Episode 6 - Thunder Across a Blue Sky

  Chapter 56 - Golden Chain

  “That’s what you’re wearing?”

  I look down at myself. “What's wrong with what I’m wearing? Why?”

  Shion raises an eyebrow and purses her lips. “Always cracked-cog chic. No matter. You ready?”

  “Ready for what?” I look back over at Adrian, who lifts a blanket off a nearby table and flops one corner over his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t ask me,” he mutters, arranging the edges of the blanket over his chest and the nest, and fussing with a frayed edge.

  “Thought we might put on a little birthday party,” purrs Shion with obvious satisfaction at her ploy.

  “You’re about a month late. Where? Here?”

  “Out. I booked us a private room at the President’s Club,” continues Shion, watching Adrian closely as he continues to pick at the blanket. “Do you need a hand with that?”

  I pull my pocket knife from my pants and place it on the desk beside Adrian.

  Adrian leans sideways and grabs the knife, unlocking the mechanism and popping the blade out with a smooth flick of his wrist. “No, I’ve got it.” He pulls the edges of the blanket over the blade, trimming the frayed edges.

  “A birthday party then? I’m surprised you all remembered,” I say, tugging on the edges of my cropped jacket. “They got a dress code?”

  “No one could forget our pet Squall. Although technically we’re doing it as your one-year anniversary. Same difference. It is a President’s Club though. Put on something with a collar at least,” suggests Shion.

  “You could’ve waited till Nessa was home,” I say.

  “Her job was a bit last minute. We weren’t expecting her to be in the field,” explains Adrian, putting my knife back on the table for me. I scoop it up and slip it back into a pocket.

  “It’ll be small,” concedes Shion. “But all the better to enjoy some fond company.”

  I roll my eyes. “Let me go change then. You could’ve told me before I came downstairs.” Adrian doesn’t react to my reprimand.

  “We’ll meet you in the lobby?” suggests Shion.

  “Yeah, sure. Give me ten.”

  As I exit the elevator and into the lobby, there is a small crowd of people waiting. Blake has his hands on the back of Adrian’s wheelchair, crutches under one arm. It’s not the electric one but a much smaller foldable model, a few of the armory and other support staff standing nearby as they chat while the tall, bullish young man listens with a frown.

  Mia is standing bent over her desk, rapidly typing whatever last-minute work she is still trying to complete. A green headscarf is wrapped around her head and shoulders, and loud bangles on her wrists clink as she moves.

  Everett Hawthorne, the only child of Aquila’s Chief Executive, or Rhett as he is more often known, leans on the other side of her desk standing up on his toes slightly as he bends across the reception desk to look at her screen while she types. He’s the shortest of us all, only a fraction shorter than I am, with lean, broad muscular shoulders and crisp, confident efficiency to his every movement. Dressed tonight in ?black slacks and a dark grey collared shirt, he has rolled his sleeves up just above his elbows, revealing his corded forearms. The sides of his head are trimmed short, the rest of his coffee-brown hair is almost longer than my own, braided over the top of his head and hanging down his back in a single plait, with the occasional roguish curl coming loose down its length. His eyes dart as he reads whatever is on Mia’s screen, flashing bright, elemental-cobalt blue.

  Self-conscious, I tug at the collar of my suit. It’s my first custom fit, although Shion helped me pick it out. It’s a warm taupe that goes with my sienna-brown eyes and grey-streaked hair, with wide legs and a paper-bag waistline given I can’t stand anything too tightly fitting. It could use more pockets. Underneath, I wear a black turtleneck, preferring simplicity.

  Hands are on my shoulders before I even have a chance to fix myself, and Shion spins me to face her, lips tight as she smooths a few creases on my suit jacket.

  “Better,” she mutters. “It’d be even better if you cared for it properly.”

  “I’ve been out of town for weeks. You can forgive me for some lazy laundering.” Shion is extraordinary in a perfect warm white suit and extravagant golden accents, her fingernails all painted a matching pearlescent white. The choice of wig today is a sharp black bob. Even her eyeshadow matches her outfit.

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  Shion clicks her tongue. “I’ll never forgive not dressing well. You got any jewelry yet?”

  “No, why would I? Vello’s better spent on paper.”

  She pulls a fine gold chain from her pocket and spins me again, ignoring my half-voiced objection as she does so. She drapes it over my head, and I feel her hands on the back of my neck closing the clasp. “Gold suits your eyes,” she murmurs into my ear. “It’s a birthday present.”

