“You know how I know you're a kitsune, Joey? You…sprint faster…than Usain Bolt!” Kyle is gasping for breath when they get to the botanical garden entrance, and the padlock is already off the gate. Kyle pulls out the phone and shows it to her. Lavernius is now prying up the planks, in the same way that they had several hours previously. It’s late afternoon, and the light is disappearing over the lake. Several arcane lights had already turned on throughout the perimeter of Asqualia, illuminating the area in all sorts of vibrant colors. Lavernius is in the dingy shack, and the first thing he goes for is the arcanlink. He glances around, peering out the window. As far as he is concerned, he's alone, and he goes back to punching in an access code. Slowly, each button tap met with an initial hesitance. He is not looking forward to this call.

“Okay, hold up. What’s our plan?” Kyle whispers as they lean around the corner of the stone wall. Curtis had just caught up to them, and Kyle motioned him to watch the video feed from the golem, still perched silently in the shack.

“We should wait. Let’s see who he’s calling,” Curtis whispers back before glancing around the corner. The shack is at the end of the row, and the door is closed. The feed shows Lavernius is otherwise occupied, and he presses one final button. The device crackles to life.

“Hey. It's me.” He spoke quietly. There is a brief pause. “It's our calling hour, you are never late,” he says with a soft sigh.

“I'm here. I'm in damage control mode, Lavernius. Val just jumped the dragon.” that voice… middle-aged, deadly calm, that Welsh accent again. Based on the programmed phone numbers and the fact that it isn't Val, it must be King. She doubts Lavernius is talking about War Crime.

“Explain.”

“Val just launched a six-pronged assault on multiple SAF garrisons. None of my men knew this was happening, because she did this at the last minute, and kept only her inner circle in the loop.” Lavernius looks pissed at this, and Joey realizes she’s been ignoring the pinging on her phone for the better part of an hour. She dares a glance–the Arcanet is in utter panic mode, people are being given shelter-in-place instructions to avoid Onyx Talon soldiers.

Are we too late? That dreadful question is quickly answered by King with a moment of hope, however faint it is.

“Lavernius, I need to move, now. Val’s inside man is likely about to initialize whatever harebrained scheme she’s got, which means the risk of a bloodbath is getting sky-high.”

“You should have had better tabs on her, King!” Lavernius almost shouts. She can hear that muffled frustration through the shack wall at this distance, not even through the golem.

“You can’t plan for crazy, Lavernius. This domino was set in motion on Wednesday by a miscalculation from one of my underlings. Rashalda and company might have put your daughter into the safety of SAF, but Val was convinced the timetables needed to be accelerated.”

“Damn it, is my daughter with them?” There was a brief pause.

“Negative. She is not. Not from the last report I had. The reason Asqualia isn’t being bathed in blood right now is two-fold. Val’s men didn't hold the platform at the Promenade, they were routed. The second reason, my planted agents spotted three dragons laying waste to Val’s men at Mercadian Promenade an hour ago. I’ll give you a guess who they were.”

“Ah, shit. Tell me it wasn’t Drenar and Julia.”

WHAT?! The fact that Lavernius knows both of them on a first-name basis is frightening. They’d known this man. They’re friends with his daughter. This utter betrayal will not be well received, and Joey is at the front of the line for putting a bolt through both his kneecaps.

“And another dragon–Jonaleth’s friend. Val’s men sought to punish her for Jonaleth’s mistakes, and Rashalda’s crew picked her up. I’m still getting information, but assume they are on their way to Asqualia. They likely shorted out the teleportal just after the incursion, either because they knew Val’s plan–unlikely–or they had another…” King trails off. Lavernius paces back and forth, looking anxious.

If he's anxious, then her kitsune heart is pumping like her adrenaline gland is going into overdrive. What the hell was Drenar doing, getting into another major firefight?! Unless this was part of the plan, and the Talons just showed up at the worst time possible?

“King, don’t. I know that voice of yours. Don’t use these kids.”

“We are running out of options. If I can convince Rashalda to see reason, he may get us the journals in a bid to protect the facility. SAF protocol dictates that all secure facilities have secondary and tertiary land route access points when teleportal systems are disabled. They did it on purpose. They know the way in!”

“This helps us, how?”

“Joey, this is world-class drama and nightmare fuel,” Curtis whispers. He’s already drawn his bolt pistol and press-checked the bolt sitting on the slide. “We should capture him, now–”

“Wait.” She puts a hand up to halt him, while King and Lavernius continue their discussion.

“Let me put this in layman’s terms, King. You want to use my daughter’s best friend, her best friend, and others, in a madder than a mad-hatter ploy to get them to do the dirty work for you, after you screwed up?!”

“Precisely. You forget, I know who he comes from. I would have been disappointed if a descendant of the Luminaires wasn’t so remarkably tenacious.” King practically purrs when he says that, and Joey grips the display tighter. This man is dangerous, and uses people in his high-stakes game of life and death. “I even had a chat with him. It was…illuminating.”

“Is that how you got beat to hell two nights ago?” Lavernius demands.

“It was…part of it. Now pay attention Lavernius. Oh, and you might want to get the attention of your onlookers. I want them to hear this as well.”

