Island of Time, page 16
‘Allow me first to ask—’
‘No, Luca. I’m sorry, but no. We’ve done a good job of filling you in. No holds barred. Now it’s your turn. Is. Jackson. A. Senior. Talent?’
If Luca noticed the confrontational tone, he gave no sign. ‘There are a few accounts of Talents coming into their abilities this late in life. I assume Bernard Bouchon was one. Most accounts I have read suggest that when it happens, the Talent’s abilities remain stunted in their development. They find it almost impossible to break the bonds of logic and grow into their full potential.’
‘That absolutely does not fit with what I witnessed last night,’ Krys said.
‘There is one other possibility,’ Luca said. ‘Where there is a deep love between an Adept and an ungifted, when the Adept dies, they may pass on a portion of their power. It is rare, but it happens.’
Jackson replied, ‘Sylvie was not classed as an Adept.’
‘Your late wife also married an Interpol agent. The Institute’s examiners would have seen this as a punishable act. They might have quashed both her potential and her chances at further development.’ Luca shook his head. ‘The Institutes have much to answer for.’
Jackson was flooded by the old bitter fury. Sylvie’s rejected application for senior training had come just a few months before her death. All the old unanswered questions about her passing resurfaced. Sparked with rage for all they might have known together, had she lived.
Krys asked, ‘You OK there, partner?’
He did his best to shove it all aside. And nodded.
Luca asked, ‘Will you both please show me?’
Again, Jackson tested the air and found no hint of resistance. ‘I’ll go first.’
He extended his arm in the gunslinger’s motion, finding it easier to exert his will with that physical act.
Luca gasped aloud and jerked back in his seat. The shock was evident.
Jackson asked, ‘You OK?’
‘Yes. I … This is astounding.’
Jackson made the wand vanish. He said to Krys, ‘Your turn.’
Luca was more prepared this time, but they could both see he was rocked when Krys made the ring appear. ‘Remarkable. Before, I detected nothing. Now …’
Jackson said, ‘What is it?’
‘There is a certain flavor when I am in the presence of a senior Talent who is using his or her abilities. A unique signature. You both show this the instant your implements are revealed.’
‘So …’ Krys hesitated, then went on, ‘You haven’t heard of something like this before?’
‘Never.’ He asked them to reveal the implements together. He breathed several times, great shuddering breaths. ‘You complement one another. Together, the presence of arcane forces is far stronger.’
Jackson stowed his wand away. Krys did the same. Luca breathed in, out, tasting the air. Then, ‘One thing you should know about your acquisitions. Everything I’ve studied regarding the Ancients refers to how such magical implements and scrolls have what is called a “rightful position”. Once they are used, once the spellwork is done, they return to these assigned stations.’
Krys looked at Jackson, who said, ‘You’ve lost us.’
‘Their rightful position,’ Luca repeated. ‘It appears that the scrolls and artifacts become anchored to a particular spot. They are brought forth, they are used, and they return. No mention was ever made, in any record, of them actually being carried back.’
‘Hang on a second,’ Krys demanded. ‘Those artifacts just went away?’
‘That is how it appears to me,’ Luca replied.
‘You mean, of their own volition?’ A very real pain creased her features. ‘So what happens to my ring when we finish this investigation? You’re saying it might just go back? I can’t keep it?’
‘I have no idea,’ Luca replied. He lifted his cane. ‘I have had the use of this artifact for almost fourteen years. Through a countless series of quests.’
Krys subsided. ‘That helps. Not a lot. But some.’
When Jackson was certain that topic was closed, at least for the moment, he spoke the name. ‘Riyanna.’
Luca jerked a single nod. Or perhaps he just shuddered.
‘You said we were safe from another attack.’
‘And I was wrong.’
Krys asked, ‘Was she the gargoyle I demolished last night?’
In response, Luca rose to his feet. ‘Would you bring me my staff?’
