RAVAGED HEARTS | CHAPTER TEN
"I KNOW NOTHING about this," Nooria Minhas insisted adamantly. "I lost contact with all of them a year ago. None of them have ever contacted me since."
Once, Nooria had been an unwitting ally to Anthony Contreras' top spies. She'd unknowingly supplied them information for months, not stopping out of fear even when she realised what precisely her intel was going to. It was in the final months of their takedown of Melique's intelligence network Nooria had stepped up and offered to give them information in exchange for protection and amnesty. Sai had accepted.
After the war ended, the woman chose to live in Vayante rather than her native Dumah. Io's assumption had been that the reason Nooria had moved to Melique back then in the first place was to escape. Most probably she was a fugitive of the desert kingdom. What crime she'd committed, Io had never bothered looking into.
With utmost politeness, Io said, "You're lying."
Nooria shook her head. "No. No I'm not... I'm not. I haven't contacted them since... haven't heard from them..." She sat down in frustration, rubbing her forehead. "I'm not an idiot. It was difficult enough escaping from their gauntlet. What makes you think I'll go right back?"
"Fear."
Nooria winced. "They don't have anything to threaten me with anymore. I've already lost everything."
"Everyone has something to lose."
Nooria looked up and eyed her. "But I'm telling the truth. I don't know who took them. Or why they took them—well, actually, everyone knows that. Or where they are. I'm nowhere as useful as I was before, I can assure you of this."
"You of all people should know that it's not as easy as that, getting out of this." Io shrugged, leaning against the wall. "You've offered us valuable information before, so we're going to ask you for more even if we know you probably don't know anything."
"Is that why you're here?"
Io smiled. "No. I'm here because I think you do know something. You're just too scared to tell me. Why?"
"I know nothing."
This time, there was enough conviction in her voice, enough certainty that Io was fully convinced. She sighed. "Fine. I was testing you. If you don't know anything... any ideas? Assumptions?"
Slowly, Nooria murmured, "You didn't get... all of them. Some of them are still out there. And they want revenge. It's why I asked for protection in the first place." Someone like her, a presumed traitor, would be first on their hit list. That, or apparently the children of a rising politician.
"I know that."
"And the people left out there. They're dangerous. The most dangerous, I dare say."
"You know who's out there."
"I've made my own guesses and calculations. It's the monsters who are still out there."
"The monsters who pulled at the strings or just the ones who carried out the orders?" They were talking in riddles, but Io had a feeling Nooria would reveal nothing straightforwardly.
"The claws and the teeth."
Now, Io moved towards the armchair at the end of the table perpendicular to Nooria's couch, sitting on the armrest. "The Falcons and the Cuckoos."
"No one except maybe Contreras knows just how many there are out there."
"Operations have been going on since before the war ended to locate them all."
"Some of them have slipped back into normal life," Nooria shrugged, "vanished into the populace happily. Restarted their lives. Others want revenge." She lightly tapped her finger on the cushioned sofa. "Efforts to find them have been slowed in the past two months, did you know that?"
"Why yes I do." The operations hadn't been bearing much fruit, so less people and energy had been put onto it. Most of the most well-known Falcons and Cuckoos had already been dealt with or defected anyways.
"It's the perfect chance to strike." When Io looked like she was about to continue asking, which she was, Nooria held up one finger. "No. I don't know who they are. I don't know where they are. This is all I can help you with. Even back then, they only trusted me so much. Now, not at all. I am an enemy, Mi. You don't tell an enemy your plans."
"You are if you're desperate enough."
"They are the one with the two Bailen children. They have the upper hand right now. You don't even have a clue who they are."
"I will soon."
Nooria laughed and shook her head, glancing out at the window, at the sunlight streaming in and landing on their faces, casting strange shadows. "Always so arrogant, Mi."
Io flashed a toothy smile. "Part of my charm, Minhas." She stood up. "If you have nothing else to tell me, I'll take my leave."
The woman looked quite split at the announcement. Part of her, Io decided, wanted company, but the other part hated the interrogation that came with every one of their meetings. But no one could have the best of both worlds, and Io had no time to spare here. She had other people to go to. The next of whom was all the way across the bloody city. That would be a painful carriage ride.
She should have brought a book with her, honestly. But she hadn't, so she'd just have to deal with interminable boredom.