  I lift a hand slowly and touch the chain, feeling the texture of the links between my fingertips. As I wait while she folds the neckline of my turtleneck again and settles the gold against the black fabric, I look over at the waiting crowd again and catch a pair of blue eyes watching me with curious intensity. Before I can meet them, Shion spins me again and adjusts the necklace from the front.

  “I’ll buy you a pendant for it next year.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Ah, but I did.” Then she clears her throat and raises her voice, not looking away from me as she addresses the other waiting employees. “I’ve been notified that Regina is joining us.”

  I frown, assessing her expression. There is ?silence from the waiting crowd at those words.

  “Are we waiting for her?” I ask Shion quietly.

  “No, the Queen will meet us there. She’s coming from something else. C’mon.”

  High heels click as she leaves me to organize our group, always Director of Operations on and off the clock. Shion steps up to Blake, taking the crutches to help carry them. She’s the only one who comes anywhere near Blake’s height. Adrian seems distracted as I watch Blake begin to push him onwards. His eyes seem slightly glazed, as if he is elsewhere, talking to someone in the field. There might not be the space for his electric chair where we are going as well. Always so much planning.

  Rhett pauses, continuing to lean on Mia’s desk as he waits for most of the group to take off ahead of us out the doors, and I fall into step at his side. He tucks his hands into his pockets as we trail behind everyone.

  “When’d you get back?” he asks as we step out onto the twilight of the streets and take a turn towards the center of the business district.

  “Only a few hours ago. I barely showered before they sprang this on me,” I mutter, twisting the new necklace in my fingers still.

  “Hmm. It happens sometimes. Long one?”

  I sigh. “It took ages to find what we were looking for. I’m never complaining about cleaning the bathrooms again. That work was backbreaking.”

  “What was it?”

  I cough slightly. “Uh, I’d rather not talk about work. What’s been happening since I was gone?”

  Rhett has his head hunched as we walk, eyes on the pavement in front of our feet. “Fair. I tracked down a new species of palm I didn’t have. A Livistona.”

  “Oh, where’d you get it from?”

  “Some old contacts tipped me off that a research lab out of Fengxian was going under. I got it added to a shipment of second-hand equipment they were transporting for someone else.”

  “Uh huh, very aboveboard, I’m sure. How come I can’t slip things, but you get to have your cobs smuggle you rare plants?”

  Rhett clears his throat, watching a stranger pass us suspiciously with one eye and lowering his voice. “I know what I’m doing. You’re a threat to the business, whether that’s lying to us about side-projects or causing trouble.”

  I bat a hand in his general direction. “Pfft. I dunno what you are talking about. By the way, I thought you didn’t like this sort of thing?”

  “What thing?”

  “Drinks? Going out?”

  Rhett scratches his chin. “No, I don’t.”

  I bump him with my hip as we walk. “Special occasion then?”

  He barely shifts, lifting his head to look back up at the rest of the Aquila employees walking ahead of us. His jaw is set with familiar tense passivity. “Maybe.”

  I frown, annoyed that my tease didn’t get the reaction I was hoping for, and drift to silence, not really sure where to take the conversation next.

  He sighs, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Don’t fight with Mum,” he warns suddenly.

  I recoil slightly, unsure of where this has come from. “What do you mean?”

  “Shion said she wasn’t coming. If she… I don't know, says something weird, don’t do your usual thing. Just let it slide.”

  I twist the new gold chain around my finger, letting my arm hang from it around my neck. “Okay?”

  “Sorry. You look good, by the way. The necklace suits you.”

  I blink, letting it fall to my chest and suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Uh, thanks.” Then, in an effort to try and dispel the mood, “Should I expect something from you?”

  He huffs a breath out his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You didn’t get me anything when it was my birthday? I don’t see why you would think I’m getting you something.”

  “You can’t seriously expect the little cog-employees to be buying birthday presents for the executives?”

  That gets a dark bark of amusement. “We’ll see then. No promises.”

  “What if I’m really good?”

  He raises an eyebrow, finally turning to look at me while we walk, the edge of his mouth curling. “We both know that’s impossible.”

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  by D. N. Newyn

  He can’t conjure grief, can barely levitate a pebble, and once submitted a stanza instead of a spell schematic.

  Fabrisse Kestovar: aspiring thaumaturge rock collector, confirmed pastry enthusiast, and perhaps the least emotionally competent student in the Order’s seven-hundred-year history.

  PRAXIS NODE, a long-dormant, possibly AI-driven interface that delivers cryptic quests, sarcastic prompts, and calibration objectives measured in light-years. He has a Legacy Token, no combat thresholds, and a growing collection of useless rocks the system insists are ‘historically significant.’

  He’s also the only one who can see any of it.