Ruban bit back a yawn, his fingers crawling haltingly over the squeaky keyboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Faiz slouched at his desk, his head drooping forward.
On any other day of the week, Ruban would have yelled at him for being lethargic. But this was a Wednesday. And Wednesdays were different.
Ruban rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to get them to focus on his screen. The report, due in less than two days, swam in and out of his vision, determined to give him a headache.
Across the room, Dai grumbled under his breath, hidden behind the teetering stack of folders piled high on his desk.
Barring emergencies, Wednesdays at the Hunter Quarters were set aside for paperwork – filing reports, updating inventories, reviewing interview transcripts, and various other types of drudgery. Ruban would have sold a kidney to be allowed a bit of field work just then.
Kitty, Hema's oversized gray cat, butted her head against his calf and meowed aggressively. Ruban jerked, yanked rudely from his pleasant trance. Disoriented, he looked around the office. Hema's desk was empty.
Planting his hands on his own desk, he pushed himself to his feet. Hema was probably down in the archives. And she'd apparently dragged Simani down with her. Ruban didn't envy his partner. Hema was the only one of them who actually enjoyed paperwork. The other Hunters regarded her enthusiasm for it with a healthy mixture of awe and abhorrence.
Kitty pawed at his leg and growled.
Cat food. He needed cat food. Where on earth was Rinku when one needed her?
With a sigh, Ruban dragged himself to the kitchen, trying to avoid stepping on Kitty's tail as she circled him excitedly.
Sellout. She only ever paid him any heed when she needed him to feed her.
Stepping into the tiny kitchen, he reached for the jar of dry cat food on the top shelf of the cupboard.
His fingers closed around the glass container. The ground shook below him. A deafening blast reverberated through the building, overwhelming his senses. The jar of dried tuna treats slipped from his fingers and shattered. With a terrified squawk, Kitty disappeared under the sink, her tail bushy.
Ruban grabbed the cabinet frame to steady himself, his free hand reaching for the sifblade at his belt.
The next few minutes were a flurry of smoke, blades, and bullets. The front wall – and part of the roof – had been blown to smithereens. Jagged pieces of metal and glass littered the floor where the front door once stood. The white reception desk was splattered with blood.
As Ruban fended off an Aeriel and two human assailants, he took a moment to be thankful that Rinku hadn't been at her desk when the onslaught began. Behind him, Faiz and Dai were fighting back to back, surrounded by half a dozen armed men and an Aeriel.
Ruban recognized some of the men as members of the Qawirsin. The IAW maintained files on many of them. Neither of the two Aeriels were X-class, which perhaps explained why much of the building was still standing.
He dodged an energy shell and used that momentum to propel himself to the other side of the room. Once out of the Aeriel's line of sight, he took aim and pitched two sifkren at its wings, one after the other.
A shrill, inhuman scream rent the air, and the creature collapsed.
One of the two men attacking Ruban shrieked and ran. White-faced and wide-eyed, the other one began shooting at him, his fingers shaky and aim imprecise.
A shot rang out from somewhere further inside the Quarter. Moments later, the jittery young man was on the floor, a bullet hole in his chest and his t-shirt stained with blood.
Simani stood at the top of the staircase, her pistol held aloft.
At the sound of wings flapping, Ruban whirled. Just beyond the destroyed front wall, a third Aeriel floated inches above the ground. Ruban tightened his grip on the sifblade and raised it to his chest, ready to attack.
Behind him, the sounds of desks toppling and electronics crashing to the floor told him that Hema and Simani had joined the fray.
Seconds later, the new Aeriel was upon him and all other thoughts fled Ruban's mind. They should've been better prepared, but no Aeriel had ever dared attack a Hunter Quarter before. Even in the months after Tauheen's return, such things were unheard of.
As he dodged and parried the Aeriel's attacks, Ruban caught Hema's eye and signaled wordlessly, ordering her to call for backup.
The next moment, he found himself slammed into a concrete pillar. Pain flared in the back of his head. Instinctively, he took a swipe with his sifblade.
A sharp, aborted cry. Then, light spilled forth from the Aeriel's lacerated abdomen.
A vicious strike to the side of his head made Ruban's vision swim, his grip on consciousness slipping. Once again, the Aeriel slammed him into the pillar. He blinked, the pain dragging him out of the stupor he'd been sinking into.
