112
“He’s slippery,” Harry Jellickson said with a scowl. He stood at the window, looking out. Ever since leaving the Academy grounds, he’d felt an uncomfortable itch between his shoulders. “And he never goes to classes. It’s very strange behavior for a student.”
“That’s why Fergus was sure he was hiding something,” Padrick said. He leaned against the mantle above a gentle fire. In one hand he held a small glass of whiskey. He’d offered one to the special investigator, but it had been refused.
He assumed the man preferred swill from cheap taverns.
If you drink sewage often enough, you might get a taste for it, Padrick thought.
“The girls in his team go to classes sometimes, but I haven’t been able to get close to them.”
“There’s something wrong with them, too,” Padrick grumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“The tall one picked up one of my bodyguards. Just lifted him up like he was a toy.” Padrick shook his head and sipped. “I know she looks big, but I don’t think she’s that strong. Balsom isn’t a lightweight.”
“She’s had Tank training,” Jellickson pointed out. “Some of that involves learning how to use mana to reinforce your muscle. Helps them to take hits and give them out harder.”
“I don’t know,” Padrick said. “It just felt off.”
“I looked into what happened to your team.” The special investigator turned away from the window and took a place in the middle of the room. He put his hands behind his back and stood like a man giving a report. Padrick liked that about him. “It’s been dismissed as a squabble among gang members.”
Padrick grunted.
He didn’t like that men who’d always been so reliable were being discarded so callously. But he couldn’t risk being associated with them.
He’d already sent word to ensure their families were at least compensated.
“I don’t understand how a little girl like her could wreck a whole team.”
“She was Selma,” Jellickson said. “The tall one.”
“She’s only a rank two,” Padrick growled. “And my team had a nullstone. She should’ve been easy. See? That’s what I’m talking about. There’s something weird about these people.”
“Are you sure you want to try again?”
“No, I’m not,” Padrick said honestly. “But I don’t have much choice. My father’s getting impatient. I wanted Vesna to help me, but she’s avoiding me now.”
“She sent messages to her father yesterday,” Jellickson said. “I couldn’t find out what was in them, though.”
“Probably asking him to tell her what to do,” Padrick snorted. “She’s too indecisive. If I had time, I’d find a way to push her.”
“Everyone has a pressure point,” Jellickson agreed. “It’s just a matter of finding it.”
Padrick sighed.
Since his team was wiped out, he’d begun to get a creeping feeling that something was more wrong than he thought. Milo’s threat kept haunting his thoughts.
Along with Selma’s touch on his forehead.
He’d started feeling very uncomfortable while outside. Or near windows.
He felt reluctant to use more men to go after Milo’s team. In his mind, he hadn’t been given enough to work with. But his father had maintained that capturing one normie shouldn’t be so difficult.
Padrick had initially agreed with him.
But, like Jellickson, Padrick’s team had found it difficult to track Milo through the Academy. It was like he had the ability to completely disappear. He was also not leaving the Academy grounds.
This had left Padrick with fewer options.
He’d thought that targeting his team would be the most simple option. They were only girls. They shouldn’t have been this much trouble.
“Ugh.” He put the glass down on the mantle and pressed his fingers to his head. “This is turning into a mess. I need to send my father a message. I don’t know what to tell him.”
“I can write you a report,” Jellickson offered. “At least to support your concerns.”
“Can you?” Padrick glanced up. That might be helpful. His father respected Jellickson. They’d gone to the Academy together. “I’d appreciate it if you would.”
“Of course. I’ll send you something in the next few days.”
“Thank you,” Padrick said, looking more relieved. It might soften the blow of losing four men. “It’s a sensitive time. I don’t want to make him more angry than he already is.”
“I understand.” The special investigator’s shoulders eased a little. “How’s the negotiations going?”
“I don’t know,” Padrick said, trying not to show too much bitterness. “I’m all the way out here. But, from what I understand, the treaty with the Empire should be signed in the next few weeks. Once that’s done, we’ll declare war.”
“Nasty business.”
“Yeah.” Padrick snatched up the glass and drained the rest. If he was honest, he was scared. Scared of war. “But the Court could’ve avoided it all if they’d just handed Milo over. I don’t understand why they’re protecting him. He’s a nobody. A normie. Right?”
