Vagabonds Read online

  The smart one stood alone, the others having been shot through the heart once each by the very pistol that’d been their source of power. Ifon threw the thing on one of the bodies.

  “Such a vulgar tool,” he sneered, standing a scant pace away from the smart one, who had come down with a bout of the shakes. “As for you, I suggest you return to your hovel and forget what you saw here. Now, run along,” Ifon said, turning the man bodily and giving him a shove.

  The man stumbled forward, nearly falling as he came to his senses and broke into a sprint, slammed face-first into a street sign, yelped, then continued his flight while holding his face.

  “How merciful of you,” said Sejit, voice heavy with sarcasm, “But I am left curious. You deride Tess for her means, then use the very same.”

  “With her actions, Tess challenged me. She sought to use a mortal tool against me. That is the insult. As for the man, well...” he cast a pointed look towards the now deserted corners and vacant streets, “Gods need their preachers.”

  “Seems a poor choice of a preacher.”

  “No, his sort is precisely what I need. His congregation won’t believe the entire story, of course, but rumor spreads on blood,” Ifon said, checking himself over for spatter. Satisfied he’d dodged any errant drops, he adjusted his dress uniform.

  Too brazen, too risky. Never changes, Sejit thought, letting out a sigh of reminiscence and jealousy. He is going to get caught. But then… It has been quite some time since he became the Sovereign.

  “Is this the temple you wish to build for your flock?” Sejit said, using her arms to take in the whole of the tenements.

  “I admit it’s less than ideal, but we all need worshipers, do we not?”

  “If it were a thousand years ago, I would agree, but when was the last time belief accomplished anything?”

  Ifon made the face of a man, a god, who had found a mewling cub without its mother and could not bear to listen to its cries.

  “You have lost sight of so much. We are who we are, and it is in our blood, our essence, to seize upon it. We are gods. You knew that once.”

  “I have not forgotten. I have simply… learned.”

  Ifon shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line, “Then we will clash, after all. It may not be today or tomorrow, but it will come.”

  “It will be upon us sooner than you think,” Sejit said, making one final effort, “If you kill her kin.”

  “Enough!” Ifon snarled, “Let her come for me. If the deaths of a few mortals are all it takes to incense you and her, then perhaps only a few more need die for you to do more than bitch.”

  Sejit’s heart thumped, blood rushed to her head. “Bitch? I will show you—No. I will not buy into your taunts,” she said through grit teeth.

  “Of course not,” Ifon remarked, drifting away—but a few steps in, he paused and spoke with his back still facing her, “We could have accomplished so much, you and I.”

  Her whole body shook, but she could only watch as he grew distant on heavy steps. The same weight pressed upon her. All in all, everything went straight to shit, just as she predicted. In some sense Sejit had anticipated her visit would advance the inevitable, but who knows, she was, on the rare occasion, wrong. She could have been wrong about Ifon. Might even be wrong about the danger Tess presented.

  That would be a pleasant surprise.

  But we know the truth.

  Do we? You have been talkative as of late. Have you forgotten I have no need of you?

  …

  Worse yet, her meeting had not done much in answering questions. Doubt crept into her mind, that insidious poison. He dodged her accusation regarding Julian for a reason. Perhaps she should have divulged the source of her information regarding Tess? It may have pushed Daontys and Ifon into hostilities. Pushed him closer to her.

  No.

  No, it would have only made him feel like a cornered animal. Made him feel as if Daontys was positioning for an alliance with her. She had made the right call.

  What she needed were answers. There was a solution to that problem, but one that needed time to properly develop and mature before it could be fully utilized. She could accelerate it, put it into play soon, but the results would unpredictable and risk of failure high. Unacceptably high.

  How much time did she have?

  Not enough to waste, she concluded.

  The margin for unacceptable shifted.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I have to what?” Sophia gasped, mouth hanging open. There she was, all ready and set to go home and sleep for the entire weekend when Sejit called her into her office. Why did she ever think something good would happen? Why would anything good ever happen?

