Near Delphi, Eganene

There was a small group of people standing around him. He could tell by the way their bodies blocked the light. He couldn’t see them well, his vision was fuzzy, but he could hear them.

“He’s conscious?” asked one.

Julian could hear the south in the way he rounded his vowels. He sounded cultured, well-bred, like money and privilege, something often disdained within the ranks of The Family. He also sounded familiar.

“I doubt it,” replied another man. “We got there as fast as we could, but we were hours behind.”

“I see.” The voice definitely sounded familiar.

Julian kept his eyes closed and his body still. Below him was a wooden table. His fingers were splayed against it and the surface was warm. They must have moved him from Peter’s house. He wondered how long he had been unconscious. How far away were Peter and the girl? How bad were his injuries?

Julian’s head throbbed. The men’s voices echoed in and out as though he were in a cave. He’d been about to kill Peter. He remembered opening the door and then…everything went black.

He hadn’t been shot, he’d survived enough few bullets to know. Instead the pain was centered in his skull, his heartbeats bumping against his eyelids.

Trauma to the head. These men had retrieved him-- an interesting undertaking, given his weight. It would have taken them considerable effort to get him back here, wherever “here” was.

Inside, Julian smiled. He was still valuable, despite the screw-up.

“This one’s partner,” the second man was saying, “was dead. We left him in the house.” Julian felt a moment of confusion. It was a hard thing to accept that Thom hadn’t made it. He’d survived dozens of gunfights.

It was the worst sort of irony that Peter had ended his life.

“You sent men after him?” the familiar voice asked. “Was there a visible trail?”

“I sent a team, but there were multiple trails. We were able to identify at least two others and there might be a third. The light all originated at the same point, but we weren’t able to investigate. The building burned, along with the rest of the block. There was nothing left.”

“They all Traveled to the same place and then destroyed the evidence?” asked the familiar voice.

“Depends on who it was, I suppose. I wouldn’t want to hypothesize.”

“Do you think Peter has others with him, helping him? Or did someone follow him?”

The second man sounded uncertain, “I don’t know what to think. So much unregistered Traveling, especially all in the same place. I want to think they’re related, but none of the trails followed the same path.”

“This is troubling.”

“I have men tracking all of them,” the second voice said, “but I sent my best after Peter.”

“But why did he run?”

Julian was curious how they were going to answer that question. He and Thom had come up with an elaborate plan to stash contraband in Peter’s house. But they hadn’t gotten the chance. He’d been too excited to kill Peter to think about unloading his pockets. His fingers twitched. The men were watching him. If they didn’t know he was awake, he didn’t want to draw their attention.

“Peter left no demands.”

The cultured voice spoke again, “If he’d cause to kill a Brother, he should have reported to us directly. Or waited for us to come to him. If someone was chasing him, he could have come in. The directives are explicit. This is terrible timing.”

A new, lower voice entered the conversation. “I’ll send extra patrols to the Facility. At this point, we don’t know what he’s about. But the Traveling makes me nervous. With those kinds of resources, we could be vulnerable.”

“Prudent,” the familiar voice answered, “but let’s not make this into more than it is. At this point, he’s just one man. We’ll look into the Traveling, find out who it was and see if there isn’t a reasonable explanation.”

Julian chose that moment to speak. They couldn’t underestimate Peter or give him time to weasel his way out of trouble.

“He isn’t alone,” Julian said. His voice was rough and gravely, but his words were clear enough. He heard both men inhale. “He has a girl with him.”

“What girl?” the familiar voice asked as a hand found his shoulder.

The pressure was warm and not at all threatening. It had been so long since another person touched him that Julian was unable to speak. Julian experienced an overwhelming affinity, as if his emotions and feelings were originating from someone other than himself. The man’s hand pressed down a little more and it felt like he was resting part of his weight on Julian’s shoulders.

Julian fought the urge to weep.

He wasn’t sad. He was injured. This must be some kind of strange reaction to his concussion. He needed to think about what he was saying. Getting all worked up about a gesture was ridiculous.