Krys stood and walked to where it leaned against the wall by the stairs. When she handed it over, Luca touched the tip to his forehead, then ran it along the inside of Jackson’s arm. He released Jackson and made a slow circle around him, speaking in that slow deep monotone Jackson had last heard before Luca had read the vanished scrolls. The script along the staff’s length glowed and swam.
Luca leaned back, set the staff on the floor by his chair, and said, ‘Regrettably, Riyanna remains among the living. If she had been killed, the flavor of this spell would be different. I must apologize, Jackson. Profusely.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘It is anything but. The spells of every senior mage carry a particular signature. I should have sensed her work.’
Krys asked, ‘Why didn’t you?’
Luca slowly shook his head. ‘Riyanna. That woman has plagued me for years. But never did I think the Peerless would risk multiple assaults in a week. They have always valued secrecy above all else.’
Krys asked, ‘So what has changed?’
‘That is precisely the question I wish to ask. Could you both leave, please? I must cast the runes.’ But as Jackson started to rise, Luca halted them with, ‘Jackson, allow me to arrange a meal at your new home. Shall we meet there, say, in two hours?’
‘Make it three,’ Jackson said. ‘First, we need to report in.’
THIRTY-NINE
They drove to Krys’s home. Her apartment was small, which was hardly a surprise given the city’s high rents. On a square-foot basis, a nice rental inside Geneva’s old city cost as much as Manhattan’s upper east side. Krys had a living-dining area, a separate kitchen, and a bedroom that Jackson did not ask to see. It was high-ceilinged and freshly decorated and impossibly neat. French doors opened on to a narrow balcony whose wrought-iron railing overlooked a park. Children’s laughter drifted up from below as she positioned her laptop on the dining table. Jackson watched her code in for a secure and scrambled connection, then hesitate, her fingers poised over the keyboard. She asked, ‘Jackson, what do we say? I mean, how much are we going to tell them?’
‘Eventually, we give them the whole deal.’ Jackson drew a chair over beside hers and seated himself. ‘Right now, we’re making an after-incident report. Hold to just the essential elements.’
The computer gave the soft chime of connecting, then Chief Meyer’s face appeared. Her first words were, ‘Is this secure?’
‘And scrambled,’ Jackson replied. ‘We’ve had an incident.’
‘Let me see if Barker is available. Hold one.’ The screen went blank.
Jackson offered, ‘Why don’t you let me handle this first verbal report. You can observe how it’s done, be ready for the next time.’
‘Sounds good.’
When the screen lit up again, it was split so as to include Commandant Barker as well. Jackson launched straight in, keeping strictly to their meeting with Roger Valente and the attack in the countryside. He made no mention of anything related to their implements. Nor did he detail Riyanna’s attempt to use him as a weapon against Luca. Both would have to wait. Jackson knew from experience that whenever new and unexpected magic appeared in an investigation, Brussels grew nervous. Their knee-jerk reaction was to pull the agents out of the field. Jackson did not want that to happen. Now was not the time to start talking about the treasures they secreted from a Swiss vault, or how those items had bonded with them both.
His report required six minutes and forty-one seconds. When he was done, Barker said, ‘Do I need to inform you that this conversation and everything related to the case remain strictly confidential?’
Jackson knew Barker intended the query mostly for Krys. He answered for them both, ‘No, ma’am, you do not.’
‘This case will carry a long half-life. Which means it must remain in-house. Eyes only. Permanently.’
Krys replied, ‘Understood, Commandant.’
‘All right. First, the attack you experienced during your return journey. For several years we have received unconfirmed reports of a group of Renegade Talents.’
Meyer added, ‘This goes far beyond individual Renegades studying the dark arts. This group is said to be organized and highly dangerous.’
‘Luca called them the Peerless,’ Jackson said. ‘He claims they are his sworn enemy.’
‘That is more than he has told any of us,’ Barker said. ‘Have him call me immediately.’
Meyer said, ‘Perhaps you should allow Jackson to handle this for the time being.’
Barker did not like it. But in the end, she said, ‘Luca Tami needs to understand how vital it is for us to receive a full report. This is the first direct evidence we have that the Peerless exist.’
