Eve of Destruction (22 page)

Finally Danev got a driver’s attention, and the four of them piled inside. It wasn’t the most spacious carriage Eve had ever been in, but at least it granted a modicum of privacy.

“You see our mysterious benefactor anywhere?” Danev asked his bodyguard once the horses began moving.

“No,” Aram replied, “Though honestly I was more worried that the three of you might start singing or wildly clapping your hands just to draw even more attention to us.”

Zach grunted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was bad enough. If Chaval didn’t know that we were here already, he does now.”

“We’ll be fine,” Danev soothed. “After we talk with Jack we can meet up with my people and lay low until we figure out our next move.”

Eve glanced briefly out the window before deciding that she’d seen plenty of Cadeotheia already. She slipped her hand into her satchel and pulled out the spellbook Maltus had given her. She’d tried to read it as much as possible to keep her mind off what was going on, and to her pleasant surprise, it had been working reasonably well. She couldn’t actually weave any of the spells yet, of course—they were far beyond even next year’s scheduled classes—but it was still interesting to try and make sense of them. The techniques were highly advanced theoretical sorcery, the kind only a few hundred magi in the world fully grasped. It was actually flattering that he’d assumed she would be able to understand it at all.

Their idle time at the
Pampered Goddess
had afforded her plenty of time to read, and it had almost made her wish she’d brought along her violin, too—her father would have been mortified at how little she practiced these days.

“I imagine you’re a good student,” Danev commented. He shifted his large frame in a vain effort to get comfortable on the rough wooden seat.

“Most of the time,” she said. “I don’t generally have trouble understanding the material, but…”

“You don’t always do the assignments,” he replied knowingly. “Sometimes you feel like the instructors are just trying to drown you with busywork.”

Eve blinked. “Basically. How did you guess?”

“Just a hunch,” he said with a smile. “Tara was the same way.”

“She conveniently never mentioned her poor study habits to me before,” Eve murmured.

“With good reason. That’s not a class book, is it?”

She shook her head. “No. Mr. Maltus gave it to me before I left, actually.”

Danev’s face tensed and he glanced out the carriage’s small window. “Curious.”

“It’s beyond me, but I’ve been doing my best with it,” she said. “At first I thought maybe I shouldn’t because of…well, because I guess we don’t know if we can trust him anymore. But it’s fascinating stuff.”

“Enclave agents aren’t known for handing out spellbooks,” Aram commented. “He must have had a very good reason for it.”

Zach frowned. “There’s nothing dangerous in there, I hope.”

Aram glared at him. “All magic is dangerous—especially to the uninitiated.”

“I’m hardly ‘uninitiated,’” Eve scoffed. “I’ve been studying my whole life.”

“But you haven’t taken the Oath Rituals.They exist for a reason.”

Danev waved a hand. “I’m not worried about it. I think you’re better off learning whatever you can, personally. Goddess knows we may end up needing it before this is over.”

“I kept meaning to ask you earlier but never got around to it,” Zach said after a few moments. “Who were the other members of this Valmeri Seven group? You, Mrs. DeShane, Mr. Maltus, Chaval, this Polard guy…who else?”

“Jean Lashowe, a temple priestess in
New Haven,” Danev added. “And Karyn Marose, the mayor of Selerius.”

“Marose? The presidential candidate? Wow, you people sure get around.”

“We went our own ways and made our own choices,” he said distantly. “I don’t know about Jack, but only a few of us managed to keep the ‘revolutionary spirit’ alive, so to speak. Simon actually did, in a sense.”

“And you?”

Danev shook his head and smiled faintly. “I might not have joined the cause, but I haven’t exactly led the opposition, either. Jean may be the only one who still has a clear conscience. She’s spent her life helping people, at least.”

So did mom
, Eve wanted to say, but the retort died on her lips. Her mother had been a teacher for Eve’s entire life, but what about the time before that? Apparently she’d done a lot of things she probably regretted.

Then there was Mr. Maltus. Eve didn’t know what to think about him at this point. For all the things he’d done for her—for them—why had he lied back in Lushden? Why hadn’t he told them what was really going on?

Eve wasn’t sure how long she stared down blankly at the book, but eventually they arrived at a dilapidated three-story apartment building. Her impression of the “best part” of Cadotheia had been pretty low, but this area was in another league entirely. Aside from the fact that half of the buildings looked like they’d been target dummies for academy students, the people here could have just crawled out of a coal mine. A nice sculpted fountain dominated the center of the street, but the “water” bubbling out of it looked more like sludge than anything drinkable. Regardless, two children were playing inside it, and a soot-covered woman Eve assumed was their mother sat nearby. Just behind them to the left was a fenced in area that might have been a park, but all that remained now were some broken swings and empty carousels.

“Now we hope he’s in,” Danev said after they left the carriage and he paid the driver.

“This guy doesn’t seem like he’s doing as well as your mayor friend,” Zach commented dryly as he eyed the haggard buildings.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Danev reminded him.

