I didn’t think I could say anything to that. Most of my near-brushes with tragedy couldn’t compare to Raiya’s. So I just leaned forward and listened intently, squeezing her hand as she continued.
“They kept me at the American embassy, since I spoke English. And then, a week later, Grandpa Odd showed up. He had married an American long ago, and had been living in the States as an English teacher. He grew concerned when he couldn’t get a hold of his son, who was my father. So they discharged me to him, and I’ve been with him ever since.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“We moved in with Rachel and Aunt Letty soon after we got back to America. A social worker saw me arrive with him at school. Grandpa grumbled but accepted that he is terribly old,” Raiya said with a small laugh. “Letty tried to get him to go to a retirement home a couple of times, but he never stayed. I’m not even sure how old he is some days, even if he is still pretty lucid.”
I snorted.
Raiya gave me a proud look. “He’s the reason I did so well in Mrs. Night’s class last year.”
“I can well believe that,” I said. “It certainly wasn’t because of Mrs. Night.”
“Come on, she’s a nice lady.”
“Doesn’t make her a good teacher.”
“Good students make good teachers,” she argued.
“Well, it’s still English. Even a good teacher probably isn’t able to make me like it. Even if Grandpa Odd was teaching,” I insisted.
Raiya took the smart road on that argument and changed topics. She smiled into her coffee mug. “He’s part of the reason I have an interest in the arts, too.”
I thought of her moniker, Starry Knight, and recalled meeting her by a mural of Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night before one of our battles with the Sinisters. “I should’ve guessed,” I murmured. “So he introduced you to painting?”
“Technically, Rachel was the one who suggested painting for me once I came here.”
Reaching out, she showed me her wrist, the one which was marked nearly the same as mine; the Emblem of the Prince glittered, a silver shadow on her skin. Hiding the mark was a bracelet, the one I first saw when she showed up at Central for the first time.
She pointed toward the bracelet. “Rachel gave this to me when I came here. She made me feel not quite so alone.”
“But you still keep secrets from her,” I pointed out. “Doesn’t that make you feel more alone?”
“Sometimes,” Raiya admitted, ruefully and reluctantly. “But we all have secrets.” She glanced over at Grandpa Odd as he sat down on his stool by the coffee bar, obviously deep in thought. Or maybe asleep.
*☼*
I could forgive Raiya—again, it seemed—for keeping Grandpa Odd’s real identity from me. She obviously loved the man who had comforted her and took her in when she had no one else; it wasn’t a huge leap for me to see she wanted to honor his request, even if it did mean plaguing me with esoteric taunts and overly-blown literary devices.
Besides, I had secrets from her, too. At least, I was pretty sure I did.
“Yes,” I muttered to myself as I keyed in the code to my mother’s work computer, “we all have secrets.”
Fortunately for me, my mother’s master password was not one of them. I’d known it for years, and that knowledge had come in handy years before I thought dementia would set in.
I scrolled through Cheryl’s files. If someone had told me earlier that I would be ruffling through my mother’s massive collection of paperwork and documents on my way out from work, I would’ve been less surprised by the impulse to do just that.
It made sense, I decided. “After all, if I am going to fight demons and seal away Sinisters,” I grumbled to myself, “I might as well live dangerously.”
Months earlier, when I set out to find the connection between Dante and the Apollo City government, I wasn’t sure what I would discover. But I was pretty sure I would find something, and in all the weeks and days and shifts I’d been looking, in all the piles of files and rackets of reports, I hadn’t found anything.
Dante had told me before, in a rare situation where he assumed I was under Cheryl’s tutelage, that he worked for a security consulting company called “Otherworld.” Ever since then, I’d been dying to find it.
Of course, Dante had told me, as a prisoner in one of SWORD’s no doubt various black sites, that SWORD was an international company with no one clear affiliation, but they were supported by others around the world as they worked with the supernatural, the paranormal, etc.
I took that to mean they were paid a lot of money.
“And that means,” I muttered, “there has to be a paper trail here somewhere.”
There was a shuffling sound outside of my mother’s office. I froze and stopped breathing.
Silence has an eerie way of being suffocating. During the next few moments, I felt my heart rate rapidly rise.
Thank goodness I left the lights off.
After several more frightening moments, I gradually resumed my search. To be on the safe side, I went through a memorized script of what to say if I was caught.
My treachery against my mother was instantly rewarded when I saw the records from City Hall’s last fiscal year. Just around the time Dante had shown up, I thought with a grin.
My grin collapsed into a frown as I read through the statements. There was a huge payment from the Skarmastad Foundation to City Hall listed under “security consultation.”
As confused as I was, I nearly shouted in triumph. After months of searching, there was no evidence that suggested that Dante and his semi-imaginary company had been hired by the City.
Because they weren’t, I now realized. The Skarmastad Foundation had been sending money to City Hall for security consultations. That meant that the Skarmastad Foundation was the one who had technically hired Otherworld, or more likely SWORD.