‘That and the hospital attack,’ Krys added.
Barker shot her a measuring look, then demanded, ‘Luca Tami thinks the Peerless were behind that assault as well?’
‘He says there’s no question,’ Jackson replied.
‘It is absolutely crucial for Tami to report on what he knows about this group.’
‘Understood.’
Barker nodded once, twice, then said, ‘Moving on. For the past six months, our informers have reported a heightened state of turbulence inside the Institutes.’
Jackson had always assumed Interpol maintained clandestine sources inside the halls of magical power. But this was the first confirmation. ‘Which Institute?’
‘All seven,’ Bev Barker replied. ‘Whatever this is, it is global.’
‘You think this foment is tied to the Bouchon incident?’
‘Quite possibly. Luca Tami’s alert certainly suggests it. Which reminds me. It’s time to speak with his superiors and see if they have any new intel.’ She made a note on the pad, then asked, ‘Where was I?’
‘Global disturbances inside the Institutes.’
‘Remember what I said in our last conversation. From its very inception, Interpol has been assigned a confidential remit.’
‘Global checks and balances,’ Jackson said.
‘The world’s governments rely on our assistance to maintain the status quo,’ Barker went on. ‘Globally, there are at present some two hundred and seventeen thousand registered Talents. They represent a sizable force, but because they are spread more or less equally, they do not pose a significant threat to any specific nation or regime. Their role in times of conflict is limited by the same sort of treaties as apply to the nuclear deterrent, with one notable exception.’
‘Every country has access to magic,’ Jackson supplied.
‘We must maintain this balance of power,’ Chief Meyer said. ‘It all comes down to that.’
‘Very recently, we have managed to confirm what Interpol has long suspected,’ Barker continued. ‘Some Institute Directors feel Talents have been docile and obliging for too long.’
Jackson said, ‘“Docile” and “obliging” are not words I would use to describe Talents.’
Zoe Meyer said, ‘Some Institute Directors and their allies among the Adepts want to demand a leadership role in governments. All governments.’
Barker said, ‘You can see the havoc these scrolls represent.’
‘The power to go back and alter one element of our past, eradicate some opponent to stop them becoming a leading force in that nation’s affairs,’ Meyer said. ‘The results would be catastrophic.’
Barker said, ‘Our allies within national intelligence agencies have effectively been forced to share their intel because of the havoc these scrolls might cause.’
Jackson leaned back, recalling his first report, the lack of surprise shown by either woman, the way they had rushed to cut off the discussion. ‘Why are you telling us this now?’
‘You know the answer to that,’ Barker replied.
Krys was the one who replied, ‘You had to receive permission.’
‘Which was granted very reluctantly. But your Bouchon incident has confirmed their worst fears.’
His chief added, ‘Especially now that the original events have vanished from memory.’
‘That brought the nightmare legends from our distant past directly into the here and now,’ Barker agreed. ‘Your initial report would most likely have been filed and forgotten, except for the timing of these incidents.’
‘The details were too exact,’ Meyer said. ‘And you are too good an agent to have developed such an outlandish scheme.’
‘Again, I am grateful for your confidence,’ Jackson said.
Barker’s features might as well have been carved from Alpine granite. ‘You know what I am about to say, don’t you?’
Jackson nodded. ‘There are some governments who want to obtain the scrolls for themselves.’
‘Which can’t be allowed to happen,’ Barker said.
‘Roger that.’
Krys asked, ‘Are these governments responsible for the deaths of field agents?’
‘A question I only allow myself to ask in the dead of night,’ Barker replied. ‘And the answer is yes, quite possibly.’
Meyer said, ‘If any of this ever got out, the radical anti-magic parties could well be swept to power with a landslide mandate to bomb the Institutes and imprison all Talents who survive.’
‘Find the scrolls,’ Barker commanded. ‘By whatever means necessary. Destroy them. Those are your orders.’
