"There he is."
Fenris really made no effort to blend in, presumably as part of his strategy to lure out Danarius. It made him vulnerable, now I thought about it, but that was the game he insisted on playing.
"I don't suppose we could just hand him over for real," the fella sitting opposite me turned slightly to survey the crowd from underneath a broad brimmed hat. "It would save us an awful lot of trouble."
I rolled my eyes and smoothed down my moustache. It was attached to my upper lip like an overfed caterpillar with some gum Arabic and it itched. I thew some coins down on the table, and stood up.
"Let's go."
Fenris stepped through the crowd like it wasn't there and we fell into step behind him. For about three steps.
Without warning he accelerated like a startled fish, and if a blonde woman in a turquoise suit hadn't stepped out in front of him with a machine gun, he would have lost himself almost instantly in the crowd.
Anders and I flinched as the Tommy gun chattered, stitching a row of holes in the stone façade above shopfronts on the other side of the street, and sending stone chips flying. The crowd panicked, as we'd expected it would, and people started shouting for police and taking cover in nearby shops.
Given the sheer number of mobsters in Kirkwall, you'd think they'd be used to a bit of gunfire by now.
Fenris skidded to a halt and glanced around as the gun fell silent.
"Hands in the air, honey," the woman drawled. "This won't hurt a bit."
Fenris went for his gun instead. I reached him just as he drew it and ducked as he swung it at me. Anders had drawn his own weapon, on loan from Isabela, but was keeping a bit more of a distance. Which was smart of him, as Fenris wasn't pulling any punches as far as I could tell.
With Isabela, her Tommy gun, and her startlingly bold outfit on one side, and me, my bare hands and my new moustache on the other, it was an easy choice. Fenris' markings flared and I found myself thrown back against Anders, who managed, just, to keep his balance.
The street was almost clear as we enacted our drama. Traffic had either fled or stopped completely, and Fenris took advantage of it, pelting away between the cars. The trouble was, none of us were going to risk hitting and wounding, or possibly killing, him by actually aiming our guns.
There is a precipice that is always near me, never further away than the nearest stranger. I stepped off. I grabbed a handful of force, my right hand rippling with power, and punched the air.
Fenris hit the street with an audible thump. His hat fell off and rolled away in the dust. I kept my arm outstretched as he writhed and struggled beneath my magic. I could feel his lyrium burning through the force I was exerting as I gritted my teeth and pressed him down. He could struggle all he wanted; he'd lost his head start and his freedom.
Anders and Isabela were running towards him, Isabela with handcuffs and Anders with a stream of worried glances in my direction.
"'Urry up and get 'im!" I called in my worst and only Orlesian accent. "I can't 'ang around all day."
The crowd was silent. It wasn't Isabela's gun that cowed them now, but my mere existence among them. My lack of fear. There's a certain image that mages are stuck with. We are either terrified, scrappy apostates half-mad and on the verge of a breakdown, or sleek, perhaps slightly aloof circle mages in a gilded cage, as soft and harmless as an overfed lion at the zoo.
I was something else.
And I must admit it felt good. Despite my disguise, in a sense for the first time I was seen as I truly am. I could hear demons purring in my ears.
I released my grip on Fenris when the others reached him. Anders sat on him while Isabela wielded her handcuffs with expert efficiency, wrenching his arms behind his back and hauling him to his feet.
All my good humour drained out of me when I saw Fenris's face. One of his cheeks was covered in dirt and blood trickled from a cut on his forehead. His eyes were what bothered me most. They were shallow, almost blank, as if the person behind them had completely walled themselves off.
I'd never used magic on him before.
A car, stolen sometime earlier, skidded around the corner and Merrill, looking ambiguously fascinating in a fitted suit and smoked glasses, drove right up on the sidewalk to bring it to a halt near Fenris. I spared one last glance at the crowd and hurried over to it.
Isabela bundled Fenris into the boot and I grabbed Fenris's hat as we piled into the motor ahead of the sirens I could hear wailing in the distance.
We were silent as we drove away. We lost ourselves in traffic and stopped outside a diner so Isabela could dash in and make a phone call.
"I think that worked," Merrill said as we waited.