The Skarmastad Foundation was already working with both SWORD and City Hall, I recalled. They were the ones who were keeping the meteorite and tracking all the outer-dimensional radiation flowing around the town.
That has to be it, I thought as the pieces began to fall together.
Immediately, a sociopathic sense of appreciation settled on me. The government had been paid off by a private company to hire a loose-cannon operation to take care of the company’s interests, an operation that would then in turn use the private company’s resources, giving them a financial kickback.
City Hall would get money in, they could look good while still denying all charges if there was any trouble, and they reaped the benefit of working with the Skarmastad Foundation’s resources and SWORD/Otherworld’s manpower. Obviously, Otherworld would get hired to investigate, and it seemed to be right up their ally, with the special concerns of the supernatural and the power that came with it.
It was similar to a building company funding terrorists to blow things up and then having the terrorists pay for the lobbying fees it took for the government to hire the building company to rebuild the city.
But what was in it for the Skarmastad Foundation? That was the only piece I wasn’t entirely sure of. I knew enough from TV and movies to know that they likely just wanted the political maneuverability.
“Still, that is genius,” I muttered, quickly making a copy and sending it to Mikey’s email. I figured that if anyone would be protected from SWORD’s wrath, it would be him. “That is one huge story. Too bad Patricia Rookwood’s out of commission for a while; I could’ve used her prestige as a member of the local press.”
Recalling how the Skarmastad Foundation was also responsible for Mikey’s “special medicine,” I decided it was best, as a safety, and to show Aleia, Mary, and Elysian, to take a picture of the screen with my phone.
Of course, I would need more proof. So far, all my evidence was based on my own experiences and only a few concrete connections. Most of which only I seemed to know about, so it would do me no favor to call attention to myself.
I’
ll need to get copies of the Skarmastad Foundation’s files.
I recalled their address from the label on Mikey’s medicine. I wasn’t exactly sure where it was, but I knew it was in the downtown area, not too far down from the hospital.
Another sound hummed from outside the office. I quickly closed the files and ducked under the desk as footsteps sauntered down the hall.
☼10☼
Connections
The growing lump in my throat matched the bubble of fear in my chest. My stress shot up again as another pair of footsteps turned the far corner and joined in with them.
“Dante,” a voice called out. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Stefano,” Dante answered.
I’d recognize his voice anywhere, after dealing with it enough in the past months. I swiveled around in Cheryl’s chair and tucked my legs up, so I was unable to be seen dancing in the mix of shadows and light in her office.
“I heard about Patricia,” Dante continued.
“Yes,” Stefano confirmed. “I was hoping she would have gotten us that information before she had her soul sucked out.” He laughed, forcibly, as he added, “I guess it was a shame, but only to be expected that her soul would get taken up by demons, especially after reading some of her past editorials.”
What’s Stefano talking about?
Mayor Mills hadn’t struck me as the superstitious type when I first met him months ago. How would he know about Patricia’s “real” fate, anyway? Wouldn’t he have seen her as another victim of the sleeping sickness?
He’d certainly given me that impression before.
“I know her skill was why you wanted her on the case,” Dante said, “despite my recommendation not to include her.”
“She was blackmailing me,” Stefano admitted. “Had some stuff on me from twenty years back, believe it or not.”
“Oh, I believe it,” Dante assured him, probably too easily, because I heard Stefano choke on a response. “But we can’t move further on the Flying Angels’ case until we know for sure who they are,” Dante was saying, interrupting my suspicious thoughts.
Covered in darkness, I rolled my eyes. Why was Stefano actually worried about the case Apollo City was pursuing against Starry Knight and Wingdinger?
“With this, and the other setback at Lakeview, we can’t sustain these losses, Dante.”
“What do you want of me?” Dante asked. “That kid with the blog is stuck in the hospital for severe trauma. There’s nothing we can do while he’s there, and he’s the only lead we have left.”
“Mikey,” I half-whispered to myself. A shiver went down my spine.
A new, terrifying thought hit me. What if Dante, in prescribing him them medication, was actually protecting Mikey? It wasn’t like Dante would know that Raiya’s power couldn’t heal him. I slipped down onto the floor and crawled closer to the door so I could hear their conversation better.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that we can’t do nothing, Dante—”
“Patricia Rookwood was the best investigative reporter in town,” Dante interjected. “And she wasn’t able to get it out of him. That should be proof enough that we’re just going to have to wait this one out for a bit.”
Stefano grumbled, surprising me. When I first met him, he’d been such a jolly character.
Was he always this bad?
“I’m surprised Cheryl’s not beating it out of him,” Stefano admitted a moment later.
“She’s married to his doctor,” Dante gruffly replied. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The defense will bring up a conflict of interest.”
“Why?” Stefano demanded. “Someone’s marital bliss shouldn’t stand in the way of our cause. Can’t we get her off the case?”
I nearly laughed. Cheryl would’ve likely sued him if he tried that.
“You can suggest it to her,” Dante said with a sigh. “After all, she’s on your payroll.”