Zach grunted. “Hopefully
very
deceiving, for his sake.”

“We should get this over with,” Aram said, his cold gray eyes once again scouring the area.

“Indeed,” Danev agreed. “Come.”

Eve pulled her coat more tightly about her. She had felt out-of-place the moment she’d stepped off the train, but here it was even worse. It went beyond the icy glares and rustic fashion—something about this place just felt…
wrong
.

Mercifully they were off the streets and into the building quickly, and a few moments later Danev was knocking on one of the doors. A tall, heavyset man with thinned hair beyond his years opened it. He seemed startled at first, but then fixated on the wide moustache of the man standing in front of him.

“
Gregori
? Blessed Kirshal, what are you doing here?”

“Hello, Jack,” Danev said softly. “It’s been a long time.”

The other man shook his head in exasperation and examined the rest of them. His eyes stopped on Eve. “Oh my…Tara? No…”

“Evelyn,” she corrected. “Evelyn DeShane.”

Polard laughed heartily. “And to think, for a moment I thought Gregori had finally created a worthwhile illusion. I always told him he could make a fortune giving old people good looks.”

Danev smiled and shook the man’s hand. “This is her friend, Zach, and this is my associate, Aram.” He lowered his voice. “I brought Eve here because we need to talk, Jack. Can we come in?”

“Of course. Absolutely.” He gestured inside. “Make yourselves at home and let me get you something to drink. I, uh, I apologize for the mess—I don’t get many guests these days.”

The apartment was modest but surprisingly pleasant given the exterior. He had enough sitting space for everyone, and Eve couldn’t help but notice the striking juxtaposition between some of his decorations. Eccentric baubles that probably passed as normal in this part of the country mixed with other, more traditional ones from out east… It painted the portrait of a man unsure of who he was, or at the very least one trying to fit in and only partially succeeding.

“This is certainly not what I was expecting when I heard the knock,” Polard told them as he poured some tea. Everyone sat down except Aram, who remained standing by the door. “What’s it been? Twenty-five years?”

“At least,” Danev admitted.

“And you, my lady, look exactly like your mother.”

“So I’ve been told,” Eve said politely.

“What in the void is she up to, anyway? Not that I mind seeing her daughter, mind you, but I haven’t spoken to Tara since…”

He trailed off when he saw her face. She did her best not to let her expression sag.

“She’s dead, Mr. Polard,” Eve told him. “That’s actually the reason we’re here.”

***

One of the first lessons Zach had learned in the army was how to make snap judgments about a situation. They weren’t always accurate, of course, and often times when he applied that technique to social interactions, he got himself into trouble. But he hadn’t been able to suppress the habit since getting back, and the moment he had stepped into this apartment he had immediately come to one very simple conclusion.

Polard was not to be trusted.

It wasn’t any one particular thing that stood out, but the overall impression was undeniable. The man looked a little haggard, but his finely-stitched cotton shirt and trousers were way out-of-place for anyone living in a dive like this. A single glance at his kitchen similarly revealed a collection of dinnerware appropriate for an upscale restaurant.

Clearly, Danev had been right: appearances could be deceiving. But beyond the subtle lifestyle idiosyncrasies, Zach found Polard’s behavior suspect all by itself. He certainly looked a little surprised to see his old friend, but not completely flabbergasted. It meant that he was either a man that played his emotions close to his chest…or that he’d been expecting them.

And if that was the case, it meant they needed to be careful. Zach shared a glance with Aram, and in that single moment he knew the other man had drawn the same conclusion.

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Polard whispered after Eve told him about the murder. “She was a good woman.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not exactly an isolated incident these days,” Danev said. “Magi all across the country are under attack.”

Polard nodded gravely. “Something I know all too well.”

“But you’ve stayed here, right in the center of all of it,” Zach pointed out. He belatedly realized how accusatory that sounded and quickly corrected himself. “I just mean, it seems like it would be dangerous to live here.”

“It’s my home,” Polard said with a heavy smile. “I’m quite stubborn when I want to be. Just ask Gregori.”

“We all are in our own way,” Danev replied coolly. “But what are you doing here, Jack? How are you making a living?”

The other man’s eyes narrowed. “Is this you asking or the Enclave?”

Danev waved a hand dismissively. “I haven’t had anything to do with them in a long time. I’m genuinely curious.”

Polard sighed. “I fix people on the side. Been doing it for almost nine years now. It pays for everything I need and keeps the heat off.”

“You’re a
doctor
?” Eve asked incredulously.

The man grunted. “Doctor? Oh, please, I wouldn’t have anything to do with those charlatans. All their tests and instruments just to tell someone what’s plainly obvious if they actually looked.” He shook his head. “I’m a trained healer, and given how hard these people have made life on magi, I’m the only one I know of in the city. It’s amazing how fast even a gun-toting Dusty will come around when he gets his hand crushed at the textile mill.”