She rolled her eyes at the thought as she made her way down the street, leaving Nooria's little townhouse behind. She was still acutely aware of the woman's face against the window, watching her vanish, but she didn't turn back to wave. Didn't bother. She didn't need to make any more connections.
Just more ways to be broken. She already had enough ties and knots all over the world. Didn't need to make one more, especially one she wasn't even sure she could trust. Nooria was still, at the end of the day, unreliable. She had turned against Melique during the revolution, yes, but only when it was clear Melique was starting on a downwards trajectory. She was an opportunist, a survivor, someone selfish enough to always put themselves first. It was how she was still standing now, but it also made her dangerous.
You never knew when she could turn on you. Part of Io admired that, of course, but it also meant there was no way she was contacting Nooria for anything more than business. It all boiled down to self-preservation in the end, which was probably the cause of most crimes in the history of mankind as a whole. Fear, Io had been taught, was the root of most issues.
So Io started on her journey. An hour and a half later—it was a relatively small city for a capital–she stepped off her carriage, raising her head as if she fit into the neighbourhood. This one, this source had chosen to blend into the feeble aristocracy of Vayante. Not that there was one left. Why Fiora Chevalier chose to escape from one ailing class to join another, Io had no idea.
Fiora had been a bit of a hard nut to crack. She had been a Falcon, one of those wiccai the Melique found and took in, often through murdering their families and caretakers. More often than not, they were kidnapped. When they found her, it had taken weeks to convince her to act as a source for them. It had been immediately after the war, and Chevalier hadn't been able to accept that the country she'd spilt so much blood for—both her own and others'—had fallen so simply.
(She didn't know loss. Most people didn't until it was too late.)
One knock on the well-kept door, and the door swung open. Fiora's light blue eyes met hers, filled with contempt and annoyance.
To this, Io smiled pleasantly. "Chevalier. You were watching me."
"I keep an eye on people who enter and leave the neighbourhood," Fiora's voice was calm but firm. The hidden message was clear. Leave. But Io had no plan of doing so.
"I'm here for information." She didn't want to be allowed in, simply stepping in the door. Chevalier took a step back, arms crossed.
"Get out."
"No."
Because this wasn't the first time they'd play this game—Io had been one of the agents who apprehended her in the first place—the fair-headed woman relented and started making her way to the parlour. A maid popped her head out, and Chevalier dismissed her with a wave of her hand. Io made sure her face was relatively hidden, just in case. People could be keeping an eye for Chevalier, who hadn't vanished into the populace nearly as well as she may have thought she had. She was a fighter, not a spy.
"What are you here for?"
"Bailen's children were kidnapped a few weeks ago, I'm sure you've heard?"
"I have. Don't see how I can help you with that."
"Have you heard anything from your old comrades? Some people seem to think it might have been Falcons."
Fiora let out a snort, dropping herself onto her couch and crossing her arms. "Us Falcons have all been scattered to the winds, Swan. No thanks to you." She lowered her head. "I wish I heard something from them. But rather unfortunately, most of them had chosen the cowardly way out like me. They would not be going around kidnapping the children of Vayantean politicians. Trust me on this one. The people you've been talking to are delusional and wrong."
"Who do you think it is, then?"
Fiora raised her hands in a shrug. "How am I to know? You broke us, Swan, broke us. I haven't seen any of them for so many months. I haven't—actually, I've heard that even you haven't been seen for... what was it? Six months?"
"Nine."
"Oh?" Fiora asked, eyebrow arching. "Where did you go, Saian Swan?"
"Vacationing," she replied smoothly, brushing her gown. "Realised I needed one."
"Ah, of course you did. How nice." Chevalier all but rolled her eyes. Io just smiled in return. It was usually the best way to deal with this girl of steel and stone. Slowly dismantle her defences without her noticing, rinse and repeat every time she erected the walls around herself once more. They'd only interacted a few times, but Io had met many people just like her. She was not disheartened or irritated. Would not allow herself to be.
"So. Information."
Fiora's eyes flickered back to her figure standing under the doorway. "I don't know shit. Go to someone else."
"I'll wait until I'm sure you know nothing first." Io walked forward, keeping her steps slow and steady. "I'll take anything. Even the slightest bit of wind or whisper or your dumbest assumption."
