Chapter 176 – Revisit

Mirian didn’t like keeping to the shadows, but reminding herself of the strategic necessity helped her overcome her periodic urge to start flinging spells.

The next cycle, she left Selesia behind. She didn’t want the girl to get caught in the crossfire of whatever came next.

Prior to Kinsman’s speech, Mirian did what she’d done to find the spy’s headquarters in Torrviol so many cycles ago: she arrived near the building where the mind-cursed Baracueli patsy would be deployed and tracked where he came from.

Sure enough, he arrived in a spell carriage with three handlers. One of them was a very attractive woman with dark hair and quite a provocative dress. Gwenna, Mavwell said. The carriage took off, but not before Mirian telekinetically placed a tracking glyph inside it.

Mavwell, meanwhile, had already been in position for hours in the blacked-out apartment. Mirian took a position on one of the balconies near him. Right before the shot, she used magnetic shaping to subtly warp the barrel of the rifle so that the end was too small for the bullet to travel. There was the loud bang, but this time, Kinsman was left standing.

For a brief moment, he froze, mid-speech. His bodyguards looked around.

What the hells are they doing? They should be putting up layers of defensive spells!

There was another shot, startling Mirian, and Kinsman’s head exploded. Mirian turned towards the noise. There was another window, covered in curtains, but with detect life she could see the figure who had been there rushing about. A second gunman. Of course. They wouldn’t leave such an important event to chance.

Mirian followed the second assassin. She could always track down the spell carriage later.

***

By the next cycle, Mirian had followed the carriages moving agents both backwards and forwards in time. She’d uncovered several safe houses and learned the names of more agents. It was becoming clear that, like in Baracuel, this wasn’t some errant cell. The RID had deployed its agents in force.

What she really wanted to do was descend from the sky in front of Kinsman with a prismatic shield and then pull the assassins from their buildings with hold person and show everyone who the real culprits were. However, that would very clearly indicate both her presence and her objective to any other time travelers who were paying attention. She had grown powerful, but she couldn’t assume another traveler hadn’t surpassed her power. After all, Troytin had thought he was untouchable right up until it was too late. Jherica and Ibrahim were also proof that some of the loopers had started with an advantage in power.

Instead, she stayed cautious, continuing to track where the Republic Intelligence groups were coming from.

For her next attempt at stopping Kinsman’s death, she made a small spell engine that she buried in the park at night. It was designed to trigger when the wards above ground triggered, and would supplement Kinsman’s defenses with a strong magnetic shield.

When the 21st came again, Mirian sabotaged the wheels on Gwenna’s spell carriage four blocks out, which would prevent Theodoro from plausibly being blamed for the attack. Then, she quickly flew back and altered the barrels of the two guns she knew about, then moved to the front of the crowd where she could better monitor the situation with the bodyguards.

This time, three shots rang out, but the magnetic barrier stopped the one she hadn’t known about. As the panic set in, Kinsman’s bodyguards actually managed to start erecting shields.

That was when Mirian noticed a woman near the front of the crowd pull out a curse wand.

Mirian narrowed her eyes and used a blast of raw force to knock the wand out of her hand, then with lightning speed she snatched it out of the air and hid it in her coat before the fourth assassin could even react. She then tried to look like she was just another part of the panicking crowd while keeping an eye on the woman. How many damn assassins are ready to take a shot? Mirian wondered.

As the pandemonium continued, the woman looked around, clearly panicking herself. Then she started pushing through the crowd, moving north. Mirian followed. The woman used a glyphkey to enter one of the buildings bordering the park. With detect life, Mirian could see her talking to three other people.

Intuition told her what would happen next. Mirian manifested her mythril amulet beneath her shirt. Unless they had a particularly strong divination detector, a bit of distance and her spell resistance would keep them busy. Mirian mentally noted the location of the building. She could investigate it next cycle.

