115. Deacon
Chapter 115
Deacon
“ T his is a pleasant surprise.” My grandfather says, pulling me into a hug. “Are you here to apply for a job?”
“Not a chance.” I respond with a chuckle. He asks me every time I come to his office.
“You sure? I hear you’re spending a lot of time in the field.”
“I’m hanging out with someone who’s a magnet for trouble.”
He winces, prompting me to ask, “You okay, Pops?” With a heavy sigh, he shakes his head. Getting to my feet, I ask, “Do I need to call the doctor?”
“No. Sit down Deke. It’s not a physical pain I’m experiencing. It’s an emotional one.”
“You and Gran fighting?”
He chuckles, “I wish. When we do the makeup, sex is epic.”
Now it’s my turn to grimace. What is with my grandparents over sharing lately? Pops gets to his feet, locks the office door and closes the blinds. When he returns to his desk, he looks worried.
“Pops?”
Nodding to himself, he comes to a decision, resignation now mars his features. “I have something to tell you. I should have said something earlier, but by the time I was ready to, you had already agreed to be Thea’s mentor.”
“We’re more than that, Pops.”
“I know, which is why we’re finally having this talk. You’re gonna be pissed and I’ll deserve it, but let me get out what I have to say first, before you disown me.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“You would, and it’s fine. But your Gran doesn’t deserve a shunning. You will maintain contact with her no matter what. Understood?”
Squirming in my seat, I agree, and he says, “I know The League has issued their impossible challenge again this year.”
I answer slowly. “They have, but I don’t know anything about it.”
“That’s good. But if you did know something about it, I hope it’s what the challenge actually is.”
“Finding an original chess set.”
He walks over to the wall and presses a button, revealing a retractable cabinet and the item hanging inside it. I join him over by the wall and ask, “What’s this?”
Pointing to the left, he says, “These are the names of the people our family has vowed to protect since the inception of The League of the Daggered Raven.” Gesturing toward the right, he says, “And these are the family members that are left.”
I read the names, following them to their descendants, and ask, “What about the descendants of the people down in this lower corner? Did they move away, or drop from The League?”
“Let’s sit,” Pops says, going back over to his desk.
Once we’re seated, he hands me a binder. I flip through the papers and photos in it. Looking up at him, I say, “They’ve all got one thing in common. They had daughters?”
He nods. “Daughters were always easier to replace, since they had no autonomy in that world. The husband’s family assumed the legacy title, which went to the oldest male heir, and that heir wasn’t always the husband. With each girl child being born, the family line became more and more diluted. The guardian lines lost track or stopped caring about anyone who wasn’t in the upper ranks of power.”
I flip through page after page, stalling in the middle of the book.
A familiar face stares back at me. “Pops?”
“Nikolous Constantin was the first male born in five generations. His great-great-great-grandfather was Caius Adrianakis.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
Turning the page, I spot a design on the back of Thea’s photo. It’s the same picture as the design on the piece of paper in Alexz’s safe. “Why does this look so much like the guardian crest?”
He answers, “Because it is the guardian crest. The one you see every day is a knockoff. Or maybe I should say it’s an offshoot from what it once was, just like the guardian organization is.”
He spins in his chair, accessing his safe, pulls an envelope out of his gun box, and hands it to me. Inside is a torn piece of paper, with C. Ad on it. “What’s this?”
“That’s a piece of the original governance document for The League of the Daggered Raven. And you need to find the original accounting entry before anyone else does.”
Setting the paper aside, I say, “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”
Thea
Delta team practically dragged me out of class and put me on an eleven hour flight to meet Alexz in Frankfurt. I plop down in a chair, waiting for the European assistants to leave the room, then ask, “Isn’t this a bit extreme even for you? If you wanted to see me, we could’ve video chatted.”
“As much as I am happy to see you, this isn’t on me, Egononi. Beauwolf requested this meeting and insisted it had to be in person.”
Wolfe met me at the airport, but he didn’t act like he knew what the last-minute trip was all about. “Wolfe?”
After a few moments of sizing up Alexz, he says, “We need to discuss league history.”
Alexz gestures, giving him the floor. Wolfe sets a briefcase on the table and removes the contents, passing them to Alexz. “Recognize that?”
Alexz says, “They’re the names etched on the wall in The Tomb and Founder’s Hall.” Sliding the document towards me, he asks, “What seems to be the problem?”
Wolfe answers, “My grandfather thinks the entries in the archives are wrong.”
“Wrong?” I parrot.
“As in tampered with.”
“You mean, forged?”