"I don't know who it is," Fiora insisted. "I haven't been keeping up with anything for a long time."
"That's a lie," Io shrugged. "Saw a newspaper on your drawer. Sloppy, Chevalier."
"Shows just how retired from the mindset of an operative I am, doesn't it?" she asked, leaning backwards and tilting her head. "I'm done with wars and operations and all that crap. Go and don't come back."
"As if it would be that easy."
"I fucking wish it was."
"Careful," Io said, raising her chin, the slightest of smiles marring her face. "Wouldn't want your language destroying your newfound image as the sole face of a waning dynasty."
"Waning dynasty my ass."
"What you have here can be so easily destroyed. It's a fragile facade."
Fiora's nose flared. "Are you threatening me, Swan?"
"Am I? You decide for yourself, Chevalier. I can't make up your mind for you." Threats were only threats when you decided they were. It was an easy way to see what people considered important in your life. An important way to see where to start off when needing to manipulate and control someone.
"I don't know anything."
Io decided that silence was the best response. After a long moment, Fiora tore her gaze away. "I've heard nothing."
Still, Io did not respond. Now Fiora was starting to get a bit irritated, though years of training still allowed her to clamp it down fairly well. If it was someone without Io's amount of experience, she might have been fooled.
"They haven't contacted me since... since we lost the war." Now, Fiora's eyes took on a faraway look again. "Fucking hell. You don't believe me."
"You're Falcon."
"I betrayed them."
"Technically speaking, you only surrendered. And even that you could say was because we imprisoned you for a few weeks."
"I betrayed them, Swan." There was anger in her eyes. "I betrayed them. What don't you understand about that? They don't want to talk to me anymore, they don't talk to me anymore, and they most definitely are not going to come to me to ask me to help them because I have betrayed them before, Mi!"
"They're desperate."
"Not desperate enough, I assure you. Us Meliquean agents are crafty creatures. We're used to having the odds stacked against us."
"So you think it's a Meliquean agent."
Fiora let out a bitter laugh. "Unless it's Bailen's political rivals, yes, it's a bloody Meliquean agent, Swan."
"Interesting. Carry on."
"Don't know anything else." She shrugged, slumping into the couch. "Just go. You're just wasting both of our time here."
"I'm wasting time if I think I'm wasting time," Io replied, "I don't think I am wasting my time." There was no way Fiora Chevalier knew nothing, even if she wasn't directly involved with this plot. Once upon a time this woman had been in the centre of this den of snakes. If even she didn't know...
Then she highly doubt any of the sources they were going after knew either. Didn't seem very likely. The Saians probably had a better foundation and network here than the Vayanteans, so she truly wasn't expecting much from the Enrique Zevallos twins' endeavours. The next step in this mission depended on Io and the names on her list. And Fiora had to know at least something.
"You're not getting anything from me."
"Because you actually don't know anything? Or because you're lying to me? You know they don't stand a chance, right? Even if Bailen does step down, there are hundreds of people clamouring to take his place. It won't make any long-term effect. Won't set what the Vayanteans have achieved far back. Especially not with all their allies."
Chevalier didn't seem persuaded. "I know nothing."
She tilted her head. "You sure?"
"I haven't heard even the slightest whiff about this. Or seen a single old face for a long time. And they're not going to come to me with anything either, I hope you realise this. Because every time you or your other Saian agents come is a risk."
"What you have here is fragile."
"You think I don't realise this?" Chevalier stood. "I used to live like a god, Swan. You've seen where we used to live. Our headquarters. The decorations, the rooms, the splendour. You took that away from me."
"Melique wouldn't have lasted with or without my feeble aid."
"Oh, but you're the face of Sai's intelligence, aren't you? Might even give the duke and his little girl a run for their money." Hatred overtook Chevalier's eyes again. She was a torn woman, split between her wants and her needs, her loyalty to the old Caba regime and her desire for survival.
"So?" Io asked casually. "Right now, I'm just an agent asking you if you know anything. An agent, I might add, representing the country who is allowing this fragile peaceful existence you're living right now."
"You're threatening me. I wouldn't suggest that."
"I've spent my entire life fighting wiccai, Chevalier. I've beat Falcons. Some of your allies have fallen before me. And the only time I didn't..." Io took another step forward, tilting her head, her smile spreading. "Well, they didn't finish the job properly, did they?"