FORTY
When the screen went blank, Jackson and Krys spent a few minutes standing on her balcony. It was just broad enough for two folding chairs and a small table. She had decorated the rim with flower boxes. It suggested a softer side that she kept well hidden around the job. Krys then excused herself, saying she wanted to dress up for the meal. When he asked why, she smiled and said that she thought gaining a power-ring was worth a little celebration.
Jackson took that as a clear alert that he needed to re-arm in the style department. He drove from her place to the men’s store and picked up the two outfits he had left for tailoring. While there, he reluctantly decided to purchase duplicates of what had been destroyed in the field.
When he arrived back at Rue Gambord, he went upstairs and showered and dressed, then walked outside and inspected the house. The entire front yard was fenced in a head-high steel-and-glass wall, whose upper edge was honed to a razor edge. He spotted motion sensors embedded in the grass. The rear yard was only about forty feet wide and ended at a sheer rock face rising to a high ridgeline. Jackson knew attackers could easily rappel down. The flat roof would make an effective point from which to launch an assault. Not to mention what a pair of compression grenades could do with all that bulletproof glass.
Krys arrived wearing a midnight-blue pantsuit of what she said was Shantung silk. Her tensile curves turned the modest outfit into a frame for her allure. Jackson patted himself on the back for not relying on his standard evening wardrobe of khakis and an unironed shirt. ‘You look great.’
‘It’s overkill, I know.’
‘No, no, you’re right. We need to mark the occasion.’ He led her into the kitchen and confessed, ‘I hope Luca tells the deli to pack some drinks in with the meal. All I’ve got is water and milk and coffee.’
‘Coffee would be great.’ She watched him prep the old apparatus and set it on the stove. ‘I haven’t seen one of those since I was a kid.’
‘It can’t be called an antique because it’s too ugly to have any value,’ Jackson said. ‘How do you take espresso?’
‘Same as the regular. Touch of milk.’
‘Coming up.’
She leaned against the counter. ‘Luca called me.’
That was enough to turn him around. ‘Really?’
‘I know. A first. He asked me how I’d feel about moving in here. With you.’
His movements slowed further. ‘Luca Tami. Called you. And said …’
‘He can’t set wards around my apartment. A couple of retired Talents live two floors below. He said they’d be bound to notice. And he repeated what he said earlier about our new powers being stronger when taken together.’
Jackson nodded. ‘That all makes sense.’
‘I asked him to let me speak with you about it.’ She crossed her arms. ‘What do you think?’
He thought there were a hundred different reasons why her moving in could be a bad idea. But all he said was, ‘Luca is right. We have to maintain a level of safety as we move forward.’
She studied his face, as though able to see all the emotions and reservations that boiled below the surface. ‘You sure?’
‘There are three empty rooms upstairs. Choose one for your bedroom and another for your office. We’ll go by and pick up your things after we eat.’
She looked a little sheepish. ‘I figured you’d say that, so I brought what I need with me.’
He tried for casual. ‘Why don’t you take some time now and settle in?’
Krys was still upstairs when two vans bearing the logo of Geneva’s most famous restaurant pulled through the open gates. A chef and three assistants unloaded tray after tray of delicacies. They refused his offer to help, so he refilled his coffee cup and watched as they set bottles of white Burgundy and vintage champagne in his fridge and then decanted two bottles of Saint Emilion Premier Grand Cru Classe.
When Luca’s limo pulled up twenty minutes later, Jackson’s dining room had been transformed with starched linen tablecloths and six candelabra and sterling silver cutlery and bone china and crystal goblets. The chef was clearly accustomed to Luca’s habits, for he did not offer to serve. Instead, he pointed out the various courses to Jackson and a wide-eyed Krys, all simmering in their silver-plated basting trays, and departed.
For starters, they dined on paper-thin slices of air-dried beef, a Swiss delicacy, and a mélange of lightly pickled vegetables. This was followed by filet mignon with the spring’s first truffles, whipped garlic potatoes, and grilled chard. Chocolate torte for dessert. Cheeseboard.