"Tell your bosses at the IAW," the Aeriel growled, its lips inches from Ruban's ear. "The Hunter Corps is digging its own grave by antagonizing Qawirsin. The days of the IAW's hegemony over the feather market are gone. This is a new era. And unless it wants more death and mayhem, the IAW would do well to learn how to share."
So close to the Aeriel, two things struck Ruban at once. One, he'd never heard an Aeriel talk like that. And second, he had seen this one before.
How had it taken him so long to recognize it? Her?
Kaheen.
That's what Ashwin had called the Aeriel that'd killed four Hunters right before his eyes, less than a fortnight ago.
Kaheen leaned further into his space, still talking. But not like any Aeriel he'd ever heard before.
Aeriels tended to be grandiose and dramatic; or alternatively, terse and dismissive. But they were never so…practical. So grounded.
Aeriels spoke of dominion and conquest and glory. Even the ones he'd met in Vaan, even Ashwin, tended to think more along the lines of art and aesthetics. They didn't talk about market hegemonies and trade conflicts between government agencies and the underworld.
"I take it this is a message from Janak Nath," he choked out, trying to free himself from Kaheen's punishing hold.
"Not a message. A warning." Dark amusement colored the Aeriel's voice. "Consider this payback for that ambush out in the fields."
Ruban grinned, ignoring the pain flaring at the base of his skull. "Janak Nath believes he can intimidate the IAW into a compromise? Whatever he's smoking, it's worth its weight in gold."
Kaheen's fingers tightened around his neck. "How hard can it be? Those lying, hypocritical cowards threw him and Ashfaq to the wolves for letting an Aeriel escape, even unintentionally. And now they're working with Aeriels themselves. What's the going rate for an IAW official these days?"
Ruban gasped, his lungs burning. "What're you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me." Kaheen winced, clasping a hand over the wound in her gut. "I suppose I should've known. You killed Tauheen. And my mother. There had to be something to you. You couldn't be ordinary."
"Your mother?" he frowned. "You mean, Tauheen was–"
"Not her. Reivaa. Although, I guess you already know that." Her lips twisted into the mockery of a smile. "You've got the prince wrapped around your little finger, after all. How did you get him to do it? Put his own life at risk to lay a trap for the mafia, on behalf of the Hunter Corps? I thought Vaan had a policy of non-interference. Isn't that why they locked us out? So why're they getting involved now, after all this time? Has the IAW made a deal with Vaan? With Safaa?"
"A deal with–" Ruban wheezed, not enough air in his lungs to form a proper laugh. "You think the IAW has dealings with the queen of Vaan? You're even more deluded than Janak–"
"Kitty! Stop!"
With a terrified squawk, the gray cat shot out of the kitchen and sprinted across the derelict hallway. Rinku, disheveled and wild-eyed, ran out after her.
The sizzle of gathering energy wrenched Ruban's attention back to Kaheen.
"No!" He tackled her.
But it was too late. A flick of her wrist, and the pearly shell streaked through the air, heading straight for the petrified Rinku.
Someone leapt forward. The shell detonated with a deafening roar.
Through the dust, smoke, and debris, Ruban saw Dai lying at Rinku's feet, his clothes charred and blood-soaked.
***
Dai's funeral was perhaps less elaborate than Subhas Kinoh's had been, but it was no less crowded.
Shwaan grabbed Kitty by the scruff of her neck and slipped behind a large fig tree. The mafia's attack on the South Ragah Division Hunter Quarter had made international news. The funeral venue was teeming with reporters.
And the reputation he'd painstakingly cultivated last year – that of an aristocratic blabbermouth – drew the press to him like bees to a honeypot.
Shwaan sighed.
Empathizing with his frustration, Kitty dug her claws into his wrist.
He flipped her over with one hand and seized her paws with the other. If he'd been human, his cuffs would've been soaked in blood. As it was, the claw marks disappeared before they'd even had a chance to form. Pulling on the sleeves of his stifling Zainian tunic, he glanced around to make sure no one had noticed their little scuffle.
Closer to the podium, Ruban was speaking quietly with Hema, as some minor politician delivered a drawn-out speech a few feet away. Rinku was crying, her head resting on Faiz's shoulder. The latter had his arms around her, and was whispering soothingly into her ear.
She'd been crying incessantly since the funeral proceedings began. Which was how Shwaan had ended up on cat duty. Ordinarily, he wouldn't mind. He liked Kitty. She reminded him of Miranki – fluffy and temperamental.