All three of them gasp, and Lavernius slowly turns his gaze up to the golem. He gives them a small salute.

“I’ve been wondering when we would cross paths, Miss Pyromist.”

“Dude’s a freaking wizard,” Kyle breathes. She would point out that is a rather obvious statement, but she decides to cut him some slack for now. This is bad in so many ways when the arcanlink flickers with light, and a projection starts to emerge. It’s exactly as Drenar and Julia described–a man dressed in a steampunk vest, collared button shirt, and dark slacks, and he wears that slightly wavy medium-length hair, and has soft caramel eyes. King is now personally involved in this, and she clicks the transmit button before Kyle can stop her. Curtis has his weapon drawn, and aims it at the shack, waiting for a motion.

“How the hell do you know who I am, King?!” she says with seething fury. “I've never met you in my life!”

“Your talent and reputation precede you, Josephine.” It grates on her nerves that this bastard is using her first name, as if trying to build up some sort of rapport kinship. “The automaton I'm speaking to could not be your design, given your specializations. The lesser Bertance has indeed been busy.”

“Wow, could you possibly be any more savage?” Kyle asks with a snarl, but Joey gives him a quick shake of her head. This is not the time for this, especially in the face of danger.

“Yes, I do know of Gale. As a man whose expertise is intelligence, it would be a poor showing if I did not keep tabs on exemplary talents and daring individuals with vast potential.” King bows with just a crease of his spine and a low flourish with one hand. It doesn't feel like mockery. Lavernius taps his foot.

“We're on a timetable, King. This is your call.”

“Bernard, fear not. I'm sure that the young adults on the other end would be interested in a bargain of mutual benefits,” King says with poise. He turns back to the golems' fixed eye. “I'll keep it simple. You have something I need. The journals are located in the furthest confines of the vault. I am certain that Volkir will never willingly part with them. But he might be amenable to a trade.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Joey, don’t–” Curtis is not getting a say on this one.

“Your psychopath of a partner is carving a path of bloodshed through town and abroad, King. You think she’s going to stop, just because she gets the keys to godhood?” King stands there, steadfast and collected. Nothing rattles this guy it seems like. “Nah, no deal. Your agent on the ground is pinned. This is over.”

“But it’s actually beginning, Josephine.” That polite smile needs a good dose of fire to fix her mood right about now. He continues, sensing she’s holding her words. “Consider this, I can arrange for the safety of–”

“Let me make clear something for you, elusive man,” she snarls. “Your plan is an apocalypse waiting to happen. There’s a magical biozone that was as dead as can be, and your machine brought it back to life. Two other biozones increased fifty percent in size. That was with just a fraction of the power input. If your device is scaled–assuming you could get a power source big enough to scale it beyond an isolation sphere–you will kill the planet. Magical biozones will encroach on civilization. Human civilization will be toxified by the rampant mana exposure, and you will kill everyone by doing this.”

“Ah. So kind of you to confirm a theory for me. I owe Nigel a small wager,” he says in a bemused way. She opens her mouth to speak and nothing comes of it. He wants this to happen?! This makes no sense! “Josephine, consider this, we have studied this device. The Kiln’starnoth. It is an engine of aetherial potency, we are merely–”

“I don’t want to hear it. Your inside man is done, we’re taking him into custody. Lavernius, you need to open the door, come out with your hands up, and just maybe, you get to see your daughter with regular visitations. Because you’ve betrayed everyone you’ve ever worked with. Including me.” Lavernius grunts audibly. King stands there, looking stoic.

“You don’t want to hear my offer?” King asks calmly.

“Nothing you can offer me can ever be worth what you’ll do to the planet, and Valosterla is using you as a means to an end. Both of you. And you're both foolish for thinking she won't kill you the second you become an inconvenience,” she states with fervor.

“Oh? What if I told you we could bring down the Conclave? What if I could ensure that all kin could be equals? Including, perhaps, your own soul touched kindred?"

He knows. Her involuntary gasp is enough to confirm it for King, who adjusts his tie, and Lavernius winces. Kyle puts a hand on her shoulder, but she shakes it away. This secret is out in the world now, if King knows. All he needs is one phone call, or one social media post, and everyone will start asking questions.

Even if she survives this unfolding disaster, her life is toast. Kyle’s life is toast. Everyone in her immediate group of friends is toast. That unnerving polite smile draws her back from panic mode. She is seething at this man.

“I’ve known for eight years. Ever since you graced the academy with your brilliance, it wasn’t hard to deduce by paying close attention. Besides…the purple eyes were a dead giveaway.”

“Almost no one can see my true eye color, King. How can you?” she demands.

“Guess you and I have a connection, then.” This causes her to laugh in mockery, and he is unphased.

“Yeah, you and I have a connection, psycho. That’s a good one!” When was she ever this bold in her words before? It must come naturally when she’s dealing with megalomaniacs, she figures.

“Joey, this is what he does. This is how he plays, don’t listen to him. Don’t let him get to you, remember what he did to Drenar,” Kyle says with firmness in his voice before moving his face into view, eyes narrowed. “If you thought you could deliver that King, you’d have done it already. You don’t want equality for all. You want a rocket ride to godhood with yourself at the top.”

