Obsidian Eyes (14 page)

Monday, 1
^st
August.

Early morning, Allie, Jared, and Duncan took the steps to Marshall’s mezzanine office. With the slate blinds raised, the office opened to the floor below. Marshall leaned on the railing, watching. Allie walked the floor as nervous energy fizzed under her skin. Her mind shot in several different directions as she tried to decide what to do. Part of her urged her to confide in the weapons master. She had watched him for several weeks as she worked under his tutelage during the summer holiday. Although hard and demanding, he was always fair. She saw him not just as a teacher, but as a mentor. Someone whose opinion she was coming to trust.

The three men watch her pace for several minutes before Marshall broke the silence. “Out with it.”

She halted and studied Marshall’s awkward stance, then realised when you only have one arm, you couldn’t cross them over your chest. “We shouldn’t have this conversation inside. Walls have ears.”

He snorted. “You’re guild through and through.” He moved to his desk and picked up a metallic object, the size and shape of an apple. He gave the stalk key several winds, depressed the top, and set it down on the desk. A low, unobtrusive hum filled the room. “Not that anyone would be listening here, but that should reassure you.”

Allie nodded. The apple device was a resonance emitter, which would interrupt and counteract any listening devices. “Zeb’s in something over his head and we need to stop him from drowning.”

“He’s building something in his lab that could blow the school up,” Duncan threw in, making a whooshing noise and throwing up his arms in glee at the prospect.

Jared shook his head at his cousin’s strange sense of humour. “The device has a lethal military application and Allie believes it would generate a large amount of interest on the black market. KRAC have been sending the Conri to deal with him.”

Marshall scratched his chin. “I knew they were sniffing around here, but the boy worries me.”

“Zeb’s an easy target if word got out,” Allie said.

Marshall fixed Allie with his sharp gaze. “Has it?”

Allie crossed her arms and raised her gaze to Marshall. “You keep making assumptions about what I am and how much I know.”

“You’re guild, feel free to fill in the rest for us.” He gestured to the apple device, reminding her their words would not be overheard.

“My grandfather is not guild.” Her feet wanted to pace some more but she commanded them to stay put. She crossed and uncrossed her arms instead.

Marshall kept picking at her defences. “No, but guild money paid for your place at St Matthews. I’m betting the association is on your father’s side.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that I am not a willing accomplice in whatever is at play here?” Her tone climbed higher but she pulled it back down. Letting out a breath, she held up her arms to the weapons master, exposing her slender wrists. “I’m seventeen, I am not marked. All your talk of allegiances, for what? No guild controls me.”

“What do you mean, not marked?” Jared’s question cut through the tennis match.

Duncan’s head got a break from flicking back and forth to watch the volley of conversation.

Marshall flicked his gaze to Jared and released Allie from his sights. “Eighteen is a significant age for nobles and guilds alike. You’ll be considered an adult and able to control your land and holdings. In the guilds you chose your allegiance, which is then tattooed on the inside of the wrist.”

Allie’s feet won out and she paced the few strides to the railing. “I’ll be marked by the guild which holds my life.”

“Holds your life? A strange way of putting it,” Jared said.

“No it’s not.” The energy drained from her body and into the floor beneath her feet. She came to a halt.
What am I doing?
“Breaking guild law carries lethal consequences. As children the very first guild law we learn is not to talk to outsiders about guild business.”

“I know what risk you take, talking to us.” Marshall’s soft tone reached out to her, as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

Allie fought back tears, vowing she would not cry in front of the men. The choice she would soon be forced to make overwhelmed her. She turned her face toward Marshall and away from Jared and Duncan. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. Life unravelled in front of her. The secrets they wanted her to give up would cost her life, or worse, her freedom.
Which side do I serve? Noble or guild? Friend or family?

She pulled back. “I have a contact with a guild. I have a suspicion I was placed here because of Zeb, but I’ve not been told anything yet.”

Marshall nodded. “In the meantime keep an eye on Zeb. Make sure one of you is with him all the time, we don’t want him disappearing on us.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze before dropping his hand Allie’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can do in exchange for your help?”

A sigh tore through her body. Events were now set in motion and she didn’t know how they would end. An idea popped into her head. “Yes, I need space for Eloise and her experiments. Somewhere light and high up. It needs to be private and with access to the roof.”

Nobody can help me but at least I can do something for Eloise.

Marshall laughed. “An unusual request but I’ll ask around, see what I can do.”

Dusk hazed the light outside when Allie sat at the desk in her room, a tiny strip of paper held between two fingers. Taking up her quill, she scratched out a brief question:

Am I here for the same reason as KRAC?

Letting go of the strip, she let it furl back into a tight roll. Opening a drawer, she pulled out a small glass vial with a copper stopper. Inside lay a slumbering insect. Unstopping the end, she tapped out the minute creature. She ran a fingertip down its back and sheer gossamer wings of rainbow hues unfurled. The dragonfly had a metal body, with small antenna on its brass head that resembled dual compass needles. The Stone of Coulags imbued the miniscule brain with sentient abilities and ensured the mechanism never needed winding.

Allie unhinged the end segment of its body and slid in the tightly furled note. The insect had absorbed a drop of her blood and another from the recipient of the message. The blood enabled it to act as a tiny carrier pigeon, one capable of finding the matching blood, regardless of where the person resided.

The head turned from side to side and the antenna swung back and forth as the insect oriented itself. Opening the casement she leaned out, palm extended, and then set the dragonfly free. So beautiful and delicate; she could imagine how it would flit around the countryside, fitting in with its flesh and blood counterparts, unnoticed, as it winged toward London.

Wednesday, 3
^rd
August.

hree nights later and a
tap, tap, tapping
dragged Allie from sleep. The noise sounded like a clock with an erratic heartbeat, unable to keep time. She sat up and glanced around the room and expected to see a twitching frog launch itself off Eloise’s desk and then realised it came from outside the room. The window to be exact. Letting her toes sink into the lush oriental carpet, she approached. A flash caught her eyes in the moonlight. A fragile creature threw itself against the window trying to gain entrance.

“All right, all right, don’t hurt yourself,” Allie muttered as she opened the casement. The brass dragonfly shot into the room and alighted on Allie’s arm. She drew the window closed and sat at her desk, holding out her left hand. The insect hopped onto the outstretched palm.

“Let’s see what you have for me, my little friend.” She gently tapped the last segment of its body and it unhinged, revealing a tightly scrolled piece of paper. Allie unfurled the tiny strip to read the hidden message.

There is more to be learned, than what is taught in a classroom.

She gave a deep sigh. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Allie stroked a finger along the dragonfly’s back and it folded it wings back over itself, allowing her to drop it into a small glass vial. Placing the stopper on the end, Allie tucked the messenger into her desk drawer. She headed back to the comfort of her bed, sunk into the mattress and pulled the coverlet over her head, trying to shut out the world invading her dreams.