The captain scurried back, stumbling over twice in his hasty retreat. Fallo hissed at him as he fled, causing the terrified man to run even quicker.
“For the sake of preserving peace between our two nations I implore you both to please return to your quarters until this mess is sorted out and your daughter is found. I do not wish for any bloodshed.”
Fallo hissed before turning away, his large frame smashing desks and chairs as he scuttled from the Great Hall, to angry to care for the destruction he left in his wake.
******
It was late evening. Darius gazed out across the coast. Retreating into the horizon he could see the small island of Naris and turning his head he could see the sun dipping low against the sea. He sighed. He was glad to be leaving the small port city behind for the possibility of unseen forces pursuing them. But to his dismay they were not heading back to Marrich.
Instead they had boarded a train for Newport. Micca had informed them that Lord Rilario was in hiding at a small seaside village further up the east coast. He had been there two days ago and was adamant the minister would still be there.
But Newport was at least eleven hours away by train and even longer by any other mode of transport. It would be early morning before they arrived.
Micca had put up a lengthy protest about not taking them, sobbing in tears that he was endangering his and Lord Rilario’s life by returning to Newport. He said that during his last visit he had been followed when he left the minister, which had ended in a chase. Micca had managed to escape and had not seen the three men who gave flight to him since, but he feared that other agents of the Senate or the royal family would be hanging around in case he returned. Ultimately Terry had threatened to turn him over to her father again if he did not do what he was asked. Micca swiftly changed his mind.
They had managed to get a hold of a private cab in the classic locomotive with a nice little table and comfortable chairs. Not many people travelled such distances at this time of day.
Micca stared across the table at her while Terry gazed absently out the window at the sunset soaked landscape. “Does it make you feel big?” he asked, catching her attention.
She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You. Abusing you power to get what you want.”
“It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing but considering you seemed to do nothing but lie to my friends you didn’t really leave me with any choice.”
“Ha, right, whatever you say.” He folded his arms.
“I don’t care what you think. You can’t say anything, considering it was your lying that got you flung out of the colony in the first place.
He leant forward, fixing her with his gaze. “We’ve never met properly before today. How do you know who I am?”
She held his gaze as she leant across the table. “I may have only been ten years old but I was old enough to remember you being thrown out. I remember most of the twenty million people who live in our colony. Most of them not personally, but by name and face and smell like you do. I may have been away for a long time but my memory’s absolutely fine.”
He held her gaze. “I assumed you would have been just a little too young to remember me.”
“You should never assume anything.” She said, sitting back.
“I don’t think it’s fair, you using your strength and status like that to get what you want to know, especially since we are both exiled and by law have no more civil rights and rank than I do. You have no authority over me.”
She leant across the table again, lowering her voice. “Yet you sang like a birdie once I told you too. It doesn’t really matter what people say I can and can’t do. You are still predisposed to answer me when I ask you too, whether you want to or not. It’s a primeval force bred into you through millions of years.”
“Fuck you.”
Terry sat back.
“Micca, stand up.”
His eyes widened in horror. “No...” he muttered as he shot to his feet. Darius shuffled away. Whatever was going to happen next he did not know but he didn’t want to sit that close to Micca when he found out.
“Draw your blades.”
“Please...” his body trembled as he struggled in resistance. The blades shot out.
“Now press the tips against your chin.”
Micca’s arms slowly folded upwards, his face contorted in pain as he fought against the compulsion within to obey. Darius and Connor watched on in horror. He felt the cold tips press against the soft skin of his throat. He gasped, his eyes welling with tears.
Darius and Connor watched on in muted terror. Neither had witnessed a spectacle like it before and neither was sure how to react, nor how it would end.
After what seemed like forever, Terry said, “Stop.”
The blades slid into his wrists and Micca slumped as if the invisible strings that had been attached to his body had been cut. He gasped heavily, his brow clammy with sweat. He was visibly shaken.
“How did you do that?” Connor asked, both amazed and terrified at the same time.
Terry shrugged. “I told you, it’s bred into every Alchemist.”
Connor looked to the wreck that stood before them and then Terry. “I never knew you could do that. So you’re saying you can control other Alchemists? How? Is it by pheromones or something?”
Terry rolled her eyes. “You make me sound like a lab rat.”
Connor shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “No, I didn’t mean it like that...”
“It’s not something I exactly go about telling everyone.”
Micca slumped into a seat. He glared at her defiantly despite what he had just endured. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife but Connor’s curiosity was piqued.
