Dawn of Legacy, page 10
“It’s like Jem exploded all over your face Johnny B.” I fired over my shoulder, commenting on his exotic eyeliner as he single-arm hugged me from behind and dropped an affectionate kiss on the back of my head, while never taking those made-for-mischief eyes off the other pair.
“If only.” the rocker managed to suggestively whine. I love/hated him, as I diligently edited out any image of a middle-aged Jem and Johnny B. tangled in love throes. I swatted at the studded lapel to shut him up but paused long enough after the impact to share a mutual smile of understanding, gratitude anchoring my side of it while duty anchored his.
“It’s good timing Kay, ‘cause Helena seemed to be suggesting we cap off my welcome home from jail party by making me a copper for the Umbrella Corporation over here.” Before the orator of Iandor could defend their ranks, the leveling look I gave to my oldest friend still pressed to my side had a question mark. She knew why too. There’s a host of bad byproducts to having a brain like mine and being a social-contract slayer (between the short attention span and the unintentional rudeness, and sometimes both at once) was one of my most cherished.
And I put pieces together really fast. “Apparently that was part of the agreement.”
Suddenly, I realized that Johnny wasn’t there to back me up with Helena, but instead to back Kaycee, who was looking across the bar at Gale, who was standing post for the same reason. “And what exactly is this agreement?” I could feel the first grasp of dread, shifting my look from my compatriots to the newly crowned Woman in White who’d started this. Anxiety can be debilitating, and I had to work to keep mine from rising up at the sudden degree of seriousness blanketing everyone.
Kaycee began to speak. “A lot changed after the trial, Janzen. A lot. There are questions still unanswered about why Zachariah took early retirement and relocated to Cleveland—that came up again obviously. Cleveland was basically witness protection for those of us in a bit of a jam at his behest after he’d gotten here and set up shop. Zachariah was trying to shine a light on all of these coincidences and happenings. Still, most of us are here under a kind of allowance, and that’s directly from the very powers that oversee some of our oldest rules; the ones threatened by recent dealings. Everything with the Masarou Tribe, and the House of Unet, plus with—”
Helena actually reached out and touched Kaycee on the forearm, and it was another small moment with larger implications; an ask of forgiveness was there in the first moment, as well as a reassurance in the nod that let the elf fall quiet so the Master Artificer could try and put the pieces together.
“We’re not sure as to the how of it, but Donovan was amongst those helping Zachariah. We suspect that when Zachariah tried to liaise with the other governing bodies after failing with Iandor, he went through Donovan and Ja’Sune. They worked against him and used the knowledge of what he was trying to do and what was going on to suppress anything from getting out. Both Masarou and Unet were grossly unaware of anything when they set up the trial, and the contingent sent only came because of old loyalties and some complacency. If we can figure out what Zachariah discovered, maybe we can get ahead of this, and start acting on it rather than reacting to it. I know your experience thus far with these agencies have been-”
“-Thick with corruption and layered in incompetency?”
Despite himself, the guy who was her hang around chuckled. Helena took a moment to make formal introductions. “Julian, this is Janzen. Janzen, you might as well have the name of the man who is constantly glowering at you. Julian is my former apprentice.” Despite being embarrassed by his impulsivity, it was obvious that she was very proud of her hand in his development.
“Low hanging fruit, but fair.” Helena managed to muscle through without laughing, but I was glad she smiled. Sometimes you think you’re going for blood with an outburst, and other times you realize maybe you were just looking for a little acknowledgement.
“The IRS being assholes is low-hanging fruit, y’all are two day rotted apples on the floor.”
“Regardless,” the tick of irritation placated me, and while most would assume it’s my incessant and unexplainable need to rub-someone-raw thing, there was a method to my madness.“ – there were some innocents involved in all that transpired, people caught in the crossfire of Donovan and the woman from the Abyss.”
I resisted the urge to offer a more concise name for the fiend, like bitch or scum.
“Nobody wants blood, or anything archaic like that, but accountability and an effort to make sure this kind of thing doesn’t become a mainstay in Cleveland is of paramount importance. If we can ensure at least that much, there are certain things we can acknowledge as just a tragedy and move on.”
I flicked my eyes up searchingly, the urge to be scathing corralled by my genuine curiosity of what it was exactly—outside the things that happened to our people—that could be considered tragic.
“The dark elf for example, apparently he was just a guard doing his duty,” Kaycee offered me as a lifeline for my aimless thoughts. I recall the combatant, the one who’d chased me out of the old courthouse and had been one of the most troubling enemies I’d ever come across—Blind Judge included.
My mouth opened to protest.
“The two goblins from the Masarou Tribe,” Johnny ticked off. How I could have saved them I hadn’t the faintest clue, making my already arresting shock send me into a stupor. In my turn from half-elf to the full bred rock-a-billy one behind me, I caught something of a grimace on the black-haired, black rimmed tag-a-longs disposition. I couldn’t say why, but it convinced me to hold my tongue. People hurt by people shouldn’t have to explain themselves, and while passing this conversation with us, I could tell this piece of the puzzle stung to the yet-to-be-investigated interloper a bit.