Dante had been friends with my parents, I remembered, recalling how he’d mentioned my dad once. There was also the matter of that one dinner at my house, where Dante had come. I hadn’t been there; I’d invited Gwen, and both my parents were there, but I had been out with Starry Knight.
Correction, I guess he is friends with Mark and Cheryl.
“I thought this case wasn’t such a big deal to you before,” Dante added, after a long moment of silence. “Why the sudden change of heart? The polls haven’t changed that much in recent weeks.”
“That’s my business,” Stefano snapped, “and you’ll do well to remember that.”
“Certainly, sir,” Dante agreed readily, but I knew him well enough (to my disgust) to recognize his placating tone, even while I was smooshed against the floor on my stomach, trying to hear through the crack at the bottom of a door.
“Find the superheroes,” Stefano ordered. “I don’t care about the demons anymore. Find the superheroes, and then we’ll take care of them.”
“In court,” Dante clarified.
“Yes, yes, of course, in court,” Stefano huffed. I heard him turn on his heel and head down the hall once more. “Tell Cheryl to come and see me next time you see her. I want an update on the Flying Angels case by Monday.”
“Yes, sir,” Dante repeated.
There was silence for a long moment. I thought I was once again alone when I heard Dante mutter, “You pompous little puppet.”
And then he walked out, slamming the door behind him.
My breath slowly left me.
Dante’s not as chummy with Stefano as I thought.
“Well,” I said, speaking into the open air, “neither am I.”
And then it was my turn. I hit the print button, stood up, and headed for the window. Once the printer was finished pushing out its publication, I was ready to go.
Pressing my mark, my fire-sheathed wings sprouted with determination.
I was going to ask Dante some questions of my own. It was time to find out more specifics to this quest of mine. If I was going to keep Apollo City safe—whether from supernatural beings of inconceivable horror or a power-hungry suit—I had to be thorough.
I carefully slipped out of the building and took off, heading for the side entrance to City Hall.
I heard his shoes on the pavement outside shortly after siding up to the building.
This was my chance to get to Dante.
Hiding in the shadows, I waited until the exit door shut before stepping forward.
Only to nearly trip and fall as another voice called out to him.
“Dante Salyards,” the voice called. “You and I have some things to discuss.”
I jerked to the side to see Elysian falling out of the night sky off to the side, swiping up Dante as he went down.
What’s Elysian doing here?!
“What are you doing here?” Dante asked, irritating me as he echoed my thoughts.
I said nothing, just slipping deeper into the shadows for the moment.
“It’s time that we had a talk,” Elysian said. “After all, you only seem to show up when it’s useful to you, and I’ve decided to change that.”
“I’m quite satisfied by our current level of communication,” Dante said with a grunt as he struggled to unwrap himself from Elysian’s tail.
“That’s because you’ve been calling the shots.”
“I’m well connected to the other agents,” Dante assured him. “They’ll be here soon to back me up if I need it.”
“Then I’ll work quickly.” Elysian’s sharp-toothed grin would have made a lesser man weep. “I want to know if you’ve been in contact with my brother.”
“I didn’t know there were other changeling dragons down here,” Dante replied, still trying to struggle free.
“The kid’s told me that you’ve mentioned you know a lot about the fallen Stars,” Elysian continued. “I want to know how.”
“Years of observation and extensive training,” Dante answered, easily enough. “SWORD has been around for a long time.”
>
“Too long, by the sound of it.” Elysian bore down on him. “Who is your leader?”
“The Director is a highly accomplished leader,” Dante said. “And she has been, for the last twenty years or so. But I hardly see what this has to do with you or your brother.”
“My brother was a changeling dragon with more power than me,” Elysian explained. “I was wondering if he managed to find a human owner of his own to manipulate and control. SWORD seems like a good fit, especially if they have been around for as long as you’re insinuating.”
I felt my brow furrow over in anger. A human owner? To manipulate and control?! He better not try that funny stuff with me.
Dante shook his head. “I don’t have direct contact with the Director. SWORD was started as an international business group, to detect and control the supernatural.”
“As a way of eliminating the competition, perhaps?” Elysian asked. “You believe in power. Why would it be so hard to see it be used for evil, all without your knowledge, especially with one as clever as my brother at the helm?”
Dante shook his head. “I’ve never seen him. I know a lot about the Stars and the Celestial Kingdom. I’ve never met a Draco, or another changeling dragon.”
“Starry Knight told me the same thing,” Elysian said, further making me blister over in frustration. “With the demons hiding from us and our capabilities to detect them diminished, it is imperative we find out who is behind them. Draco is one of the only ones who would know how to hide from us, and he is in a position to teach them.”
“You’re making assumptions. Maybe he just ran away,” Dante suggested. “Or maybe—”
“Maybe what?” Elysian snorted.
“You’re a dragon,” Dante scoffed. “You could have been teaching the demons how to avoid you if you really wanted.”
I remembered before that Alora warned me Elysian might be a suspect.
“It was not me,” Elysian spat.
Recalling Elysian’s weakness for sweets and his temper, I was inclined to agree with him. Elysian did not have the self-discipline to be a double agent.