He fought to open his eyes, blocking out the light of the candles with his forearm. He needed to see what was happening, to get perspective.

“I can’t be sure,” he said, making out three silhouettes. “He shot at us before we had a chance to see the girl up close. But we did do some recon and my partner saw her from the window before we went in.”

“How old?”

“We couldn’t be certain. A young girl. Not a child.” He could feel their eyes on his face. He might want to meet them directly, but he couldn’t, not yet. The pain in his skull made him feel like he had to throw up.

He was sure they were Family, but there were many groups and factions within the organization. Had Julian known who they were, he could have tailored his story to suit their needs. As it was, he was operating blind.“So you…”

“A word, Sir,” someone said.

And they were leaving. The floor was wood. He could hear it in the sound of their boots as they walked away. Two of the men were on the lighter side, but the last was heavyset. A Dog, Julian thought as the door slammed.

The sound shot straight through his skull. Gingerly, he felt his scalp, discovering that they had dressed his wound. He had a piece of cloth wrapped around his head and beneath it he could feel heavy gauze. He must have been bleeding badly for them to take such precautions.

Secrecy was routine in the Family. It was a normal practice to speak in private, but Julian would have thought they would have finished interviewing him first. Perhaps they had more information than they were letting on. It was even possible that Thom wasn’t dead. They might let Julian believe it for their own purposes and be interviewing him in another room, right at that very moment.

He didn’t really believe that. He’d seen his partner go down. Thom had been his roommate and confidant for almost two decades. If Julian made it out of this meeting, he’d have a lot to think about. He’d gotten used to having someone guard his back, someone who had skills to compliment his own. He wouldn’t mourn Thom, but he would miss his company.

He squinted towards the door. The man with the cultured voice was obviously his superior, but he didn’t report to him. Protocol required him to ask for his Manager and wait. Instead, Julian had offered up information willingly. He wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing.

He was changing his allegiances, offering his services to this new, familiar voice. He wasn’t sure why he’d done that.

Laboriously, he rolled himself onto his side. His head pulsed as if his movements were sending a tidal wave of blood from one side of his skull to the other. The pressure was almost unbearable, but he fought the sensation until his agony subsided. He was in a world of trouble.

He’d tried to kill Peter, stalked him to his house and shot at him. Julian could spin it as self-defense or a service to the Family, but there was no way to know if they’d buy his story. And now that he had spoken to the man with the familiar voice, he’d put himself in an even more precarious position. If the man didn’t take Julian’s offer, his own Manager would seek action against him.

But that was putting the cart before the horse. There was a real likelihood that after they got their information, they’d discard him. And the meeting hadn’t started well. He’d hardly managed a dozen words before they left for a side bar.

They were gone for some time. Behind him he found some pillows, and using them as a support, pushed himself up. He did it slowly, trying not to black out. He needed to show these men that he was strong and coherent, that he could be useful to them. In his profession, incompetent men were dead men.

The ties from his bandage hung against the back of his neck and his shirt was stiff with dried blood. He wiped at his eyes and opened them. There were candles on the dresser and rich carpet under the table. He was in someone’s dining room.

An important someone’s dining room.

Everything in the room spoke of money and power. There were paintings in glass frames on the walls and a case with finely crafted metalwork. Julian kept his face turned away from the fire. The candlelight was bad enough.

There was only one door in the room and the windows were covered with heavy, curtains. Briefly, he considered trying to escape.

It would have been a poor decision. He could hardly get up and there was no way he was going to climb out the window. Even if he had been well, he wouldn’t have run. The Family’s resources were extensive. It wouldn’t have taken them long to find him.

Julian was sitting with his head in his hands when the men returned.

“Tell me what happened,” the familiar voice asked, entering the room first. The other men followed, taking up positions on either side. The speaker’s dark hair was pulled back and Julian had a clear view of his face. He had a small pinched mouth, the upper lip thicker and turned down so that it rested heavily against his lower one. His eyes were set deep in his skull and the bones of his face were visible through his pale skin. Julian didn’t recognize him.