It'd been a while since he last saw his sister's pet firebird. It'd been a while since he last saw his sister.
In the periphery of his vision, a camera flashed. Balancing Kitty precariously in his arms, Shwaan turned to flee. This was the problem. Cats and reporters were hard enough to manage individually. Together, they were a nightmare.
"Lord Kwan," a shrill voice beckoned him, prompting a hiss from Kitty.
Shwaan closed his eyes, tamping down on the urge to unfurl his wings and fly away. In a crematorium full of Hunters, he probably wouldn't get very far. Pasting on a smile, he turned around. At least Casia Washi wasn't here. One had to count the small mercies.
"Lord Kwan, what do you think about the increased Aeriel activity in Ragah since Tauheen's death?" The large-eyed, brown-haired woman stepped forward, holding out her microphone to Shwaan. "Do you believe that, perhaps, shattering the Aeriel hierarchy by killing their queen was a mistake on the part of the Hunter Corps? What's Zaini's stance on the recent Aeriel attack on a Hunter Quarter? Are they preparing for a similar escalation of hostilities?"
Still smiling, Shwaan glanced down at the press card around her neck. CXN News. One of Viman Rai's lackeys, then. He did train them well, Shwaan had to give him that. If he wasn't the one being put on the spot, he'd appreciate this intrepid pursuit of a story against all odds.
"I – uh – it does seem to be turning into quite the problem, doesn't it?" Thankfully, no one expected Ashwin Kwan to say anything particularly intelligent or insightful. "I daresay the ambassador will be better equipped to tell you how Zaini plans to collaborate with Vandram to overcome the growing menace of the feather mafia."
"I'm sure. But, in your opinion, could Tauheen's death last year have been a reason for this attack–"
"Ashwin! Thank God I found you." Kitty startled, hissing, as Simani joined them under the fig tree. "Ruban will be taking the podium any minute now. You don't want to miss his speech, do you?" Without waiting for a response, she slipped an arm through his, offered an apologetic smile to the reporter, and strode off, dragging Shwaan and Kitty in her wake.
By the time Simani came to a stop, they had crossed the podium and reached the other – less crowded – end of the venue. Shwaan could hear Ruban's somber voice, amplified by the microphone, but the words were indistinct.
Kitty wriggled in his arms and meowed apprehensively.
"I wonder if she knows he died to save her." Simani's gaze was fixed on the distant podium as she scratched Kitty under the chin. The cat purred happily in response.
"I wonder if she knows why she's here." Shwaan sighed, adjusting her weight in his arms. "I know I don't."
"Rinku wanted to bring her. And I told Ruban to bring you because I knew she wouldn't be in any state to look after Kitty once she got to the venue."
"Honored to know you think me a capable cat-sitter."
"You're good with the children." She shrugged. "How different can it be?"
"Not very. Do you have her harness?"
Simani flicked open her handbag and handed him the harness and leash. After a bit of scratching and scuffle, Kitty was on the ground, head-butting their legs and sniffing the grass suspiciously. Shwaan wrapped the leash once around his fingers and slipped both hands into his pockets.
"Something on your mind?" he asked, after a few minutes had passed in comfortable silence.
"Yes, actually." She lit a cigarette and offered him the pack. He shook his head. "Ruban's been acting a bit…odd, lately. You can't have failed to notice that."
Shwaan raised an eyebrow.
Simani huffed. "You and your Zainian wiles. You know perfectly well what I mean. He's been cagey, secretive. Always has information he shouldn't have access to, never tells us where he got it. Ever since Subhas died, Ruban's been different. And I don't know why. I thought it was just the shock but… It's more than that. I've never seen him like this before."
"I take it you have your suspicions." Kitty meowed and pawed at Shwaan's leg. He reached down and scratched her obligingly behind the ears. "You wouldn't be telling me all this if you didn't have a theory."
"It's just a theory. And I'm not good with theories. Facts – those I can work with." She shook her head as if to clear it. "So I want you to confirm it. Or not. But either way, I need answers, Ashwin."
He smiled, straightening. "It's flattering that you think I'd have them."
"You still want to play the dumb aristocrat with me?" She rolled her eyes. "I was the one who helped you leak the SifCo footage to CXN, remember? You aren't as stupid as you'd like us to believe. I've known that for a while now. And at this point, you're my best bet."
"What is it, then? This theory of yours? Let's have it."
"I think…" She flushed; bit her lip. "Well, to be honest, I think he's in contact with Aeriels."