"Bitch." All the courage had left Chevalier's body. She collapsed back on the couch, pushing her hair back with her hand. "I know nothing. Leave."
Io sighed. "I'll be back in a few days."
"Don't be."
"Maybe you'll know a thing or two by then. I'll take my leave now, Mademoiselle Chevalier."
"Do not call me that—"
"If you didn't want to recognise your heritage, maybe you shouldn't have gone by the name you were born with in the first place."
"Rich coming from you, Mi."
"Ah, but Mi is still a Saian surname, isn't it? Your arguments are weak. I'll see you when I return."
She left the steps of Chevalier's house with the woman inside still seething. As she left, a girl, quite young and quite plain had just stepped through the gates. At the sight of Io, her spine instantly straightened.
Io lowered her head. "And who might you be?"
The girl looked extremely unsettled, sweeping into a little bow. A Meliquean bow, Io realised with a start. "I'm Lilia, miss."
Io repressed her suspicion, asking, "And why are you here, Lilia?"
"Just delivering a message, miss."
"You can give it to me, I'm a friend to the mistress of the house."
"I'm afraid not, ma'am," she replied shyly, "I was told to deliver this to Miss Chevalier and her only."
"What kind of important message is this?" Io asked, laughing slightly. "It should be alright. I'll hand this to her. Do you need to be paid?"
But the girl didn't bulge, which further set off alarm bells in Io's head. If she was any ordinary messenger, she'd have accepted the coins and left. This was something who'd been trained to deliver messages like this. But she wasn't dressed like a servant.
"Well?"
The girl hesitated. She glanced up reluctantly, meeting Io's eyes, and that was when recognition struck.
Io's grin widened. "I know you, don't I?"
The girl didn't need even a second to think. Within the blink of an eye, she'd turned and started to run. Wiccai ran faster than ordinary humans, but Io had been trained to push herself to her limit, to outrun and beat wiccai since she was young. And Lilia—though that was not the name Io knew her as—was not a very trained Falcon. Not someone they necessarily kept tabs on. The way they'd crossed paths had been a complete accident.
She couldn't be older than sixteen, actually. And from the way her instinctive reaction was to flee and not flight, she'd brought no allies with her and was not confident with her abilities. Most wiccai would at least try to engage her in combat before turning to run. Some kind of ridiculous wiccai pride. This girl had no reservations about directly making a run for it. It spoke of ridiculously low self-esteem.
Something Io could oddly relate to. But Lilia was still a Falcon, and the fact that she was at Chevalier's house to deliver a message...
(Uninvolved my ass, Io thought. Chevalier was clearly in communication with most of them. There was no other reason for a former Falcon, trainee or not, to be sneaking around with a message here.)
To think Io almost fell for Chevalier's honestly subpar lying skills. The only thing the woman had was raw determination.
Io was out in a flash. A second later, Lilia was tackled to the ground. Io murmured, "The White Lily. Pleasure to properly meet you."
The girl said nothing, just struggled under Io's hold. She was slippery, but Io was far more experienced. She stayed exactly where she was.
Finally, she whimpered, "Let me go."
Io did not relent. "Afraid I can't do that. You know too much, you see, and you're a person of extreme interest. Former Falcon and all. If you're even a former one in the first place, that is. Seems like you're still fairly active in all this."
"Let me—"
Io allowed all the mass of her body to weigh the small girl. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to cooperate, because you know who I am. And you know you can't get out of my little snare. Your best bet out of this unharmed and alive is to listen to what I say and follow my orders. Do you understand?" When all else failed, Io liked to rely on her reputation. The Swan, the face of Sain intelligence, the one who terrorised her enemy's minds in the dark of the night, the one who snuck in and out without anyone even noticing. That was Iolanthe Mi to the rest of the world.
In times like this, it was necessary to push away Io and let the Swan take over.
Between gritted teeth, the girl managed to give a short nod of her head. Io's head swivelled towards the house behind them. There was no way she could carry the girl all the way back to the headquarters. That meant she had to get Chevalier's help.
With a silent sigh and pushing the girl in front of her, they staggered back to Chevalier's porch, where Io nodded and dreaded what was to come.