We were seated at a panelled oak table in a room directly under Moran's office which was accessible by a trapdoor underneath her official chair. At the IBO! It was an irony. But I was not dwelling too much on that.
Iria did not seem to care about sister Nei's disappearance. She rebuffed my constant questions nonchalantly and focused more on her complex plans. Now that sister Nei was gone, I was incorporated into the team. Or sect. Whatever it was.
There were half a dozen people, magic users, who reported to Iria every now and then. Spies. Versatile mages. Dangerous looking. I was nervous sitting in the same room as them, but Iria paid no attention to me.
"Is everything ready?" She asked one, a small square cloth tied to his lower face. He reeked of something that resembled the smell of sister Nei's powders. Was he an alchemist too?
"Yes, clan leader. General Zarin is awaiting your order," he replied with a bow of his head. Iria nodded satisfactorily and waved a hand at another mage who was keeping to the corner of the dark room.
"Twiaro, that means you should prepare. We travel to Savitro Zhan. I don't want to be in Valencia when General Zarin strikes."
Moran raised her head.
"Iria,--"
There was a slight cough from the pretty mage called Twiaro. Certainly it was great guts for Moran to call Iria by name.
But Moran continued without being interrupted.
"-- what about me? The Investigation Bureau Office will be thrown into quandary if I just disappear,"
"We need all the warriors we can get," Iria replied, "and you keeping your job as Senior Officer is crucial to our plan. So gather the loyal officers you trained yourself and find some explanation to give them of you leaving the capital urgently."
Moran frowned.
"I also have someone I report to--"
"You should be able to sort things out on your own," Iria snapped, and her eyes fell on me.
"Rudolph."
I scowled at her. Now what I hated most was sitting through countless meetings without saying a word. Not that I was not allowed to talk. But what could I say?
Iria sighed when she saw my expression. Her hands rubbed her right shoulder, and I wondered why she always did that when she thought about sister Nei.
"Nei, that silly girl--where could she be? Skulking somewhere, I bet, waiting for me to come begging on my knees," she shook her head and fell silent. Everyone around the table had their eyes on her, waiting for instructions. I wondered where she had found them, why they respected her so much. Because as far as I knew, these people weren't Hakorhi. Sister Nei had said that she and Iria and I were the last Hakorhi left.
"Dismissed," Iria said finally, "Khuri, I need you to team up with me. We have to find Nei. We can't leave for Savitro Zhan without her and I'm planning to leave tomorrow."
Big deal. Iria wanted to find sister Nei within a night.
***
I sat crosslegged in the underground room after everyone left. Everyone except Moran. I and Iria also sort of lived here now. We couldn't manage ourselves above ground without sister Nei.
I closed my eyes and shut out all stray thoughts. I didn't think I could do it, but I wanted to try. There was nothing else. Iria ignored me most of the time. I had to depend on myself now.
Dark. Black. Nothing.
What now?
Make a mind image. Of what? A silver light danced across the dark. Who else? My parents. I was almost obsessed with them. Neither sister Nei nor Iria knew how I felt. Jealous. They had got to spend at least ten years with our parents. I had never even seen them. No memory of them. When I was young, about five years old, I used to dream of a burning house. Of someone clasping me to a soft chest. It was horrible.
My mind image revolved, colors. No sense. What did I want to conjure? I wanted my parents. Thzarmir and Shathelia Hakorhi, sister Nei had told me their names. Father had been clan prince. I wanted to be like him.
But did I? I didn't even know him. I had only seen his image once, and he mostly spoke to sister Nei. He didn't talk to me.
I gasped as a face finally took shape in the swirling mass of colors. Not a brown clay skin with black hair. Not a fiercely dark skin with long silver hair.
"My baby,"
I frowned. I only knew two women in my life, who were my family. And another I had seen in a mind image. And this woman, who resembled me in a freaking way, was neither of them.
Except something was fiercely wrong.
My whole life had been a lie.
I was not an Hakorhi.
.....
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