As Shwaan's second eyebrow joined the first, she looked away, her color deepening. "Or at least one Aeriel. Look, I know it sounds ridiculous. But if you knew what I do, you'd agree that it's the only possibility that makes any sense."
"And what do you know?"
Simani frowned, cleared her throat. "I don't know if I should be telling you this. But I don't know who else to talk to. I don't want to cast aspersions, but–"
In the distance, Ruban's voice rose as his speech came to a close. Simani's gaze flicked over to the podium, then back again.
"But you're his friend, right? And you're not connected to the Hunter Corps or the IAW in any way. If it's safe to talk to anyone about this – if anyone can help me, help him – it's you."
The urge to fly away was stronger than ever, now. Shwaan dug his feet into the earth and inhaled deeply. He didn't need to breathe, but somehow, it always grounded him. Allowed him to partake in a vulnerability he'd never truly experience.
"What do you want from me, Simani?"
"I want you to tell me I'm wrong." She took a drag of her cigarette and blew smoke into the air. "And if you can't, then I want you to tell me what the hell is going on with my partner?"
"I don't–"
"Have you seen him…I don't know…meeting with Aeriels? Talking about them? Talking to them?"
"Talking to Aeriels?" Shwaan laughed. "Next thing I know, you'll be accusing him of having an affair with one. What's the matter, really? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on; what's made you think any of this."
A minute passed in silence as Simani smoked the last of her cigarette. "During the attack…" She tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stubbed it out with her foot. "At the Quarter…"
"Yes?" He prompted, as Kitty pounced on Simani's boot.
"One of the Aeriels attacking us was talking to Ruban. Threatening him."
"That's kind of what Aeriels do, isn't it? Hardly seems incriminating to me."
"I didn't hear all of it. There was too much mayhem." She threw up her hands. "Fighting. Killing. General destruction. But, the Aeriel said something, and I just… I can't get it out of my head." Her hands clenched into fists. "It accused the Hunter Corps of working with Aeriels. Said the IAW is collaborating with them."
"With Aeriels? The IAW?" Shwaan allowed himself a smile. "Well, clearly it was lying. There's no way that can be true."
Simani nodded. "A month ago, I would've been sure of it. But after what happened out in those fields–"
"What do you mean?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Hell, I wouldn't have believed me, if I hadn't seen it for myself. But there was this Aeriel that the mafia was supposed to be Hunting. And God knows how Ruban came to know about that. The information didn't come from the IAW; I checked with them." She shook her head. "Anyway, we planned an ambush. This was just after the attack in North Ragah. More than two hundred people were dead. And we thought, maybe if we could capture some of them…"
"You did. Ruban told me you arrested two members of the Qawirsin that night."
"Yes. But we wouldn't have, without help. If it weren't for that Aeriel, the one that the Qawirsin were supposed to be Hunting, I would've died that night. It was helping us. I don't know why, but it was. And the thing is, Ruban didn't seem surprised by that at all. If anything, he seemed to be expecting it."
"Simani." Shwaan held out his hands. "I know Ruban can be a bit…weird, at times. But you're probably overthinking this."
"I thought so, too. I wanted to believe it. But then, that Aeriel showed up at the Quarter and killed Dai–"
"The one that was helping you?"
The speeches had finally ended, and people were drifting away from the podium, spreading across the venue in clusters of five and six.
She shook her head. "No. Another one. The one which accused the IAW of working with Aeriels. It fled before the backup arrived, else we'd have had our answers by now. But it was there during the ambush, too. And it said something about…someone called Maya."
Shwaan flinched.
Simani's eyes lit up. "Do you know who that is? Or what?"
"No. I just–"
"Ashwin, please." She took his hands in hers, her eyes pleading. "I know you're loyal to Ruban. But I'm doing this for him. I want what is best for him, too. If you know anything, just…" She waved at Faiz and Rinku, who were approaching them from the other side of the venue. "Just let me know. Because if somebody else finds out about it before us, it could destroy him. It could destroy everything."
***
A few minutes later, Rinku and Faiz were reminiscing with Simani about past adventures with Dai. Scheduled to retire early next year, Dai had been a mentor – almost a father figure – to all the other Hunters at the South Ragah Division. Soon, they were joined by Ruban and Hema. An aura of quiet melancholy settled over the group as they spoke in muted tones of happier times.