“No. Altruism is my goal. Even if the means are decidedly difficult to achieve,” King rebukes. “The Conclave is rotted from within, Miss Pyromist. It is the noose slowly closing around the necks of all Kin, and there will not be room to hide for much longer. This eventuality is coming sooner than you think. When they enact the legislation for psionic dampers…well, it’ll be a crime to refuse them. You know that it failed by only ten percent last time the Conclave held its legislative chamber session. Next time it will be less. And the time after that…it will pass.”

“And you think you can fix that?” He’s promising the world and she knows he can’t deliver, even though it would mean the world to her if he could–but never at the expense of other people. “Do you have any idea what my life has been like? Any idea!?”

“You are the pinnacle of success. Oh, you mean the crippling anxiety. Yes, I understand that part, too. I just need the journals, Josephine–”

“It’s Miss Pyromist to you. You haven’t earned that name,” she states defiantly. Lavernius sighs.

“Told you this wasn’t going to work.” King gives him a reassuring wave of his hand.

“I’m not out of cards yet. Hear me out, Miss Pyromist. I need the journals from the vault, Volkir likely holds them close, but he may be partial to your words. I will come to collect them, in exchange for getting Val off your back, and the names of the traitors within SAF. We both want the same thing.”

“No. We don’t. I want a world where Kin live as equals, King. That’s all I have ever wanted. You want to smash the world order with a sledgehammer, terraform the globe with that device, and then play games with people’s lives like you’ve been doing. You are the definition of a sociopath.” Her eyes narrow. “No. There is no deal here. There is no deal with you, ever.”

“So, that’s a no?”

“I’m taking a line out of Drenar's playbook. Get fucked, King.”

He lets out a soft sigh, as if this reaction was a foregone conclusion to him. “And before I come looking for you for daring to threaten my home and the people in it, we’re going to go cancel your partners’ imminent invasion. We know how she’s getting in.”

The answer comes to her in an instant, now that she’s had more than a second to analyze. “The secondary teleportals for cargo transport can be spoofed far more easily. She could set up a relay with the primary teleportal with the right know-how, and bypass the security to the lower access levels that the cargo ones use.”

“Oh–oh.” Kyle makes the connection in an instant, his face filled with dread. “That narrows down the pool a bit.” Lavernius gasps.

“She’s correct. It would have been a brute-force play, requiring direct access to the consoles by the teleportal hub and splicing a few arcane circuits, but it would have been an obvious tamper.” Why exactly is he acknowledging the play here? She needs to stay focused. “Joey, they won’t just come for Kitsune. Do you have any idea what they’ve done to my wife? What they make her do? What they will do to Kelly, my daughter? Or your new friends?”

“No, this is my negotiating point. You’re going to help us systematically dismantle every teleportal in-network, Lavernius. You help us with that, and you get to live.” She grabs an alchemical canister off her belt, and primes it with a trace of mana across her hand. “This is pyromethanine and cyclifor hexane. It’s a potent detonator. It will also turn your shack–and you–into kindling. You’ve got thirty seconds to come out.” The projection of King smiles politely.

“Ah shit, you made bombs,” Kyle groans–probably the least of their worries at the moment, but she needs Lavernius alive to short-circuit the bigger problem.

“No, he’s got fifteen seconds.” Curtis readies his weapon and advances on the door. “Lavernius! If I break down that door, you will not be taken alive. Am I clear?”

“Knew this was gonna end badly for me.” Lavernius slumps. King is still wearing that calm veneer and glances at his partner.

“It’s fine. After all…we all need to tread lightly on treacherous grounds.”

Time freezes for a brief second for her. Why would King say that? Curtis is at the door, weapon aimed, and he bellows for Lavernius to come out. Is he trying to hint at something?

Boots.

Boots caked in mud. She dares a peek at where they had been checking out the tracks. The same mud. Had Curtis–no, he had come up from a different direction. A cold dread fills her being.

That nagging feeling back earlier plays out in her head, the second set of tracks, and she’s put the marker, right at the inside of the doorway.

Military-style boots.

Several ex-soldiers were here at the facility, but–

Is Kyle right? If he’s been right, then–then she’s been ignoring the one person who had the right answer the whole time.

Instinct takes over. She grabs the binary agent canister and makes the throw of her life, while drawing the bolt pistol out of her pouch. A bolt is still on the firing rail.

The canister cracks open and douses Curtis’s boots, and he shouts, surprised. “Joey, what the hell–”

She’s already aimed the bolt pistol squarely at his head, and Kyle shouts out in surprise. She only takes one glance to confirm her suspicion Kyle had been right the entire time. He’s been right not to trust Curtis.

And she almost made a fatal mistake in trusting him.

The chemical marker is activated on his boots in a fluorescent yellow dye. He went in, after their discovery, but before he arrived here to meet with them. He doesn’t move, and is frozen in place.

“Well spotted, Josephine.” King’s accolades could mean less to her, but now she has both saboteurs.

Curtis is the second traitor. And he’s been playing them from the beginning.