He cleared his throat, “My partner and I, we felt Peter rip through, felt him back on Earth where we were stationed.”

“Many of us felt that,” the second man replied. Julian could see that he was also tall, but his white hair was bound in a tail behind his head.

“I would have never authorized any such action,” the familiar voice intoned.

The man had to be a Manager. Perhaps they’d met during training or maybe he’d been part of the Purge. Either way, Julian needed to be careful and tell his story the right way.

“We thought it strange, too,” he said. “My partner and I left immediately to investigate. We tracked his spell,” Julian twisted the last word, making sure the man knew what he thought of majic. “There were two trails together and I was able to follow them to Peter’s house.”

“What did you suspect he’d done,” asked the second man, “that you opened fire on him in his own home?”

Julian nodded gently, fighting the urge to be sick. “My partner and I were often stationed with this man. We share a Manager and have had the same objective for years. We’ve had good occasion to observe him in action and note irregularities.”

“You reported these to your superior?”

“No, Sir.” Julian admitted. “We wanted something more concrete before we bothered anyone with our findings.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“That’s not protocol,” the familiar voice declared.

Julian’s stomach twisted. “No, Sir. That was our mistake. We should’ve taken the correct channels.”

“You take the responsibility for this?” asked the second man.

Julian frowned, swallowing his fear, “Yes, Sir.”

There was a moment of silence. Julian could feel them watching him, could feel the man’s judgment. He’d just admitted to trying to kill a Brother and defying protocol. There would be no trial, no jury. Within their Brotherhood, there was only your superior’s decision. Julian watched the other two men shift positions, settling their feet more comfortably against the wooden floor.

He was unarmed and they had pistols at their hips. If this man wanted him dead, then Julian would die. He was injured and they were armed. Swallowing, Julian looked up and met the Manager’s eyes. He could read little there, no kindness, no malice, just intelligence.

Julian felt a flash of heat. It was too late to worry. And there was nothing he could do. This man would make his judgment and Julian would live or die by his word.

The Manager spoke and Julian’s heart stutter-stopped, “Your name?”

“Julian.”

“It speaks to your benefit that you are willing to accept responsibility, Julian. It would have been much more convenient to pin the blame on your dead partner.”

He tried not to sigh with relief, “Yes, Sir.”

“So after you tracked Peter and this female, what did you do?”

Julian fought to find the words. Relief flooded through him, so strong he wanted to weep. The man could still change his mind. “We broke into his house and attempted to collect the girl.”

“But…” began the white haired man.

Julian grimaced, “Peter shot my partner as he opened the door. He didn’t say a word, just opened fire. Judging by my head, I was attacked from behind. I don’t remember anything after that, so I must have blacked out.”

“You required immediate medical assistance.”

“I’m not surprised,” Julian murmured, touching the bandage on his head. “Thank you for my life.”

“Peter left you to bleed out,” the man replied. “Strange that he didn’t finish the job.”

“It is strange, and strange that they were working together.” It wasn’t a lie. The girl must have been behind the door when he came through. He had been so focused on Peter that he hadn’t even registered her as a threat.

“Ah,” breathed the familiar man. “That is more than disturbing.”

Julian had to agree. If Peter had the Radcliff girl, why would she help him? And she hadn’t used her power either. He decided to save that bit of information for later. It was best not to show all his cards.

“Find out who his Manager is,” continued the cultured voice, directing his orders to the heavyset man in the back. He leaned down towards Julian’s face, “What was your partner’s name?”

“Thom,” Julian replied, opening his eyes a little further.

The man straightened, issuing his directive to the Dog, “Tell Julian’s Manager that Thom has permanently left his employment and that I require this man’s assistance. If he needs more information, I will send it through the appropriate channels.”

“Yes, Sir,” replied the muscle.

“I’m going to send you south,” the familiar voice ordained, his hand once again on Julian’s shoulder. “You will rest here until your injuries have healed.”

Excitement and relief warred for control. This man had a plan for him, something he was needed for. And he was willing to challenge Julian’s own Manager for his services. Julian tried hard to keep his emotions off his face.