Jellickson nodded. “I tested him myself.”
“And there was nothing strange about him?”
“He’s a clocker,” Jellickson said with a little amusement. “They’re all strange. But nothing I’d call interesting. I’d completely forgotten him, to be honest.”
“Hmph.”
“What about recruiting? How’s that going?”
“A few will support us,” Padrick said. “I can’t count on them all, though. But I think some will come to my side once war is announced.”
“Enough to take the Academy grounds?”
“I think so,” Padrick said grimly. “I’m not sure I can do much with the Headmaster, though.”
“I’ve already forged a summons for him. I’ll deliver it on the day.
” Jellickson looked proud of that. “Given the war, he should believe it and not look at it too closely. That should get him out of the Academy. You’ll need to be quick, though.
It won’t fool him for long. We’ll need to bring the Tinkers under our control so they can activate the traps. ”
Padrick chewed on a nail.
This was the plan he’d discussed with his father.
Over and over. Until he was sick of hearing about it.
He’d thought it would be so simple. But, like the issue with Milo, everything was falling apart. His father had thought it best to isolate and remove Milo before the war started. Before Padrick took the Academy and disabled it.
But it seemed unlikely they’d be able to do so.
Which would leave Milo as a wild card during the battle for the Academy.
It was important, though. He had to get the Tinkers. Get the traps activated.
Then the traps would take care of the other students, leaving the Mage Court with both a shocking scandal and a lack of resources for the coming war.
The plan had been to lay the blame at Milo’s feet, too.
But how was Padrick going to do that now? It felt like his plans were slipping between his fingers.
“We need more nullstones,” he murmured. “But they’re being hoarded for the war. And I don’t have enough men because it would have looked suspicious. This is turning into an absolute mess.”
Harry Jellickson nodded.
He agreed.
Something wasn’t right. Years of being an investigator and tester for the Mage Court had left him with a finely honed sense of suspicion. Padrick had said he thought Milo’s team smelled off.
And Jellickson had come to that same conclusion.
“Maybe we should abandon the mission,” Jellickson said slowly.
“If the war is coming, it won’t really matter what happens here.
There’s no doubt that with the Empire supporting him, your father will sweep through the Republic.
Taking the Academy will be no trouble. It’s not like it’s very well defended. ”
Spitting out some nail, Padrick gave a slow nod. He was thinking the same, but he was glad Jellickson thought about it.
“I’ll do the next dungeon tomorrow,” he said at last. “Just to avoid suspicion. After that, I’ll decide if we continue or pull back. He won’t be happy, but if you can help with your report, it would mean a lot.”
Padrick left a few minutes later.
Jellickson watched him leave from the window. He’d wait ten minutes. Just to be sure.
He squinted through the soft curtain, trying to see anyone on any nearby rooftops. Or behind any shrubs. Or just standing around.
But it was empty.
Still.
The itch between his shoulders remained.
“Maybe I’m getting old,” he said softly.
“Ain’t no chance of that, buster,” another voice said coldly just as a sharp pain tore through his kidneys.
“Oh!” He gasped, trying to bring his hand up. Summoning his mana. Fire danced on his fingertips, but flickered and died as she ripped the blade upwards with a cruel jerk of her arm.
“That’s for Milo,” Tania told him. “And all that trash ya wrote about him.”
Those were the last words he heard. Words which made him confused.
What trash?
He couldn’t remember writing anything about Milo at all.
It had been so long ago.
As he sank into the cold embrace of death, Tania stood over him, wiping the blade before flicking her wrist to let it slide back up into her forearm.
She felt a warm sense of satisfaction as he stared down at the body.
The door behind her opened, and Mila wandered in, covered in blood from head to toe. She was carrying a heavy box, though it didn’t look like too much of a struggle.
Tania nodded to her. “You get them all, sister?”
“Yes.” Tania put the box down. “The only people he has left with him now are the ones who just left with him. I took the nullstones, too. They might be helpful, right?”
“Good thinking.”
Mila showed a pleased grin. “I try.”
Tania took a long sweeping look around the room.
“Alright, then. Let’s get to work!”