"You used magic," Anders said, shaking his head in wonderment, "on a main street. In the middle of the day. In Hightown. I don't know if you're incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. But you didn't kill anyone. No one got hurt. Meredith will try and argue otherwise, of course. But I'll write a pamphlet about it. 'Account of a Bystander', I'll call it."
"You weren't really a bystander though," Merrill pointed out.
"It's a literary device," Anders explained. "It makes the content more accessible to the everyday reader."
Anders probably would have gone on in a similar vein for a while, but I didn't really want to discuss his pamphlets.
"I used it on Fenris," I said. "I wish I hadn't had to." Even I could see I didn't have a lot of choice at the time.
"Oh, he'll get over it," Anders said. "I think he needed taking down a peg or two anyway. Good work, Trip."
I scowled, "I'll just be glad when all this is over."
Isabela returned with news. She'd already informed the Imperium that an attempt to capture Fenris would be made, and that they were to stand by with the cash. They were only waiting for confirmation.
"They've got a boat," she said. "They wanted us all to go on board, but I said we couldn't do that. No sense giving them the advantage. We argued about it for a bit, and they've agreed to meet us in Darktown tonight. We'll do the handover in a warehouse."
"Probably the same one they took Carver to," I suggested. "There's an open channel to the sea that goes right inside. Very discreet."
"If you know the building beforehand, that's even better," Isabela said. "We'll want to get there first anyway."
Darkness fell superfluously on Darktown, marked only by the further greying of the light that filtered down from the city above. A few wretches had take up residence in the warehouse, and we unceremoniously booted them out, although I did tell them they were welcome to come back in the morning, assuming the place was still standing. Everything else, right down to the smell, was exactly the same.
When we'd released Fenris from the boot he'd been pale and uncommunicative. I told him, as fervently and as often as I could that I was sorry I'd had to use my magic on him, and even sorrier if I'd hurt him.
Eventually some emotion returned to his eyes and I was greatly relieved, even if it was only irritation.
"Later, Trip," was all he said before lapsing back into silence.
As the appointed time approached, Merrill retreated to the upper area of the warehouse, to watch proceedings from an unseen vantage point. Fenris knelt on the floor in front of Anders' gun, and the rest of us just waited in a weird reversal of the last time we'd visited this warehouse.
The Imperium did not arrive by a rowboat this time. We heard the beat of an engine somewhere close, and the water running through the channel lapped more enthusiastically at the floor. A few minutes later, the boat itself edged in, one of the motorised rum runners, small and sleek and fast. They'd have the mother ship out beyond Kirkwall waters somewhere.
Alongside the driver stood a couple of sturdy fellas with machine guns, and a tall, dark woman with a fur cap that I'd since worked out meant 'Magister'. At the sight of her, Fenris tensed, and his upper lip curled in fury. I tried not to look at him.
Isabela strode forward, with a broad, gleeful smile.
"Welcome to Kirkwall," she said. "We've only been here a few days ourselves, but as you can see, we haven't been idle." She gestured towards Fenris, who hadn't taken his eyes off the Magister.
The boat was gently brought to a halt, although the engine was left idling as everyone except the driver disembarked.
"Well," the woman halted a few feet in front of Fenris, "this is definitely the elf we were looking for."
"His paintwork was hard to miss," Isabela said.
"And easy to fake," the Magister pointed out, "but no, he is the real thing; I'd recognise those beautiful eyes anywhere. And he remembers me; how gratifying."
"You can get acquainted later," I said harshly. I didn't like anyone talking about Fenris like that. "After we get our money."
"Of course." She snapped her fingers and one of her subordinates returned to the boat to collect two suitcases. He held them like they were quite heavy. He unlocked them both, one after the other, and opened them, showing us the gold that lay inside.
I'd never seen so much money in my entire life.
Isabela examined the currency a bit more closely, and then she straightened up and smiled, "Everything seems to be in order. Real gold for the real elf and no haggling. It's always a pleasure working with the Imperium."
"You've worked with us before?" the woman asked.
"Oh, here and there," Isabela said airily.
Anders hauled Fenris to his feet and gave him a shove in the direction of the boat. The Magister stepped aside.