But South? he thought. He couldn’t go south.

“What about Peter?” Julian asked, wiping at his eyes. He’d never been so direct with his Manager before, but he was vested in this. Even if he couldn’t ask his other questions, Thom had been his friend. Peter had been his to kill from the start. He wasn’t about to let that go.

His new Manager shook his head, “You’re in no condition to be tracking. Truth, you’re lucky to be alive. And I want you south with me.”

The man’s hand pressed down and Julian felt himself relax. “Why do you think Peter is working with the girl? What motivation could he possibly have to change sides like this?”

“He was always suspect,” Julian answered. “You know his history during the Rebellion?”

His Manager shook his head.

“Ask your men,” Julian answered. “I’m sure they will tell the same tale. He disappeared. Gone for more than a year.”

“But then why was he given such responsibility?” the man asked. “If he was known to be…”

“Suspected,” Julian interrupted, “but not known. He is a capable soldier. He can Travel and he is good with his gun.”

“I see.”

Julian felt a flash of panic, “My guns…”

“Gone,” the man confirmed. “You have my sympathies. When he is apprehended, I will have them returned to you.”

Julian was having trouble forming words. Without them, he was vulnerable. He was weak; he was…

What was he? He couldn’t fight and he couldn’t defend himself.

“You will go south,” the man said again.

“I…”

“Obviously, this has been upsetting for you. Get some sleep and when you’re strong enough to travel, we can be on our way.” Almost as an afterthought, he said, “My men tell me Peter is headed south. Perhaps we will run into him on the road.”

Julian felt the blood rush to his face, “What am I…what am I being sent south for, Sir?”

“Now is not the time. We’ll report to my superiors in Orlenia, tell them what’s happening here and what you know.” The man put his arm beneath Julian and the other men stepped closer.

Julian didn’t understand what was happening until he was already on his feet. His head swam. He was unsteady, but together the men helped him off the table, across the floor and through the door.

“We have several bedrooms here,” his new Manager said. “I’m sure you’d prefer a bed to the table.”

Julian grunted, concentrating on staying upright.

“Sasha, here, will get you some new clothes and a bath. If you’re feeling well enough, you can join us for dinner at eight.” The man gestured with his chin, “We eat back in that room. I’m sure you’ll be able to find it.”

“My thanks,” Julian managed, overwhelmed. Things were changing quickly. He’d never dined with a Manager. He’d missed out on his only opportunity during his trials. Was this how he treated all his Employees?

“How long was I out?” he asked.

It was the white-haired man who answered, “Two days.” He was holding Julian’s other arm, but the touch of his hand wasn’t nearly as comforting as the Manager’s. He had a wiry constitution and strong fingers. The last man, Sasha, had both hands on Julian’s back. If Julian fell, the Dog was probably the only one strong enough to break his fall.

“Used a sled,” Sasha added, his breath brushing passed Julian’s ear.

Julian shivered. He hadn’t been around this many people since he was a child. And training had not been the most pleasant of circumstances. Despite his Manager’s words, he still felt a nagging sensation.

Was he missing something? Were things not as they appeared? Julian was usually very good at reading people.

He glanced at his Manager, seeing his smooth cheek. It was almost dinnertime. This man cared for himself and shaved close. His clothes were standard issue, black with silver buttons. Julian did not see a weapon. Either he trusted Sasha and the white-haired man to keep him safe or he had hidden the weapon well.

They stopped in front of a door. Sasha kept his hand on Julian’s back, but the other men let go so he could turn himself and pass through the doorframe. There was an enormous four-post bed against the far wall. It took up most of the space, a comforter lying on top. Julian thought it looked like heaven.

“Lay down, rest,” his new Manager ordered. “Sasha will bring the tub and I’ll send the girl with hot water. After your bath, you can rest some more. If you miss our meal, I’ll be sure to send something for you.”

Julian let them lead him to the comforter and they helped him to sit down. He wouldn’t have been able to make it on his own.