“Why have I never seen you do that before?” He asked Terry.
Inwardly Terry knew he had not seen her do it because she had never attempted the feat. Her father had once told her about the ability and on a few occasions Lyle had mentioned it in the years since her exile. But living in Edinburgh had never provided an opportunity to try it, that and lack of interest to ever try it. But Terry decided to keep that to herself for now lest she appeared weak in the eyes of Micca, who was already critical enough of her.
Instead she simply said while holding her gaze on Micca, “It’s not something I make a habit of doing.”
Micca said nothing, but continued to stare at her, his eyes burning brightly. Terry leant across the table, not intimidated by his evil looks. “Tell me I have no authority over you now.”
******
The King was restless. He paced about his quarters, digging his nails into clenched fists. He stopped momentarily at the sound of the door. Seeing it was his younger brother he continued.
“You summoned me?” Lyle asked.
“I take it there has been no word from my daughter?”
“No, my Lord but we did know this might happen. Hopefully it means that the person she went to meet is helping her to reach Rilario.”
Fallo stopped in his tracks. He sighed, his gaze focused at something on the floor that only he could see. “Probably brother but I can’t shake these feelings that it we sent her into a trap.” His gaze met Lyle’s, worry in his eyes. “I know I have not one shred of evidence to base that on but still I fear for my daughter...I’m beginning to think that we all should have gone.”
“I think you are winding yourself up about nothing. It’s like you said, you have nothing to go on. Terry is a smart girl and she has Connor and Darius with her as well. I think if anything happened they would have escaped.”
Fallo nodded, but he was still troubled. “I might be worrying too much, but can you blame me? I’ve only had her back a few days and now she is gone again. We have not even had time to bond.” He shook his head, “And it troubles me how...different she is.”
“Brother, you are being too hard on yourself. The last time you saw her she was only a teenager, all teenagers change as they grow up. Terry is no different.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean, she just seems...too human in her ways, how she thinks and how she acts.” He sat down. “I know you said you would look out for her and teach her our ways, a charge I believe you have carried out to the best of your ability and done a fine job at too but I still feel somehow spending so much time with the humans has changed her in a way which no amount of care or attention could have prevented.” He stood and began to pace again, restless. “It could be because of the injury to her head.” He shook his head. “She’s always been much more impressionable since it happened.”
“Fallo, I disagree.” Lyle said softly, “You know yourself how much she hated transforming into her primeval form when she was teenager and in fact there was a time when she resented being an alchemist and just wanted to be like everyone else around her. But as she’s got older she’s embraced her heritage and what she is. You should see her when we go hunting, her appetite is insatiable. And I have found her more and more frequently over the years shunning a human bed for sleeping in the caves below my estate in Edinburgh and she talks about you all the time.”
His eyes brightened. “She does?”
“Yes because you’re her father and she loves you.”
She gaze grew distant again, his eyes swelling. “Every inch of me cries to go and find her.”
“I know it’s hard but we have to be patient. We agreed to give her two days remember? If they are not back by then we will go find them.”
Fallo sighed. “I don’t know if me, or the Senate for that matter, can wait that long.”
******
Connor woke with a start. The conductor was shouting that they had arrived at their final destination and was duly tapping the glass window on each cabin with the butt of his baton. Connor stretched as the others came too.
“Are we there?” Darius quietly asked, rubbing his eyes.
Connor squinted out the window. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Right Micca, you know the way, right?” Terry said, rising.
He gave a curt nod but said nothing. They quietly filed out of the carriage.
Newport was a lot different from Naris. Although both had ports, Newport had a much more historic air to its architecture. Most of the buildings had stood for centuries, their eroded edges adding to the sense of antiquity of the place. But they stood tall and clearly in use, despite their age.
The majority of buildings on Naris were made from sandstone and usually stood at no higher than three storeys at most and designed for function rather than form like in Newport. The large stones lining the windowsills and roof edges had been carved - sometimes with intricate detail – with patterns. Some ranged from simple semi circular designs to the worn patterns of dragons and other mythological creatures. Terry found it ironic that it had been dubbed Newport despite how apparently ancient it was.
After leaving the train, Micca had led them down a series of winding back alleys where there were few people. Those that they did pass were often children on their way, Terry guessed, to school, based on the uniforms they were all wearing. Occasionally a group of them were escorted by a mother or two.
Looking back over his shoulder to make sure that the last flock of kids that passed were out with earshot Connor asked, “Where exactly are we going?”
“You would do well to keep your voice down.” Micca said sharply. “Like I said, there are people after me.”