“There’s also the matter of the property damage. You destroyed an older, valuable Blind Judge that has a higher responsibility to the cause than any of us.” Julian added, reeking of company man bullshit; a corporate ladder climbing, merciless asshole if I ever saw one.
“Property damage…are you fuc-” Kaycee actually clapped a hand over my mouth, which was good because my eyes screamed when they turned to the next commentator. I was about to say that maybe advertising something as unbreakable was just asking for it anyway, but I didn’t.
“The three Unet council-people weren’t in on it either, so that’s what…five?” Johnny, unperturbed, kept counting. “Alpha and Delta were pretty badly beaten and bruised; they were down for almost as long as you were. I imagine they want that in the record.”
“Johnny.” Luckily, with a controlled squeeze I conveyed to my oldest friend that she could trust me with my own faculties again and Kaycee had thankfully removed the manacle she’d turned her iron-grasp into from my mouth. The helping or hurting comment came to mind, and it momentarily made me smirk at how alike he and his mother were. My hands instinctively spread out and I stood up at some point.
“Okay, cliff notes version, we’re all here because you’re mad that I broke your monster and let your council die, the same council that was trying to sentence me to death for something neither I nor Gale did.” Based on context, and being able to sniff out bullshit, this was hard for me to even pretend to stomach.
“You’re here because Zachariah was right, and not crazy, and now you’re covering your ass.”
Helena had grown conspicuously quiet and maintained an air of watchfulness. “And you give me this bullshit rush job treatment because Iandor is one of those agencies, governments, guilds or whatever the fuck, that has their fingers in everything and hands on everyone so that you can throw your weight around, and the kicker is that even my own people are hoping I’ll be diplomatic.”
Julian couldn’t help but smile at the way everything was going down, and I noticed there was a touch of response to my tangent that told me that if this had been a neutral audience, I’d have won them all over. “I’ve been trying to get here since there was a rumor of a Stalker passing over in a rift, so in a roundabout way I should thank you?” A shrug complimented the rhetorical statement.
Much like Helena, the guy had a few pieces; noticeably this wicked cool double-ring with the shape of a mace laden over the top of it. The craftsmanship was amazing, the replica feel of the weapon being depicted was so detailed and there was the neatest, tightest scribe-work of sigils across the heart of the main band. Pragmatic work, but just unbelievable; like the best kind of basic handwriting in the world. The simplistic nature didn’t take away from the potency either, and the fact that the hand was so impeccable I imagine it charged and channeled the powers associated with it brilliantly.
“Plus, I got a promotion after the whole Judge debacle.” Black eyes hiked up gleefully, seeming to be unfazed by the fact that this incident was something of an ongoing nightmare for the rest of us.
Ms. Muranti wasn’t distracted by my outburst and was steadily tracking me with an assessing stare.
“All things considered, this is about as cool as I can be about all of this. Setting aside what was done to me and mine, you do offer food for thought.” I finally said after chewing on the implications of the bigger picture. The vague gesture does a poor job of encompassing all of their points, and truthfully, I’d never put any meaningful thought into that side of it, even with nine months in jail and little else to do.
Helena, having adopted quiet during this part of the discussion, slowly shifted a look to Gale.
Gale, who looked perfectly mysterious and absolutely majestic with her arms crossed, and her cat-eyes alive with a power that I had personally seen answer the challenge of would-be Godlings, was posturing. She was posturing for me. That was why nobody intervened with my sentencing, or time inside. All of this felt like it was being laid out in an agreed upon, scripted fashion, and I was sure that that was her influence. She wasn’t just tipping the scale; she was staking a claim on one side of it.
She wasn’t kidding when she said we were even…that sucked.
“There’s more to it than just their desire to police the situation, Janzen.” Kaycee said, uncharacteristically cautious. I considered her the wisest amongst us and trusted her to prioritize the right tone over the one that she may have wanted to take. “Half the reason the community is becoming so tight knit is necessity. Not only are there random attacks that we can’t explain half the time, but even some of our own people are starting to struggle. This stuff is dark and addicting, and as the gifted become the able there’s a lot of stuff that’s going unchecked. Iandor is suffering from a similar problem, but on a larger scale. Those problems began to escalate not long after your first run-in with this…Woman. It’s likely that that wasn’t the beginning of it either. We now believe that all of this has been brewing for a lot longer than we ever imagined.”
Since our encounter at the lake, I had suspected that this woman, this unofficial Queen of the Abyss, was most likely responsible for the death of Zachariah and the team. Hearing someone else say it turned it into more than just a passing thought or suspicion; it was a fact. I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid.
“We can talk about it more tomorrow, maybe late in the afternoon after you’ve had a chance to settle in.” That maternal instinct was running hand in hand with her very justifiable apprehension that I was on the cusp of saying something idiotic. Kaycee knew me the best of the lot and knew the only thing I loathed more than authority was being told what to do.