“Sasha, give Julian a hand,” the Manager ordered, heading out the door. The white-haired man followed in his wake, shooting Julian a skeptical glance before he disappeared. With practiced motions, the Dog used his knife to cut Julian’s bloody shirt from his body. It was a novel experience. Julian had never let anyone near him with a blade.

“I’ll get the tub,” the man said and left him alone.

Julian lay back mildly disappointed. He’d forgotten the mattresses in Eganene were stuffed with straw. Thankfully, his pillow was down, as was the comforter. He let himself sink in.

He didn’t hear Sasha bring the tub, nor the girls bringing the water. When he didn’t wake for dinner, the women returned. Softly, they cut the rest of his clothes off his body and then bathed him with sponges, rubbing the blood and dirt off his skin. When they were done, they dressed him in the fresh clothes. Julian slept through it all.

He woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs. His stomach was hard and uncomfortable. Since becoming Employed, he’d enjoyed regular meals. This was probably the longest time he’d gone without eating. He took his time to sit up, noticing that he was clean and in new clothes.

It was too bad he’d missed the meal with his Manager. He hoped there would be others. He’d needed to rest and recover. Although his head still ached, he no longer felt like he was going to be sick. Better yet, the world had stopped spinning.

He unwrapped the bandage around his head, noting the caked blood. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he was on the mend. On the bedside table, he found fresh bandages and used them. He had a huge lump on the back of his head and his skin was split with a deep four-inch gash.

Maybe he would get a chance to kill the girl after they were done with her, he thought.

It depended on who she was. If Peter had the Radcliff witch, then her execution would be a historic affair. In that case, he’d be happy just to be in attendance. Julian had spent enough time chasing after the little brat to want resolution. He could drink some whiskey for Thom and say a toast for his poor, dead friend.

Julian wiped his eyes. He wasn’t crying. His eyes just did that. The food on his bedside table was cold and he resisted eating it. Over the last years, he’d grown used to a certain level of class. Earth had done that to him.

Sometimes he imagined living there, permanently. He and Thom had talked about it. They’d been learning a lot, especially in the recent years, about how that world worked. They could have fit in, disappeared among the billions of people and made a great life. They might have done it, had they been sure of the Family’s response.

Thom didn’t believe that the Family would let them go. Julian had conceded that he was probably right. He’d dug a bit, curious at how many other Eganese were on Earth, but his contacts struggled to provide much information. Julian knew they were out there, but it was impossible to know.

But if the others weren’t after the Radcliff girl? Then what were they on Earth for? And what could be more important than securing her? He knew nothing of the Family’s plans outside of acquiring the witch. The girl had to be the priority. If she came into her power, then the Resistance would pose a true threat for the first time in almost two decades.

There was a soft knock on the door and maid entered, dressed traditionally in tan and white. She wasn’t a Yila. Julian felt a flash of disappointment. He had a soft spot in his heart for their kind. Still, she was pretty.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked her.

“Two days, Sir,” she replied.

“Another two days!” he said. “Did you bathe and dress me?”

“I helped,” she whispered, never meeting his eyes.

Julian smiled. “What were your instructions?”

“To serve you, fetch whatever you needed and make you comfortable.”

“Tell me of your Master,” he commanded.

She shifted her feet, her slippers sliding along the polished floor.

“Did he tell you not to speak to me?” Julian asked, knowing the answer. “Does he not trust me in his house?”

The girl’s shoulders shook, “Of course not, Sir. What…what is it you are asking me?”

“Tell me of your Master,” Julian said again, patiently. “I wish to know of my benefactor so that I can thank him appropriately.” The girl looked up for a moment and Julian smiled.

“How long have you been in his employment?” he began. It was easier to start with simple things.

“Six years,” the girl said.

“Where were you from originally?”

“A day’s walk from Delphi.”

“Is that where we are now? Delphi?”

The girl nodded. “We are outside the city. This building is one of the old ones.”

Julian approved. His new Manager must have taken a church or monastery as his home. Julian found the old buildings to be much more stable than the newer ones. “Sit down,” he told the girl.

