seems to notice–or care–and I’m not sure which one’s worse.
“It’s… not really what I was expecting.” I say as we walk up to the doors, scaring the piss out of everyone we pass. “Did this dumbass really walk out the front doors and straight to us?”
Illumisia snorts with amusement. “It would seem so. Should we barge in and demand a meeting with their superior?”
I glance up at the upper floor, and through the glass, I see someone staring down at us. Well, more like glaring down at me in particular. She crosses her arms and points accusingly at the person on Illumisia’s back, then holds up a hand for us to wait and disappears. Looks like they’re coming to us.
“How convenient.” Pearl says sarcastically. “I thought we were done with weird companies when we left Earth. Please don’t get involved with this one, Shelby.”
“I don’t plan on it.” I say as I trail the person I saw on the upper floor walk out of the entrance. “Looks like the boss is here. Think she’s going to try and kill us right away?”
“That would make things far easier.” Illumisia licks her lips with a vicious glimmer in her eye. “Anything is preferable to bureaucracy.”
The woman meets my eyes, frowns, and beelines at me through the crowd. Quite literally–she actively walks through people, her body dissolving into mist where it contacts someone else and reforming the moment she’s through. She’s one of those… dragon-people… what were they called again?
Ytocwa. That’s it. She’s dressed like I’d expect a powerful businesswoman to be–pencil skirt, white shirt, thin glasses on a stone chain, and her own spike-heeled feet in place of shoes. Unlike the others I’ve seen, most of her body is covered in scales–leaving only a few patches of visible skin on her forearms and neck. And she looks pissed.
“You–whoever you are. Come with me.” She demands and walks right past me. Without turning to see if I’m following, she continues talking. “Interfering with a Class exam is a first degree violation, and assaulting said person taking their test upgrades it to a second degree. But since I have a morning full of meetings I don’t want to go to, I’ll be listening to your side of the story before I make a decision. Am I understood?”
Wow. Assertive much? I roll my eyes and scratch Illumisia behind the ears to keep her from mauling the woman in broad daylight, then move to follow her to wherever she’s taking us. Then I lean down and whisper into Illumisia’s ear.
“Save it for later. We need the info more than we need the blood.”
Illumisia grumbles agreement. I straighten my back and speed-walk until I’m just a step behind this strange woman–and the smell of her perfume finally hits me. It’s an overwhelming blend of citrus and whatever spices are in gingerbread. And it’s laced with magic. I sneer at the scent and wipe my nose as my awareness fights the magic, which is much more insidious than almost anything I’ve seen. Until I actually smelled it I couldn’t even tell there was magic in it.
The woman finally turns her head without slowing down. “You have very strong magical resistance.”
Then she turns away, apparently done with one sentence. I’m not a fan of her, and I’ve known her for all of thirty seconds. Maybe I’ll just let Illumisia maul her anyway.
As the very real possibility bounces around in my head, we round a corner to an open-air cafe that’s closely reminiscent to Whitestone Porch. A sign reads ‘Redstone Porch’, confirming the connection, and the woman hustles to a table that two other Ogean men are nearly at. Before they can sit down she snaps her fingers, and suddenly, a burst of mist puts them five steps back.
The men share a confused look, then turn their ire on the woman. “You know there are other tables here, right lady?”
“Yes. but I wanted this one.” The woman states as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Seeing as there are so many other tables, pick one. I assure you they’re just as good as this one.”
“What… I… you…” One of the men trails off, then sneers. “Listen here, you entitled lizard–”
The other man grabs him by the shoulders. “Not worth it, man. Let’s just grab a table on the other side, far away from them.”
With a shake of his shoulders and a huff, the angry Ogean glares daggers at the assassin’s boss and walks right past her. Grumbles about ‘lizard’ this and ‘old bitch’ that leak from his mouth as his friend urges him on, sneaking glances back at the woman with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.
The woman sighs and shakes her head. “Such an annoyance. Well? What are you waiting for–an official invitation? If you are, I commend you for understanding your place. Now please take a seat. We have little to discuss and far too much time to do it.”
I stare at the open seats like they’re covered in caltrops. Sitting across from that woman is about the last thing I want to do right now, and if I sic Illumisia on her, I’d have two Ogean men cheering me on. But, in my own words, we need info more than bloodshed right now. So I push through the biting dislike for this woman and pull up the seat directly across from her as Illlumisia lies down at my feet.
“Let’s get the pointless mysteries out of the way before we begin: you may call me Rouge. I am a Scout, you may not know my clearance, and I am the direct superior of the woman on your Painted Dane’s back. She was in the process of completing a task to obtain a true Class, and now that it has been interrupted, there is a great chance that she has failed.”
She tilts her head slightly to the side and stares directly into my eyes. “The law states that you are to be arrested and charged with interference. I have the power to do so. Explain to me why I shouldn’t exercise these rights.”
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I… just… wow. As first impressions go, this woman’s getting a whopping zero out of ten for me. All that’s left is for her to be a dick to the staff when they come to take our order. Not to mention the fact that her employee just tried to kill me.
“Your goddamn employee just tried to kill me. And you’re blaming me for this?” I shake my head in disbelief. “At least try to play the part of a sympathetic businesswoman before you go mask-off assassin guild leader.”
Rouge bristles at that remark. “We are not assassins. We are scouts. Some of us may specialize in end of life affairs, but it is not what defines us.”
I bark out a humourless laugh. “So what the hell was I supposed to do against your scout? If I sat back and did nothing, I’d be rotting on the street with whoever died there a week or so ago.”