Shwaan allowed himself to fade into the background. He had no right to participate in this conversation. And yet, if he fled, it would only exacerbate Simani's suspicions.
He sank to his knees and allowed Kitty to climb onto his lap. All afternoon, she'd been leaping and climbing to get her paws on his braid – a dangling treasure worth fighting for! Now, finally having it in her grasp, she wrapped her forelimbs around it and promptly fell asleep.
Shwaan sighed. If only humans were more like cats, life would be so much easier.
But humans, as he learned anew every day, were never so easily satisfied. He was yanked out of his pleasant reverie by Ruban tugging insistently on his collar.
"What?" he snapped.
Frowning, he looked up to see that the sun was almost on the verge of setting. The others had dispersed, with Ruban and Hema the only familiar faces still in his vicinity.
One of the downsides of immortality was that your grasp on the passage of time got rather tenuous, after a point.
Ruban raised an eyebrow. "You want to sleep in a crematorium tonight?"
Shwaan rose slowly to his feet, careful not to wake Kitty. Soon, with a bit of drowsy growling, she'd been transferred to the pet carrier in Hema's car.
As soon as the vehicle had left the venue, Ruban turned to Shwaan.
"What did she want?"
"Who? Kitty? My braid, mostly. And probably food, but I didn't have any."
Ruban snorted, turned away, and began walking. "No. Simani. She dragged you back here while I was speaking. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
"I don't much care that you did." Shwaan fell into step with him. "It was hardly an illicit rendezvous. Although I would keep an eye on her, if I were you. She's getting suspicious."
"Of what?"
"Of you. She asked me if you were consorting with Aeriels."
"And what did you tell her?"
"That you were just being your usual recalcitrant self. That she was overthinking things. Don't think she believed me, though."
"Well, she's not an idiot."
"I've noticed." Shwaan's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "All the more reason to be careful, isn't it?"
"And what if I didn't want to be? Careful, that is. What if I just want to tell her the truth? She's my partner. If anyone deserves to know, it's her."
"What she deserves has nothing to do with this. You know the risks involved as well as I do. If it comes down to a confrontation–"
"You'll kill her." Ruban rounded on him. "Is that it?"
Shwaan cocked his head to the side. "You're in a good mood today."
"One of my dearest colleagues – my oldest friends – is dead." Ruban took a step forward, glaring down at Shwaan. "Killed by an Aeriel that's still alive only because you allowed it to flee. Allowed it to escape with its life, after it'd killed four Hunters in front of you."
"Kaheen," Shwaan murmured. "Simani said she'd seen the Aeriel that killed Dai–"
"Of course she had," he snapped. "So tell me, Ashwin. How many of us need to die before you'll consider telling us the truth about Reivaa's daughter?"
Shwaan flinched. Ruban laughed, the sound devoid of any humor.
"So you knew, did you? You knew who she was, from the very beginning. And after everything that happened, after she killed four people, after I asked you about her time and again, you didn't feel the need to tell me… to let me in on the little secret."
"You don't understand." He shook his head. "There is no–"
"And yet, you expect me to keep your secret. To lie to my friends and betray my colleagues to do so. To risk their lives," he snarled. "For an Aeriel. An Aeriel who's been lying to me – making a fool out of me – all this while." He took another step forward, breathing quickly. "Tell me... Do you think Dai would still be alive today, if I hadn't trusted you so blindly?"
A few seconds passed in stifling silence.
"I don't care if you want to cast me as the villain of your personal tragedy, Ruban." Shwaan held out his hands. "If it helps you sleep better at night, be my guest. But the fact remains…" He turned away, moving towards the exit. "I'm not your enemy in this war. If anything, I'm the closest thing you have to an ally, outside of the Hunter Corps."
"So when will you start acting like it? Like a friend and not a spy?"
"Never. Because we're not friends. We can't be. I'd lived for more than eight centuries by the time you were born. And I'll probably live for eight more after you die, whether it's five days or five decades from now. This little drama," he flicked his fingers. "Is but the blink of an eye, in the grand scheme of things.
"I want to help you. But you're far from the only one who needs my help." He sighed, coming to a stop just outside the crematorium. "I'm on your side, Ruban. But you're not the only one whose side I'm on. And if you can't accept that, you're welcome to reveal my identity to whoever you want. After all, if there are consequences, I won't be the one to bear them."
***
Read Book 2 of The Aeriel Chronicles – A Call for Brighter Days on AMAZON: https://relinks.me/B0946ZDPRF