"See that he's properly restrained, and take him back to Denarius," she said. "Don't wait for me, I have other business."
Fenris had been walking, head bowed and silent, but when she spoke his eyes lit up with fury.
"No!" he shouted. We all stared in horrified silence as his markings flared and he pulled his wrists apart. The handcuffs held for a moment and I held my breath, staring in amazement as the cold steel links bent and then buckled and then finally snapped, sending pieces of metal skidding across the floor; no match for Fenris's rage. He was unleashed.
This wasn't part of the plan. We'd given Fenris a key to the cuffs, and had a prearranged signal, but apparently neither of these things was needed.
"I will not let you escape, Hadriana," Fenris ground out.
Isabela flung her knives at the guards while Fenris hurled himself at Hadriana. He missed. She vanished and reappeared on the other side of the room, magic rising like a tide around her.
That was that. The battle was joined. Merrill's lightning sparked down from above, but it earthed itself harmlessly off Hadriana's shield. Anders was doing his best to protect us, as Fenris and I chased the Magister down. We split up; I went directly for her, while Fenris hared off to the side, anticipating another teleport.
She appeared behind Isabela and Isabela spun on her heel and punched her in an unladylike, but evidently effective fashion, for she teleported again.
I slammed my hands together using my own magic to try and crack her shield. Her magic was strong but felt unfocused. She took the easy way out, I could tell; she hadn't grown up having to hide and learning control. She bared her teeth and resisted me for a while, as I stalked towards her. But she wasn't game to let me get within arms reach, and she started backing away.
Right into Fenris's arms.
He grabbed her, pinning her arms, and head butted the back of her head hard enough that I heard the crack clearly above the noise of battle. She staggered, and went limp. He dropped her like a live spider and aimed a kick at her ribs. She took it, and curled up on the floor groaning.
"Enough!" I called, sensing the battle was over.
Even the driver of the boat was either dead or unconscious, although I wasn't sure who'd got him. He was slumped over the wheel, completely limp, while the boat still idled in the channel.
"Stop," Hadriana said feebly, "I surrender; don't kill me."
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't." Fenris loomed over her, and I could feel his lyrium as I approached, barely held in check.
"Let me live and I will tell you what I know," she said desperately. "I have information abou-"
"Fenris!"
There was nothing I could do. I was still feet away when Fenris knelt down in one swift motion and put his hand through her chest. He held her life his palm for a few moments. "I am through listening to you talk." He squeezed, and Hadriana's mouth dropped open, but she never said another word.
Fenris stood up, his back to us for a few moments.
"We're done here," he said flatly.
"Are you all right?" I asked him.
"Of course I'm not all right!" he snarled, turning on me. "I don't want to discuss it," he added stiffly.
"You killed her. She'd surrendered!"
"And what would you have me do?" he shouted back. "Just let her go? After all she's done to me, and after all they've done to me?"
"She said she had information-"
"About what? Danarius? She's like all the other mages; she'd say anything, or slaughter her own mother just to survive. There was no reason to believe she would tell the truth."
I decided to let the crack about mages slide. "You didn't think it was worth finding out?"
"No, I don't. The only thing that matters is that I finally got to crush this bitch's heart. May she rot, and all other mages with her."
"Well gee, thanks. Remember who you're talking to."
"I haven't forgotten."
"Then what was that supposed to mean? You know dammed well we're not all like your Magisters."
Merrill had descended from her vantage point, but everyone was silently keeping their distance while we had our row. I glanced over my shoulder at them. Anders just looked irritated, Merrill looked worried and I'm pretty sure Isabela was mouthing advice at me.
"And who should be our example?" Fenris was looking at them too. "Anders? Merrill? What does magic touch that it doesn't spoil?"
I like to think of myself as an easy-going fella, but you goad the kindest dog enough and it'll bite. "Well, safe to say it's spoiled you." I hurled the words at him, and they hit.
His eyes widened and he shook his head, "I- I need to go." He turned and practically fled.
"Fenris!" I made to follow him but Isabela called me back. She shook her head; now wasn't the time. Whatever potential our conversation may have started with, we'd blown it. I hoped he wouldn't just up and leave Kirkwall before he'd cooled down.