  “Leave the country,” Sejit repeated, “Ifon will be looking to goad me into action. If he discovers our connection, you will become a priority target.”

  “And where the hell am I going to go?”

  The lion goddess clicked her mouse a few times and tacked away on the keys. “Suultov. I have just e-mailed you your itinerary. Your flight will depart late tonight. A packet of fake identification documents will be waiting for you in the mail room on your way out.”

  A globe of the world spun in Sophia’s mind. Being a smaller, rather unimportant country, it took her a moment to remember where it was—and she only knew because it was on the northern border of her home country, Erton. “Suultov? That little frozen nowhere? Why there?”

  “You will be staying with my son,” Sejit said as she continued working on her computer.

  Sophia clenched her eyes, as if shutting everything out would make it all go away, reduce it to a bad joke. But, when they opened again, nothing changed. She tottered forward, pulled out one of the padded chairs in front of Sejit’s desk, and sank into it.

  “You already work me ragged, now you want me to stay with some guy I’ve never met before. For how long?”

  “As long as required. I must not only see to matters with Ifon and Daontys, but with the forthcoming election as well. My trip to see Ifon caused a stir and now I must soothe a number of ruffled feathers,” Sejit said, wearily.

  “And Tarkit is fine with this?”

  “Yes.”

  “I bet he wasn’t happy about it, though,” Sophia said, but shot up as she remembered something important: “And what about my cats? I can’t just leave them!”

  “He was actually delighted to know you would be staying with him. As well, you may bring your cats with you—he has a fondness for them.”

  It was so like Sejit to have thought of everything, an answer for everything. To tell her, with absolutely no notice, that she was being sent away to some country of snow and fjords whose economy relied mostly on skiing—the nerve!

  “And what if I say no?” Sophia said, puffing out her chest.

  Sejit’s tacking came to a slow halt. The way she looked at Sophia made her feel like a hunted rabbit. “Then you will, in all likelihood, die. I have no doubt Ifon will examine all my employees. A keen nose will sniff out your association to me and he knows I would not risk retaliating over an unrelated mortal.”

  Sophia didn’t like it, but it was reasonable. Totally, completely, entirely reasonable. But wait.

  “If he can track down Tess’ family, can’t he find your son, too?”

  Sophia’s lips hadn’t the chance to meet after her last syllable than Sejit bark off her response.

  “He would not dare.”

  Her question hadn’t really been answered, but even Sophia knew where the boundaries were. Another step and she’d set off a mine. Though maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; she wouldn’t have to fly to another country. Then again, if she stayed, simple murder would be the kindest thing that could happen to her.

  “Fine, whatever,” Sophia said, dragging herself along, “I’ll go. I guess I have packing to do. My kitties are going to be even less happy about this than I am.”

  Sejit’s blazing intensity died out, leaving the usual Jasmine Reith, museum owner, at her
PC. “Good. Contact me when you arrive.”

  “Sure, mom.”

  Sophia despised flying.

  This had made her life traveling with her parents from site to site an ordeal.

  Sure, Sejit had obtained first-class tickets for her, but that didn’t alleviate the fact she was flying. One glance out the window was all it took to confirm she was at a height, where, if something were to happen, she’d have a long while to think about how fast the ground was coming up. A shorter plummet was preferable, say a few hundred feet. Just as lethal, but less time to worry about it.

  Something about the spacious accommodations in first-class made it worse, too. Economy may be cramped and noisy and some asshole was always kicking the seat behind her, but the simmering rage and hatred for those around her was just the thing to keep her mind distracted.

  If it wasn’t for the fact the first-class tickets meant her cats could ride in the spacious, personal luggage bins in the cabin, she would’ve traded places with someone in economy. She stuck a finger through the cat carrier’s wire door and poked at Samsa’s pink nose. He let out a sleepy mew, waking his brother Gregor, but they both drifted off to dreamland in a huddle after giving Sophia a bleary-eyed look.

