Of Noble Chains (The Ventori Fables) (10 page)

They passed by a small girl with what appeared to be rose stems for hair when Mal stopped.  Zia tried to pull out of his grasp again, but he held onto her.

“They can sense what you are,” Mal said, turning around to face her, “you need to hide your scent.”

“My scent?” Zia questioned, standing her ground as Mal stepped closer to her.  He leaned in to whisper in her ear and her stature stiffened.  Instinctively, she reached for her blade.

“We must wait for laCoix to reveal himself,” Mal whispered, “otherwise you will not find him.  Until then, stay close; the others might not notice you then.”

“How long will that take?” Zia moved her head to face him, but their noses were only an inch apart.  He smiled down at her and pulled her closer to the dance floor.  “What are you doing?”

“You need to blend in more,” Mal shrugged and snatched her closer to him, her body colliding with his.  They were in the middle of a mass of dancing Specter’s, none of them paying Zia any mind.  Mal put one hand on her waist and kept his other entwined with hers, moving her about under the flashing lights.

The smell of iron and honey filled the air now, overtaking Zia’s senses; being this close to Mal was beginning to give her a headache, or maybe it was just being surrounded by Specter’s.  As she avoided making eye contact with her dance partner she peered around the room, wondering how many of them were STRAYs.

How many things in that room had killed an innocent?  How many had fed upon a human just because it looked like fun?

Mal suddenly pulled Zia against him, trying to get her attention.  “You look frightened,” he said.

“I’m not scared,” Zia spat at him, “I’m disgusted.”

“You look of that too,” Mal pulled his lips towards his teeth, “do you wish to leave?”

“No,” Zia wrenched herself from his arms, bumping into someone else on the dance floor, “not until I find laCoix.”  The music stopped and all eyes were once again on her; even the lights had stopped flashing, narrowing in on her.  She looked around nervously, wondering what had set them off.

“Ventori,” a man growled, the one Zia had backed into, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m—“ Zia began but Mal quickly cut in, stepping between her and the stranger just as he had in the alleyway with Aeryn.  It looked strange, with his lanky figure against such a large man, but he didn’t show any fear.  He hadn’t even hesitated to step between them.

“She is with me,” he spoke loudly, ensuring everyone could hear.  “She is my companion.”

“Oh, like the Ligh—“ Zia was again cut off by Mal as he covered his hand over her mouth.  She glared at him over his fingers and only when she quieted down did her put his arm at his side.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Delmont,” Mal said to the Specter, a werewolf, Zia thought, “but she is not Ventori, merely a descendant.”

“You best be careful where you take her,” the wolf said, “others might not be as welcoming to your…
companion
.”  Delmont’s eyes drifted over Zia, boring into her like rusty blades.  She knew he wanted to kill her, and that he could, and that the only thing stopping him was Mal.  Delmont snapped his fingers and the music started again, the lights began to flash and beam over others in the club.  Slowly, the other Specter’s went back to their dancing, and their drinking.  Nobody cared about Zia anymore, at least not when they found out she was Mal’s companion.

She didn’t like that, even if it was a lie.  Being a Caster’s companion was demeaning, and it made her feel dirty just thinking about the idea of him running his magic through her.  She shivered as they watched Delmont walk away, stalking into a backroom.  Mal turned to her.

“Who was that?” she asked as he took her hand.  He began leading her to the bar, his hands a little sweaty from…nerves?

“That was Mr. Delmont,” Mal said, “he’s laCoix’s assistant.”

Zia tugged on her arm but was still dragged up to the counter.  “Then shouldn’t we talk to him?”

“No,” Mal shook his head furiously, his blond hair shimmering under a lime-green light, “if Delmont is here then that means laCoix is not.”

Zia bit down on her bottom lip, silently cursing.  This was all for nothing then; getting so close to a Specter, being called a companion…all of it worthless.  She hadn’t learned anything relevant to the case, and she certainly wasn’t any closer to catching Cindel’s killer.  She thought back to how eager Aeryn had been to get her in here…was this why?  Had he wanted to teach her some kind of lesson?