“Manipulated.” Wolfe clarifies. Then pulls out a few more sheets of paper and passes them to me and Alexz. Keeping one for himself, he says, I read along as he says, “1923, Colby Wagner.” I locate the name on the list. “He paid $10,000 dollars to Senator Hoyt’s campaign. The largest single donation at the time. He acquired a legacy spot in the dorm when George Wilson’s last living male relative passed away.”
Moving to the next entry, he says, “1936, union workers are on strike, costing Roosevelt Steele half a million in sales. The president of the union, Levi Borelli, had been refusing to negotiate until he was called personally by Dalton Roosevelt. There’s a closed door meeting, and after sixty-two days, the strike ends. Borelli resigned his position and took a job with Roosevelt.”
I add, “And now his family’s name is listed in founders hall.”
The stories go on and on. By the sixth name I say, “So it’s true? I was joking before, but it’s actually true that they bought and sold legacy positions at the dorm?”
Wolfe says, “They bought and sold positions that belonged to someone else. My grandfather believes there used to be a document in the guardian archives that listed the names and exact dollar amount each family donated. No one’s seen this document since it was drafted, but our family has passed down the names of the people on that document, the same way they passed down the family tree, of the bloodline they swore an oath to protect.”
He hands out another sheet of paper. I read the names labeled one through twelve. “Fifth?” My voice raises in pitch. “The Cox’s are technically fifth in line?”
“If what my grandfather says is true, they are, but they get the fourth spot because the families that tied for fourth moved away.”
Alexz asks, “Caius Adrianakis was a top donor?”
I ask, “You’ve heard that name before?” When I look up at him, he looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Caius Adrianakis is my maternal great-great-great-grandfather.”
Wolfe says, “He’s also the person that started the component of The League of the Daggered Raven that became The Guardian lines.”
My stomach drops. “Oh great. So I was always destined to be enslaved to The League as a bullet catcher.” Alexz gets up to fix himself a drink, and I say, “Make me a double.”
His eyes crinkle, a bit of vibrancy returns to his face when he points out, “You’re not old enough to drink.”
“I’m in Europe and can reach the bar, so hook me up.” He makes three glasses, setting them down in front of each of us. We all take a sip, then Alexz says, “Sounds like your grandfather gave you quite the history lesson? Please tell us what else he had to say.”
Glancing over at Alexz, I ask, “You haven’t heard any of this before?”
“No, Thea. I haven’t.”
Wolfe continues, “The Guardians were never supposed to be a lesser status than the league members. They were supposed to be equal branches of the same organization. Their purpose was to protect all the members. That protection was physical and emotional. The doctors, lawyers, body guards, psychologists, psychiatrists; they were all supposed to fall under the guardian tier.”
Protectors of mind and body. “And The League?” I ask.
“Their chosen career paths were always in finance. They were the money guys and politicians. The network and face of it all.”
Alexz asks the next question. “What was the third branch?”
“The Historians. They kept the records and validated contracts. Authenticated artwork, jewelry, basically anything of value. They were newspaper reporters, authors, journalists. They worked with museums to help curate collections and created charitable endowments. The purpose of The League was to build a sustainable community, networking on a global level.”
“ That’s not happening.” I say, rolling my eyes. I wish it was. That would have been nice to be a part of.
“I’m aware.” Wolfe sasses back. “In this current iteration of The League of the Daggered Raven, the Wrens are untouchable, and the historians and guardians are workhorses made up of lower legacy family members, who are all but ignored or considered expendable. My grandfather says the families are supposed to have a choice about which tier of The Trium they want to join.”
None of this was covered in my indoctrination classes or in the league handbook. “Are each of the Triu,m supposed to be under a separate tier?”
“Yes.” Wolfe answers. “They should be, to keep the power dynamic fair.”
“And the fourth bloodline. How did they fit in when they were allowed to join?”
Wolfe smiles. It’s cold. Callous. All teeth. “The fourth line were companions. Mediators, agents, public facing individuals. PR people, if you will.”
I snort out a laugh. “The Cox’s were supposed to do PR? Seriously?”
“Not necessarily them.” Wolfe says, “But yes, they were supposed to be the governing body for scouting, recruiting, and managing individuals in that career field.”
Flipping another page, I ask, “As my mentor, did they brief you on any of this?”
He shakes his head. “If the information my grandfather shared is true, it’s no wonder there’s no record of it. He didn’t even want me to write any of this down, but I promised him I’d be able to keep it secure.”
Now I understand why he wanted a face-to-face with Alexz. “If this got out, The League won’t be able to continue operating the way they do. Families in Canyon Falls would be challenging the current enrollment criteria and leadership. And the two families that should have been the fourth line; if they’re back in town, they’d have a legitimate claim to the title.”
Alexz's voice is quiet, his face somber, when he says, “They’re not the only ones, Anotèa.”