  Having room to stand up and walk around, to visit her cats, was an entirely foreign and alarming concept on top of everything else. Money was scary.

  Trying to sleep in her reclining, sofa-like seat was even scarier. Just as her eyes would close, there’d be a noise, or the aircraft would jostle, sending her twitchy mind into a tizzy. The only salve for her wounds was the stewardess, bless her, and her supply of cosmopolitans. They weren’t good, probably came out of a pre-mixed container, and they were suspiciously weak, but it was all she had.

  Clutching the blanket like a child afraid of monsters under her bed, she forced her eyes shut and thought of Sejit’s son, Tarkit. She’d mentioned him a few times here and there but never went into any length or detail. She wondered what he’d be like. Being raised by her, what were the odds he was as haughty and arrogant? Could she live with someone like that?

  The aircraft shimmied just enough to give the remainder of her drink a shake. Her heart froze and her eyes flew open.

  She envied her cats.

  Sophia ambled down the jetway and through the terminal, pushing a cart containing the over-sized cat carrier and her two pieces of luggage. One backpack for her clothes and laptop, and one travel bag for everything else she’d need—in the short term, at least. Despite the stewardess cutting her off a while before landing, she was still buzzed. And frayed like an old rope. But, the long trek was over and Sophia set her mind to the task of finding Tarkit.

  She glanced around. Nothing remarkable about the airport terminal. Seeing one meant seeing them all, after all, minor layout differences aside. Arriving on the red-eye flight meant her follow passengers disembarking tripled the number of people in the smallish airport, which made figuring out her mark easier.

  “A man in his 50s, huh,” she breathed to herself as she passed the baggage claim. From a distance she could hear a couple asking each other if they’d seen a particular bag go round on the carousel, to which there was a deep sigh and a ‘No.’

  Good thing she’d packed light.

  There were several candidates who matched the simple description she’d been given, but one stood out. Even if she hadn’t been given an age to go off, she would’ve picked him out based on the criteria of ‘Most likely to be Sejit’s son.’ Things like a solid build, handsomeness, maybe four legs and an unusual amount of fur.

  He was off to the side of the terminal, seated next to a potted ficus of questionable health. His face may have been creased and wrinkled and both his hair and well-groomed, full-face beard had succumbed to the gray menace, but he wasn’t slouched or weighed down by the ravages of time. He sat bolt upright, eyes closed and trunk-like-arms crossed across the expanse of his chest. On a somewhat worrying note, he was wearing a heavy jacket. Sophia hadn’t thought to pack one quite that warm.

  For once, she would’ve liked to not be towered over by the gods. Although, there was Wophin, but he didn’t count, seeing as how he didn’t feel godly. Maybe it was the height.

  Sophia approached, the one dodgy cartwheel squeaking across the tile floor. Once she’d gotten within a couple feet she fumbled for the words to announce herself, to ask if he was who she was looking for.

  His eyes flew open, cutting short her hesitation to ask with a start.

  He smiled and sprang to his feet. To her surprise, he wasn’t as tall as she’d assumed. Granted, for her, almost everyone else was taller, but he was… normal, in that regard.

  “You must be Sophia!” His voice thundered across the lobby.

  “Y-yes,” Sophia said, shifting one foot behind herself in case she needed to flee, “You’re Tarkit?”

  “That I am,” said the man, thrusting a hand as big as a lion’s paw towards Sophia. She eyed it warily, before deciding it was probably safe enough and shook it.

  “Glad to meet you, and sorry for making you take care of me.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance as well, young lady. And it’s nothing,” he said with a warm smile, adding to the already numerous wrinkles and creases around his eyes, “I owe my mother a great many things. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Your mother,” she echoed, her mind having some difficulty in establishing a connection between “Sejit” and “Mother,” despite the fact she knew she was a mother. It was one thing to know, to have name tagged with “Son” and quite another to stand before him.