“Who exactly?” Terry asked.
Micca sighed. “The Kamari Guard, who do you think?”
“I take it you were the one who gave Ladre the temporal technology?”
“Who?”
“Micca...”
“Alright, it was me.” He gave her a resenting look. “Happy?”
“Who’s Ladre?” asked Darius.
Micca sighed loudly. “Oh for goodness sake, your friend’s not exactly the brightest is he?”
“Friend’s being a bit generous...”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Darius looked away, stung by the remark but he said nothing.
Terry fell into step with Micca at the front. “And you didn’t answer Connor.”
“We’re almost there.”
A few minutes later Micca came to a halt, looking around before stepping into a tight alleyway. It was more a narrow gap between two buildings than anything else. The limited space forced the others to follow him into it in a single file.
Micca led them into a cellar. Once they were all on the stairwell, he shut the heavy iron door behind them and bolted it, plunging them into near darkness. The space he had led them into was a narrow affair with a low ceiling which was dimly lit by two lanterns, one on a solitary table which sat in the centre of the room; the other hanging from the far wall. The large barrels that lined the walls hinted that they were under a pub or bar of some sort.
Micca picked his way down the short flight of stone steps. “Ryan? Are you here?” he called, not too loudly. There was no reply. “He might be in one of the other rooms sleeping.”
Blades slid down Terry’s arms.
“What is it?” asked Connor.
But before she could answer a voice screamed, “Run Micca! Run!”
“It’s a trap!” he shouted, bolting for the stairs. As he did the doors leading into the far end of the room exploded open and armed men rushed into the cellar. At the same time the door leading to the surface was ripped from its hinges – the smell of hot, burning metal filling their nostrils.
Three Kamari appeared at the top of the stairs. Throwing Micca from the stairs and pushing Connor aside, Terry leapt forward, a swirl of blades about her. Then the men were lying dead.
“Hands up!” shouted one of the Kamari from the end of the cellar. Terry spun, throwing her arm forward. A shower of metal blades flew from it, catching the men in eyes, throats and body. Some fell silently, other tumbled screaming.
She leapt from the stairs and darted toward the disorientated men. In the short time between the foot of the steps and reaching the men, she was fully armoured, with her deadly blades at the ready. She stabbed two of the survivors in the chest as she walked passed. Stepping forward she snapped the neck of a Kamari who had fallen to his knees.
“Stop right there!” One of his injured comrades shouted, pointing his gun and firing. The bullet struck Terry square in the forehead, but she kept coming. Grabbing the man by the chest, she spun around and flung him into another group of them.
Connor had just sent a deadly wave of fire up the stairs, torching three Kamari who were daft enough to enter the same way their fallen comrades had entered. Darius cowered in the corner as he heard their agonising screams. One fell over the railing to the cellar floor, thrashing frantically as his skin burned ablaze.
The third man, unfortunately for Connor, was a fire elemental like him, rather than the water elementals he had just torched before they could react. The Kamari had found time to set himself on fire. He stood at the top of the stairs, ablaze and defiant. Connor readied himself, setting his palms on fire. The man suddenly fell to his knees and the flames rippling over his body died. Connor saw the silver blade protruding from his chest just before he fell forward down the stairs, forcing him to step aside.
Micca stood watching, rooted to the spot as his future queen laid waste to the two dozen men like a woman possessed. But she hadn’t finished once they were dead. Half a dozen of her tentacles emerged from her stomach. Stretching back their multiple mouth flaps, lizard-like tongues fired out, wrapping around bodies and dragging them into the waiting maws. They were devoured whole. Terry shut her eyes, as food and energy filled her.
Darius flinched as he heard bones crunching. In less than two minutes, the bloated tentacles had returned to their normal size, having destroyed the several corpses they had eaten. Then they retreated inside her. She licked her teeth in satisfaction, despite not a single morsel having passed over her lips.
Reaching up, she felt the wound the bullet had scored into her forehea
d. Using her thumb, she prized the flattened piece of metal out. It clinked as it hit the floor and her skin healed. That taken care of, she turned back to the others. Micca and Darius both stood mortified. Connor too looked shaken, but was a little more dignified in not staring back.
“What are you standing there for?” she asked before moving through one of the open doors.
Connor nudged Darius, who looked at him through teary eyes. “Come on.” He whispered, helping the young man to his feet.
Micca followed Terry into the other room. In the far corner she found a man lying motionless. He was bound and badly beaten, a black, bloody eye revealing where he had been struck moments before.