Trial by Flame

Chapter 28

"That high?"

Trelisti couldn't rub the stress out of his temples as Tellik nodded, holding the notes he'd taken last night with a grim expression.

"And more if they bring her within the month," Tellik murmured. His face was stained with exhaustion, more mental than physical. "I hate to say it, but it's not looking good for us. Especially considering how things went on your side."

"Don't remind me," Trelisti scorned. He felt her hostile stare the entire time he tried to sleep, well aware that she wouldn't tolerate seeing him again. "Did they say anything else? Anything that could help us find out how or when they'd attack?"

Tellik glanced back dubiously. "Do you go around telling people how you plan to traffic them?"

Trelisti responded with a flat glare. "Context clues."

"They know as much I heard," Tellik answered, rolling his eyes. He rubbed a splotch of ink off his nail. "Her real name is Avalon Mal-i'sunda, and she lives at a manor in the Pearl Sector. I did a little extra digging on my own this morning, but nothing stood out."

"Tell me whatever you know," Trelisti said, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Anything about her, her family, even that part of the Pearl Sector. If there's anything that has the slightest chance of being relevant, I want to know before they do."

"I can't tell if you're creepy or noble," Tellik said judgmentally. Trelisti felt his squint from the other side of the room. "But whatever you say."

There was a quick shift of pages, then Tellik started reading it off. "Daughter of Borda Mal-i'sunda, the inheritor to a small portion of the Jeme Mines and Az'syra Jewelers. Borda's of noble birth and grew up in the main palace, where most of the wealthier nobles choose to stay. He still could live there—he's actually quite influential—but instead lives in a more private part of the Pearl Sector with his daughter and hired staff. I couldn't find anything on the mother, but most noble marriages here are arranged, so it's probably just a lesser lady who nobody bothered recording. Happens a lot.

"As far as I could tell, her father's magic isn't particularly impressive. Just a lightweaver whose power has dwindled with the generations. His real sway is through money, but I doubt you care much about the politics, so let's see...back to Avalon. No siblings I could find, age also unknown. It seems like she just kind of appeared one day, honestly—you can find records of most noble children going to school in Castle Simuh, but she was pretty much unheard of until she started doing shows as a teenager. That's pretty much all I could get from our marketing logs and gossip."

"Marketing logs?" Trelisti asked. "Did you guys work with her?"

"Us?" Tellik almost laughed. "I wish. But no, those mostly just have research we've done on our competitors or potential markets. There's a whole few pages dedicated to the team behind Espire, but this is all I could find relating to Avalon herself. She's got a smaller role in her performances than you'd think."

"What about everything else?" Trelisti continued, steering the conversation away while he let what he'd learned settle. "You said there was a lot."

Tellik nodded vigorously. "Too much. There's no way we can do something about everything they mentioned."

"Hit me with what you've got and we'll see."

He was met with a dubious sigh, but Tellik continued anyway. He started by handing over a list.

"That's the rest of the nobles with bounties, as well as where they live. The only one that's suspicious to me is a few down, Am'ran Ise. Apart from being the only boy, they specified that they need him able to speak. Chances are he's got some sort of information they care about, but I couldn't find more on that."

Trelisti skimmed over the list, making mental notes of the names. All it should take for nobles was a tip—any word of a threat and they'd increase security tenfold. Regardless of his feelings about nobles, nothing validated preying on kids.

"We'll look more into him later," he decided. "But if you can make some sort of map showing where these are, I'll get the message out overnight."

"If you think you can, consider it done," Tellik answered, reaching for scrap paper almost instantly. "Should I continue?"

All it took was a nod.

"There's a factory off 118th street that's got some sort of evidence about the industry, which they're planning to burn. Don't know much else about that. The next major player is Ienitt—he's a noble openly working against the pulse industry, who set up a guard to investigate and shut them down. He's harboring an ex-member who's been feeding him information, but the industry has a mole in the guard, someone wearing a black ring with snake scales. They're trying to kill the ex-member before they can give out more information, and I'm guessing the mole's supposed to cover for them or do it himself."

"Do you have a location for that one?" Trelisti asked. It could be risky to involve himself too deep; though an interrogation would be useful, he'd rather keep his face and voice unknown. At the least, he'd consider a quick assassination on the mole, but he didn't want more contact with the guards than necessary.

"I'll mark their main post on your map," Tellik replied, starring a section far from the others. He started to scan over his list again when his gaze slowed, lips dropping into a grim line.

"What is it?" asked Trelisti, walking over to read. The notes weren't in Common, though, so he was just staring at a page he couldn't understand.

"We can't do anything about this one," he murmured dully. "Do you still want to hear it?"

Trelisti crossed his arms. "I haven't told you to stop."

Tellik sighed, muttering a quiet I warned you.

"They've got a quota they've got to meet for Sabja," he said, keeping his voice low and serious. "They're collecting them, like sheep. I'd rather not get into which targets are worth more."

Trelisti was silent, silent and still while the words floated in the air around him. Sabja, the dark elves from Te Fehr, which he and his family were born as. The people pushed from or enslaved in their home, having no choice but to flee or join the industry that exploited them. Some were so desperate they turned against their own people, and this...

This was not surprising. It just added to the embers burning inside of him.

"What else did they say?" Trelisti asked callously. Tellik returned an uneasy stare.

"Two more names to kill," he replied, eyes dropping to his closed fist. "A researcher and a rebel."

Trelisti nodded, waiting for Tellik to say more. But seconds passed and he didn't, not until Trelisti glanced over in confusion.

"You're frightening, you know?"

The words came out unexpectedly, escaping Tellik's lips while he turned back to Trelisti. His clasped hand went loose over the page.

"How so?" Trelisti asked. He didn't look angry, just...off, in a way.

"You never flinch, nor break face, when you're bothered. Sometimes, you react with a scoff or stare, fake smiles or words you don't mean. But when you're really, truly angry, it doesn't show. I can't even tell without looking in your eyes, but then, it's obvious. There's something inside of you, something burning and unhinged, waiting to go loose."

Trelisti shifted to the window, a bit of discomfort crawling up his back. He didn't like feeling others' gazes on him.

"Quinn said something similar, once," he said under his breath. "And Maenas too. What of it?"

"I worry what happens when the dam falls." Tellik's voice was lower than usual, possessed by the same exhaustion dimming his face. "Or a spark drifts into the coals. Whatever stir you cause will be world-changing, I'm sure. But don't let that be your end."

Trelisti had more than one quip back, but something told him they wouldn't be appreciated here. He shifted his arms into a stretch.

"Spare your concern," he told him, watching the sun creep into view. "This anger's saved for a reason. I don't care what happens to me after."