  “Having her as your mother must be something else.”

  “You don’t know the half of it!” He laughed, “The stories I could tell! But those will have to wait, don’t you think? Do you have any other luggage?” His gaze turned towards the rows of conveyors at the far end of the lobby, “Perhaps they have not yet lost it.”

  “Nah. Just this and my cats,” she said, waving towards the carrier on the cart, “If I need more clothes or whatever I can just buy some since who knows how long I’ll be staying with you.”

  “Oh? How rare! Why, my daughters were always packing countless suitcases no matter how short a trip was. It was as if they were afraid their clothes would just fly away and not be there when they returned… Though,” he added, stooping down to glance inside the cat carrier, “Ma did not tell me there’d be three guests.”

  Sophia bit her lip. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all, not at all. Cats are most welcome in my home, though I daresay you may find getting them to leave a challenge.”

  “Huh? How come?”

  “They find the company enjoyable, you could say… But, come! I’d much prefer a chat near a cozy fireplace rather than the airport.”

  Tarkit began walking towards the exit, not bothering to wait for Sophia’s response. She scampered after him, catching up just as the doors slid open to let the burly son of Sejit pass. The frigid blast of wind that met the pair pierced straight through her hooded sweatshirt.

  “Cold!”

  “It is a bit chilly this morning, isn’t it? I was going to ask if that sweatshirt was enough for you, seeing how you’re a beanpole. Ah well! A bit of brisk weather is good for you. Builds resilience and character!”

  She’d been outside for seconds and already goosebumps shot up wherever they could.

  “Builds hypothermia is more like it,” Sophia complained, struggling to keep her teeth from chattering as they crossed the desolate parking lot. Samsa and Gregor were letting out their own noisy complaints about the sudden weather change. “I know, I know…” She said, for all the good it’d do to placate them.

  The expanse of tarmac was practically devoid of vehicles, but quite full of snow and ice. It wasn’t as if she’d never experienced cold before. She’d grown up not all that far, globally speaking, south of where she was now. So, her shivering and teeth-chattering must be due to the small detail that she’d been living in a desert c
ountry the past three years.

  Dodging patches of ice, they came up on Tarkit’s SUV, parked mercifully close. Sophia estimated it hadn’t even been two minutes in the cold, and already she was ready to just lay down and let winter claim her. She lifted the carrier into the truck and tossed her bag in just the same, but then had the horrifying realization she’d have to take the cart back. Somewhere in her mind she knew the terminal wasn’t far, but in this cold it may as well have been across the continent.

  “Allow me,” Tarkit said with an easy smile, handing Sophia a jacket he’d plucked from inside the truck, “Put this on and hop in.”

  “T-thanks,” she said, slipping her arms into the sleeves. It was partially frozen from sitting in the truck, but it offered a wonderful reprieve from the gales—and because it was one of Tarkit’s, it covered her all the way down to her knees.

  She jumped into the passenger seat; Tarkit had thrown her the keys before he left to return the cart, telling her to turn on the seat warmers for him in return. The instant she pressed the button, she melted into the leather, barely cognizant that the vents took a while to stop blowing cold air in her face.

  Tarkit returned and like that, they drove off. “Nice, aren’t they? Don’t know how I lived without them.”

  “What’s that?” Sophia said, huddled within the jacket.

  “The heated seats.”

  “Oh. Yeah, they’re nice… though not really necessary in Yosel.”

  “It can still get chilly out in the desert at night.”

  “I suppose. Nothing like this, though.”

  Tarkit hummed, and Sophia turned her attention out the window into the darkness beyond. The airport was scarcely a mile behind them before the street lights had vanished. No city lights she could spy in any direction. It was so dark it was all she could do to see a few feet beyond the side of the two-lane highway.