“Yes, that would be preferable. Unfortunately for the both of us, you didn’t do that.” Rouge sighs and taps her claw-like nails against the table. “Would you consent to returning to the spot, forfeiting your life, and covering up the fact that any of this ever happened?”
Dude. What the actual hell is happening. I feel like I just took a bunch of pills and now nothing makes sense. Some part of me wants to believe Rouge is just screwing with me, but her tone and posture only make her seem more serious.
“No.”
She sighs. “I thought as much. Then I am arresting you for the interference in a Class’ acquisition and the assault of said person attempting to acquire their class.”
“Whoah, hold up.” I raise my hands to get her to stop. She doesn’t.
“When the guard arrives, you will relent to their demands. If you struggle, it will only add to your eventual sentencing, and will allow the use of truth-magics to extract a confession. Do you understand what I have said?”
A hand falls on my shoulder, and it lights a fire of rage in my throat. My awareness tells me there’s a pair of guards standing to my left and right, both cloaked in so much magic that they’re nearly indistinguishable as people. But something feels… off. There’s no goddamn way this place just allows assassinations to happen because someone’s getting a class. And there’s definitely no way they’d arrest me for defending myself, and proving that said person doesn’t deserve a class.
It doesn’t make any sense. Absolutely none at all. Unless I think of it another way. A way that’s pretty damn common on Earth, and that I’d sort of hoped didn’t exist here.
“You paid off the damn guards.” I spit with enough venom to kill an elephant. “Why the hell did I agree to this in the first place? Your employee just tried to kill me. I should’ve rearranged your face the second you stepped onto the street.”
Rouge shrugs. “You didn’t seem like the sort to murder in broad daylight. You didn’t even have the gumption to end the life of the assassin who was sent specifically to kill you. Though now it doesn’t matter; the contract is complete, although roundabout in nature, and my part is done. Take her. They’ll find her in prison.”
Illumisia growls as the guard’s hand digs into my shoulder. I can’t even pretend to be scared; the magic pressing down on me is pathetic compared to Shout’s. It’s all theatrics and bullying. The only thing keeping me from turning all three of these bastards into red mist is my own damn words: we need info. But it doesn’t mean I can’t get it on my own terms.
I lower my hands below the table, careful not to make any moves that would alert the guards, and summon a ghost quarter. Purification flows into it in a stream that leaves a salty taste in my mouth, and an overwhelming freshness that feels unbelievably raw. Another coin joins it, and in this one, I put a shield. Neither of the guards notice. Because they’re goddamn useless, corrupt morons.
“Did you kill the messenger I hired?”
A short, curt laugh barely escapes Rouge’s lips. “Of course not; killing informants is bad for business. That strange Paindne–what was his name… something childish like… Cluster, I believe, was far more of a pain. He was strangely loyal to you for reasons I can’t fathom.”
Uh… what? Is she insinuating that she killed Clutter? Because I’m damn sure I just talked to him yesterday. I shoot a confused glance at Illumisia, who returns it in spades before she sniffs the air.
“Clutter is very much alive. In fact, he is waiting at Whitestone Porch for us at this very moment. He also had no scent on him that would even mildly incriminate him with what is happening here.” She relays silently into my mind. “Either Clutter is far more prepared and devious than I first thought, or some other poor bastard named Clutter with a scout class died pointlessly.”
“I hope it’s the first option.” Pearl says seriously.
So do I, Pearl. But Rouge seems to be convinced that Clutter’s dead. And the hand on my shoulder is getting a little too tight for my comfort.
“Hey, Rouge?” I offer her a smile full of teeth, and for the shortest of moments, she flinches away. “You should really start running now.”
She stands bolt upright, knocking over her chair in the process. I snap the coin with Purification in it and a ten-foot wide burst of salty, shimmering magic coats the air around me. All the magic empowerment in the hand on my shoulder fades away, replaced by muscle that’s nowhere near as powerful as before. I turn and grin at the guards, one of which is trying to run away, and flare my shield.
One pops into existence right around the guard who didn’t have the wherewithal to run. I push relocation into a third coin, drop it on Illumisia, and lazily turn as she flashes to the fleeing guard in a whirl of cherry red. My world shifts, and just as I push a shield into another coin, the guard whirls on me and brings down a hammer that wasn’t there a second ago.
Instinctively, I call on another coin and fill it with a projectile. Wth the extra control being Fleur’s god affords me, I wrap the roiling magic around the guard’s arm and tear it clean off, armor and all. He screams bloody murder, yelling into his helmet for backup, and I grab him by the back of his neck and drag him into the purification field before imprisoning him as well.
Of course, Rouge is nowhere to be seen. But I’m not worried about that; she’s just going to whoever her boss is. That’s the person I want to watch Illumisia rip to bloody shreds. After torturing the info on who put a hit on me out of them, of course.
“Efficient. Well done.” Illumisia praises me as she walks up next to the armless guard. He whimpers and flinches away. “I have the woman’s scent. If she never returns from reporting to her boss, we will know her final whereabouts. Give it two days and she will lead us straight to them.”
“Perfect. And you still have the assassin.” I laugh and pat the unconscious woman on the head. “We’ll bring her up with us before we go see Clutter. Maybe Miss S will recognize her from–”
Before I can finish, ribbons of magic blow in on a soft breeze. My blood goes cold as I recognize where they came from, and for the shortest of moments, I really, really hope I wasn’t misunderstanding the situation.
Because I sure as hell don’t want the Horizonguard I met months ago as my enemy.