“No, sir. As soon as you sent word for me, I was out on the island.”
“I can confirm,” I replied. “Now. On to business. I know Draven spoke to you earlier.”
“Yes,” Starlin said. “Come with me.”
We followed him into the barracks, a series of rectangular glass cubes, neatly positioned in a mosaic-like pattern. The private quarters were obscured by a smoky tint, but the common rooms, the mess hall, and the weapons and training halls were transparent and quite busy, from what I could tell.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised by the number of uniforms present,” I said, glancing around.
The soldiers noticed us from beyond the glass walls. They all stopped what they were doing and watched us as we advanced toward the far end of the barracks, where Starlin’s office was. He led this unit, and thus had his own workspace away from the grunts. Some of the looks we got made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention—but I couldn’t be overly suspicious. Starlin was a hard-ass, and he treated his subordinates accordingly. Those stony expressions could very well be a part of who they were, now that they’d been placed under his command. Starlin led his people with an iron fist.
“You and me both, Taeral,” Starlin replied. “It started shortly before the first fire fae explosions.”
“Why? Did it happen here, too?” I asked.
“No. Which is why it irked me.”
“Then, what did they tell you?” I replied.
I didn’t like the look on Eva’s face one bit. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes darted left and right. I caught a glimpse of her snake-like tongue slipping out to catch the scents. I raised my eyebrows at her, and she shook her head, as if quietly telling me not to worry about it. How could I not? Things were bad enough as they were, and I’d been living with a secret, inner fear that I might come down with the same affliction as my fellow fire fae. The only thought that gave me some comfort was the fact that I was still half jinni. That had to count for something, or so I hoped.
“They said it was part of the new protocol and told me to just follow orders,” Starlin said, his tone dry and clipped. He hated such replies from his superiors. “Hey, at least we’ve got military forces on site, if something crazy happens.”
“Did Draven give you details as to what we’re looking for, specifically?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, something about a museum transport from way too long ago.” Starlin sighed. “I had all the transport logs from the year he specified brought to my office. I’ll search through and give you what you need.”
“Thank you, Starlin. It means a lot,” I said.
He smiled. “Not a problem, Taeral. Whatever it takes to stop your people from dying. I get it.”
His office was quite spacious, with smoky glass walls. The double doors stayed open after we went in, and I wanted to ask Starlin if leaving them like that was a good idea, when I noticed Leffe was gone.
Herakles followed my confused gaze, then frowned at me. “Where’d he go?”
“Who?” Starlin asked as he stopped in front of his desk.
“Leffe. I didn’t see him leave,” I said.
“Meh. He’s a wispy little thing. I’ll chew his ass later,” Starlin replied. “Listen, I didn’t get a chance to look through these logs, since the request came in at such a short notice, so I hope you won’t mind if I take some time to browse through them.”
“Take as long as you need,” I said.
The air felt thicker than usual. Maybe it had to do with this place being a contained environment. This was a closed space with a constant supply of oxygen. Plus, we were pretty deep underwater, so there had to be some pressure at play, as well.
Starlin bent down and lifted one of the boxes that had been delivered for our visit. “If there was a museum transport from Persea, it would definitely be here. This happened long before my time, mind you, so, sorry if I don’t know which of these logs has it.”
Varga’s eyes glimmered gold as he scanned the box. He’d learned a neat trick recently, as a sentry. He’d learned to adapt his True Sight to read through scrolls, directly. It had taken a while for him to get really good at it, but he seemed to have struck some kind of gold, as he smiled.
Starlin was about to pull one of the parchment rolls out, ready to dig in, when Varga pointed at the box. “It’s on the bottom. Third from your right.”
The statement left Starlin looking befuddled. “How do you know? I haven’t—”
Something whizzed past my head and pierced Starlin’s throat. Blood glistened around the slim projectile. My heart stopped for a moment. He never got to finish his sentence. The poisoned arrow was quick and effective. The skin around the entry point turned black, and Starlin collapsed. My stomach dropped with him.
Someone had just killed my friend.
Amelia
I didn’t even register the arrow whizzing past my head.
Only when Starlin collapsed, did I realize what was going on. In an instant, we all moved back and away from the wide-open double doors. Leffe was gone. Starlin was dead. And we had no idea who’d killed him.
Varga’s eyes flicked all around. Herakles and Raphael drew their swords. I took mine out, though my hands trembled as I gripped it tight. Taeral’s lighters flipped on, producing two perfectly round orange fires. Eva had her twin long knives ready, as well. Riza disappeared.
What is she…
Before I could finish the thought, eight masked attackers came in. They were clad in black silk, with hoods and porcelain masks, which served to obscure the lower halves of their faces. I caught glimpses of symbols carved into their foreheads, still healing and dark red. They carried swords, and two of them had short-distance crossbows mounted on their wrists, loaded with what had to be poisoned arrows.
Taeral didn’t stop to talk to them. He charged them, the rage caused by Starlin’s death practically oozing out of him like black ectoplasm out of an angry spirit—the stuff of movies I’d found comfort in as a human. He launched multiple fireballs at them, but they ducked and charged us, full force.
I wound up defending myself from two of them at once. I blocked their sword hits with mine, left and right, my movements swift and fluid. This was very much like riding a bike. All the time I’d spent with my eyes in books didn’t cancel out any of the grueling training that my father had put me through.
Varga used his sentry abilities to induce a stinging headache into one of his opponents, then Herakles came up behind the guy and slit his throat. Whoever these people were, they had something to do with our Hermessi problem. I knew it. The symbols confirmed it. But they weren’t fire fae, and that scared me more, because it meant that others were involved, somehow.
Riza reappeared behind one of the attackers and drove her sword through his back. Raphael tore into the others, darting around the desk as he delivered nearly fatal blows through every enemy torso he encountered.
A couple died in the process. I dodged a hit, then paid it back in kind with a lateral slash of my sword. Blood sprayed out and spattered my face. Make that four dead.