I’d already blown any chance of being some kind of rehabilitated zen-master, and while a parting shot would be on brand, I found myself exhaling through the smart-assery and instead tried to land on something a little more civil.
“Yeah,” I offered after a pensive moment, nodding myself back to the present. “I’ll see if I can clear my schedule.” I emphasized the wrong part of the enunciation but didn’t have the heart to really drag it out. With some effort I was able to not only keep the irritation from my face, but actually push it aside while standing with Helena.
We shared a sense of duty to one another, though I couldn’t say why I knew that, or where my confidence in that suspicion came from. Zachariah mattered to each of us, albeit in vastly different ways, and I knew that if there was an opportunity to make sense of what had happened to him it might help with whatever closure looked like for both of us respectively. It was easy to get a feel for how unhappy I was at the way a lot of this went down, but I think I did an admirable enough job keeping the fuck you off my face.
“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Robinson.”
It stung a little, hearing my name in the English lilt.
“Use the paper cup phone, I didn’t have a chance to get a new cell yet.”
Helena did an impressive blink-balk hybrid, before opening her mouth to inquire, but instead shifted a look to Kaycee. The half elf shrugged and gave a confirming nod.
“He’s not kidding.”
I turned to the bar, breaking the dialogue and trying to drag my mind out of the cauldron of headaches that would inevitably be born of whatever this would become. Like all the most important figures in my life, I had spent a significant amount of time thinking of Zachariah during my time in jail. That was especially true when I was studying in my cell. Reminiscing in an almost daily meditative state, I was fortunate enough to walk through a myriad of our lessons and interactions together and was grateful.
Kaycee was literally dragging at my arm to shake me back to the now, and as her sigh melted into a more commonplace smile, we ordered another round of drinks and started to welcome the night in, while toasting my homecoming. It was a nice gathering. Kaycee never directly addressed the impromptu meeting I was blitzed with, but I knew we would talk it out in due course. Grove was a lot freer from his shell than I ever remembered him being, though it made sense since he’d served as a kind of glue for all of this in my absence. Johnny sang about a dozen songs despite never once stepping on the stage or being asked to. Eventually, even Patrick rolled in.
Despite my new concerns it was nice to be home, and for the first time since the era of my old mentor that was exactly what all of this felt like.
Home.
CHAPTER 9
From Hunch ...
The night found a good rhythm after the interruption. Strained small talk eventually got traction, and after I made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t up for discussing the heavy implications of everything that had transpired earlier—even after a fourth and fifth round—it was pretty universally addressed anyway. Truth be told, the festivities with my ragtag crew got a little livelier than expected, and it became pretty obvious to me that they needed a blow-off evening much more than I needed any kind of Welcome Home party. Throughout the night I got small insights into what they had been dealing with lately. They had definitely been busy…though nothing anywhere near as traumatic as our inaugural battle with the Abyss intruder
Nor had anything been as violent as the brawl that had landed me in jail, and taken the life of Xander, the original doorman of the Last Love Bar. Still, it was a little jarring to hear just how much activity had been thrumming throughout my city. Apparently, the unification of the abnormally large number of people in the know about our world was fueled more by random attacks, troubling disappearances and other insidious coincidences that had been piling up recently. The city was lucky it had been left in such capable hands, but I could feel the battle-fatigue in almost everyone. Kaycee, an already perpetually exhausted mother, friend-group chaperone, and surrogate for every lost soul I knew, was now doubling-down on her already overwhelming responsibilities with this school she had started. Her students were gifted, but it wasn’t as if she could churn out effective foot-soldiers. The schism between someone able to cast a spell because of innate ability and a battle-ready wielder was so large it was almost impossible to quantify.
Grove, with the surprising help of Nicholas, had been developing custom security systems that would alert the growing community with communication, contingency and escape methodology while also alerting him and a few other key players as to the whereabouts of the disturbance. Of course, that kind of exertion came with an often-unacknowledged commitment; meaning that whenever he wasn’t fielding a job, working a job, or training, there was the city-proper to be patrolled, people to check-in on and failsafes to be regulated and maintained. Even Gale seemed more reserved and resolved, and when I had made it a point to let everyone know I didn’t want to get too deep into the details of what had just happened with Iandor, I did let her know that I was curious about why there wasn’t any debt to be named between the two of us.
Johnny B. and Verrak appeared to have fit right into the Last Love Bar and were able to interject enough personality to cover down when Gale felt a little muted, presumably at the loss of Xander, who was her life partner. The place was doing well, and when the hour turned to night proper, I was pleasantly surprised at how many of the occupying denizens came over to offer some form of appreciation for our collective efforts and take some time to welcome me back. Admittedly that didn’t suck but given that self-deprecation was my go-to for humor, protection, and deflection, it was hard to really accept in any meaningful way: I was still incredibly reticent about things, and getting acclimated was not that easy. The inevitable challenge and moments such as these, felt like the real first canary in the coal mine of my self-esteem, and were leading me to the irrefutable inevitability of my own value.