Kinsman was being evacuated to his spell carriage, surrounded by a half-dozen shields. She’d finally done it. With the assassination prevented and the scapegoat not present, perhaps the war—

There was an earthshaking explosion, and Mirian’s ears rang.

Kinsman’s spell carriage had been detonated.

Mirian felt a burning rage swelling in her. She suppressed it.

***

Two cycles later, Mirian abandoned the project. She could disarm the bomb, stop the riflemen, steal the curse-wand, and the conspirators would still kill Kinsman. The last cycle, it had been in the night with a heart-attack wand two days after the attempt in the park. The cycle before that, they’d managed to get a dazed Theodoro in position and sneak him into Kinsman’s room with a bloody knife after they’d stabbed him to death.

His security detail was clearly infiltrated, and too many people in the RID were against him. There was no way to stop it all and be subtle about it. Disguised as Specter, she’d talked to more RID agents, but they were all small players. It all came back to Old Kudzu—whoever the hells that was—and Westerun.

Mirian made her way down to Specter’s hideout on the night of the 1st of Solem. She made a new spell combining displace light, modify voice and major disguise that she called shadow form. It would wreath her in crawling darkness and prevent light from revealing her features. And, it would change her voice to be deeper. She hoped it would be sufficiently intimidating.

She used silent zone to suppress opening the hatch, then carefully removed the celestial focus around Specter’s ankle, as well as the pistol she kept beneath her pillow. The spy awoke with a start as she felt the gun being zipped away by telekinesis.

“Wha—who the fuck are you?” Specter said, seeing Mirian sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Nightfall, cerulean, masquerade,” Mirian said.

Specter reached under her pillow, and, finding nothing, her eyes darted towards her desk. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t take orders from you, you take orders from me,” Mirian snapped. “I’m here on behalf of Old Kudzu.”

Specter blinked, then swallowed. “I… was under the impression that Arturus and Matteus… had an agreement. Of course, you know my loyalties.” Matteus. Allen Matteus? The head of the Republic Intelligence Division? No wonder the entire thing is infested with assassins. The RID is even more compromised than the Deeps.

“We do, which is why you’re not dead already,” Mirian said, keeping her voice low. “Here’s a riddle for you: Where would Westerun run?”

“Westerun?”

“He thought he’d made a breakthrough in mind control and made an… inadvisable move. Allen’s had enough of his shit.” It seemed like a plausible lie to Mirian. After all, if they were all willing to murder their way into starting a war, what was stopping them from eliminating a few rivals?

“That can’t be right,” Specter said. “He’s committed. Like I… he’s committed. Are you sure your intelligence is right on this?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Absolutely. Where are his unofficial bolt-holes?”

Specter swallowed again. “I don’t know.”

“If you’re protecting him…”

“I’m not,” she snapped. “You know I’m not. You know I’m loyal.”

There was that word again. Loyal to what? Mirian wanted to shout. Specter had betrayed Baracuel, assassinated a Praetorian, and was willing to burn the country in the conflagration of war. Mirian stayed silent, eyes boring into Specter.

“Where did he leave from? He was in Vadriach, working with the University, right?”

Mirian suppressed a smile. “Of course,” she said. “Perhaps you can help with something else. Think of his colleagues at the University. Would any of them choose Silou over God and country?”

Specter’s eyes darted towards her desk again. “There’s too much blackmail on Tyrcast. He wouldn’t. Talk to Gottard. He’s the obsessed one.”

Mirian nodded, then sent a force blade through Specter’s neck.

She set fire to the rooms like normal, then levitated back up the ladder hidden in the closet, leaving behind the underground shelter. Once outside, she contemplated what to do next. She was still angry, she knew. If she went back to Akana Praediar now, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from doing something stupid. That, and I spent too much time in Mercanton. Falling into a routine was dangerous. She had to stay unpredictable.

Mirian headed back to the dorms.

The next morning, she said, “Hey Lily, want to go see Beatrice?”

***