She hesitated, looking like she wanted to bolt, but did as he said. Julian pulled a chair across from her and sat. “I’m glad you decided to speak with me. It has been a long time since I’ve had the chance for a pleasant conversation.”

The girl dipped her chin, not meeting his eyes.

“What is your name?”

“Opia,” she whispered.

“Tell me Opia, do you like working for your Master? Is he kind to you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “He is a fair Master. I would rather be here than elsewhere.”

Julian hid his surprise. “Of course,” he murmured.

The girl trembled, whispering to herself, “So terrible.”

Julian watched her without speaking. He had no idea what she was talking about, but whatever it was, he wanted to find out. The girl crossed and recrossed her legs, fidgeting in place, but Julian said nothing. Silence was sometimes the best way to get information.

“My cousin disappeared a few months ago,” Opia admitted. She was ringing her hands, twisting them in her lap so that her fingers pulled and tugged at one another.

“I’m so sorry,” Julian said. He said it with feeling and leaned in towards her. Practice had taught him that a calm, caring voice could open doors faster than an angry one. “Is there anything I can do?”

The girl looked up, hope blossoming in her eyes, “I…”

“You can tell me,” he coached. “I have helped others before.”

He kept a straight face, but it was funny. The girl would interpret that how she wanted and Julian would never have to admit to anything specific. People were so gullible. You hung a little sweet out and they never failed to swallow it whole.

“Really? I know it is impertinent to ask, but…do you really think you could…” She trailed off, suddenly uncertain.

“I do, but you will have to tell me everything. Your Master and I will be traveling south and I may not have much time. If I am going to help you, I need to know everything.”

“What do you need to know?”

“First, I need to know about your Master. I need to be careful, make sure I can honor my Employment and help you at the same time.”

“I know he disagrees with what they are doing,” she breathed. “I’ve heard him talk about how wrong it is.”

“What did he say?” Julian asked. “Be as specific as possible.”

“It was at dinner, Sir,” Opia began. “I was serving wine and the Master was making plans for the trip south. They called him, you see. He didn’t have a choice.”

“Who called him?”

Opia shuddered, “The Council.”

“Impressive,” Julian said. “Did your Master say why he was called?”

“No,” she answered, “but he wasn’t happy about it. I think there is going to be a big meeting. He was listing things that he wanted to talk about and his men were writing notes.”

“I didn’t understand many of them,” she continued, “but he said he disagreed with what they were doing at the Facility. My cousin has been missing for almost a month now. If she’s still there, she doesn’t have much time.”

Julian made his face look sad, “I see. Does no one return?”

The girl shook her head, “No one that I know of. Sometimes people say they see the girls heading south.”

“Give me a picture of your cousin,” Julian replied. “I can’t make you any promises, but I can keep an eye out for her, see if I can help if the time comes.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir!” the girl cried, throwing herself out of her chair and wrapping her body around his feet.

“Sit up,” Julian said as kindly as he could. He didn’t need her groveling, he needed her talking. “Tell me about the other men, the ones who work for your Master.”

“Leo, is the white-haired one. He and the Master know each other well, from before the…the witches were deposed. He isn’t cruel and he keeps his room clean.”

“What does he do for your Master?” Julian asked.

“I’m not sure I know, specifically,” Opia answered. “He always attends the Master’s meetings. Sometimes he goes away for days or weeks at a time. When he returns, the Master always calls a meeting right away.”

“And the other one, Sasha?”

“He guards the Master whenever he leaves the house. He leaves the house sometimes, too, but the Master stays inside.”

Julian nodded. No surprise there. Sasha was trusted muscle and Leo was the Master’s Lieutenant. “Are there others who live here?”

Opia shook her head, “Many people come and go. The Master has many friends and business relations who call on him. They don’t stay long, though. A night or two at the most. The Master keeps them in meetings far past midnight. We draw straws for those shifts. Sometimes they last all night.”

“Thank you,” Julian said, dismissing her. “If I think of anything more, would you be available to come to me?”

The girl curtsied, “Of course.”

Julian smiled. It would be good to get his blood pumping again.