“You are sad,” Mal stated quietly in her ear, “why are you sad?”

“Because I have to work with a thing like you,” Zia shot at him, “and because I’m surrounded by monsters.”  She ripped out of his hands and almost ran out the front door of Wraith, leaving Mal calling out behind her.  Zia had easily avoided touching any more Specter’s, and only when she was out in the cool summer air did she realize how hard it had been to breathe inside.

As her feet began to take her away from Wraith, Aeryn appeared, falling into step beside her.

“Figured it out yet, hotshot?” he taunted, knowing exactly what had happened.

“Why did you let me go in there, if you knew he wasn’t there?” Zia asked.  “And why did you make me go in with—with
him
?”  They each looked over their shoulders, watched as Mal came running from the club.  But when he saw Aeryn he stopped, and simply let them leave.  Zia’s eyes followed him as he walked off into the shadows; exactly where he belonged, she thought.

“Because believe it or not,” Aeryn looked at her, “he isn’t the bad guy here.”

“They’re all bad guys here,” Zia wrapped her jacket tighter around her, feeling the residual cold of being so close to so many Specter’s.

Aeryn didn’t say anything after that, and only walked Zia back to her house.  She had thought about arguing with him, yelling at him, or just pleading with him.  But she knew she wasn’t in her right mind to do any of those things.

Zia’s heels clicked loudly against the cobble walkway to her front door, dissipating out into the darkness around them.

“Wait here,” she told Aeryn and walked into her house.  Aeryn had been at a loss for words to try and help her overcome her hatred of Specter’s, but maybe for her that would only come with maturity.  After what had happened with her brother…Aeryn could understand how she felt.  The door clicked, and Zia appeared, handing him a notebook.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking the black book from her.  He opened it and flipped through some pages, seeing hundreds of names written in small, loopy writing.

“It’s the lists you wanted,” Zia shrugged and looked away from him, “of all the most powerful Specter’s in the city.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.  You gonna contact me?”

“I will.”

“Is this going on a report to Ms. Madsen?” Zia peeked up at him with hope.  Aeryn smiled down at her.

“Not a chance.”

The library didn’t seem as welcoming as it once had to Zia; that stale smell she used to love from her childhood suddenly just felt cold, and the sight of books only made her want to run and hide.  Last night hadn’t gone well…and suddenly all of her confidence was gone.  But that wasn’t going to stop her from talking to this little boy about his heritage.  If there was one thing she knew in this world, it was history.

“Ms. Noble,” the librarian said, coming around her desk, “it’s good to see you again.  Thank you so much for coming!”

Zia plastered a smile onto her face, not really feeling up to basic pleasantries.  “Not a problem, you said the kid doesn’t know about clans or anything?”

“Not really,” Mrs. Mayfield hesitated, “he’s only six and his parents are often working…but he’s been reading all the books he can since he arrived here.  I thought he might like to hear from someone actually in a clan.”

“Okay,” Zia followed after the librarian towards the back of the building, noticing that there was nobody else around.  There weren’t even other kids.  “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they all went on a fieldtrip down to the park,” Mrs. Mayfield glanced over her shoulder, “Trenton…didn’t want to go.”  Zia only nodded.

She wondered if the boy was having difficulty fitting in; she had at first.  The children didn’t seem to care much if someone was in a clan, but a lot of humans felt differently.  And because the parents would usually warn their children of the “evil” clan members, the innocent ones would get ostracized.  Zia wondered how she would have dealt with it if she never had her brother.

After moving past rows upon rows of dust covered books, Zia came to the opposite end of the library.  The morning light shone bright through the large windows, illuminating four tables and a six year old boy who sat in the middle.  His legs swung beneath his chair, his nose stuck in a book.  Zia smiled, remembering how she was the same when she wasn’t out with her brother.  Books were a brilliant escape into history, and she loved them for it.

It must have been strange for a human to see a boy so young reading something so thick.  But it wasn’t unusual for a clan member, especially one of the Neith clan.  They were all brilliant, and most could read more than one language by the time they started walking.

“Trenton,” Mrs. Mayfield got the boys attention and he looked up with big, almost impossibly green eyes, “this is the girl I was telling you about, Kehzia Noble.  She’s a clan member like you, she’s here to teach you a little about what that means.”  Zia gave a little wave at the boy and sat across from him.

“Hey,” she said, and Mrs. Mayfield walked back to her duties, “you can call me Zia.”

“You’re part of my clan?” Trenton asked, face full of hope.

“No,” Zia set her bag on the table, resting her forearms in front of her, “I’m from the Medea clan.  You’re Neith, right?”  The boy nodded his head.  “Well you have a very…smart heritage then.”

Trenton lit up at that.  Questions started to pour from his mouth, asking about everything from what kinds of clans there were and where they originated to who their greatest heroes were. 
Were there a lot of Neith in the city?  Why was everyone so secretive about the clans?  How many times did the Neith save the day?
  Zia held her hands up to stop him, “Whoa, slow down, kid!  How about I start from the beginning, alright?”

He eagerly nodded his head, brown hair flying about.

“Okay,” Zia thought, wondering how she could tell him such a detailed history so he would understand, “I’ll start with the clans; there’s five of them: Neith, like you, Medea, like me, the Shakti, Raijin and the Jasper.  A long time ago they existed together, but not really united.”  She mashed her hands together.

“But they fought the shadows, didn’t they?” Trenton asked.

“I’ll get to that,” Zia stopped him from asking anything else, “but hundreds of years ago they were just people.  They didn’t always have the powers that they do now; though they did have certain abilities they were known for.  The Jasper were excellent hunters, they could track down anything anywhere in the world, but usually only for their own gain.  The Medeans were the swiftest and most cunning of them all, using their brains in a fight rather than their brawn, but that didn’t always outdo the Shakti, who were the strongest warriors of all.  And the Raijin were spiritual, they were excellent alchemists and healers.”  Zia paused, teasing Trenton.

“What about the Neith?  You forgot the Neith!”

“Oh, did I?  I’m so sorry,” Zia dramatically held a finger to her face, as if thoughtful.  “The Neith were the smartest, they could create anything they could imagine and often worked with the other clans to help build better houses or find ways to get better harvests.  You know kid, it’s because of the Neith that the clans were able to unite at all.”

Trenton clapped his hands as he inched forward.  Zia was worried he might fall from his chair if he tried to get any closer.

“The Neith helped the five clans come closer together,” Zia continued, looking out the window as she pictured it in her mind, “they would often bring them to each other when they needed help.”  She looked back down at the boy.  “Like if the Shakti clan ever needed something for their wounds, the Neith introduced them to a Raijin, or if the Jasper needed help getting a trap set up, they would show them to a Medean.  So over time the clans became friends, without even realizing it.  There was still a bit of tension though.”

“What about the shadows?” Trenton scrunched his face up, and Zia almost did the same remembering the werewolf from last night.  It reminded her of the faces she would make with her brother when she was a child; part of her heart chipped off then, never to be seen again.  At least it felt that way.

“They’re called Specter’s now kid,” Zia sighed, “because they’re ‘the witnesses’ of humanity.”  She rolled her eyes.  “They existed then too, unfortunately.  But the clans didn’t know about them, they were too far away, on another continent even.”

“Con-continent?” Trenton sounded out, moving his eyes around as he tried to look down at his mouth.  Zia explained what it meant and moved on.

“None of the clans are from here,” she said, “but there were humans here, and Specter’s.  The Jasper clan were not only treasure hunters, they were explorers, and when they came here most of them were wiped out by the Specter’s.”