Chapter VIII: Beware Of A Life That Passes By

Danica Horanská faked unconsciousness to avoid the pestering attention of the Spy Guild agents. Pain spread through her shoulder and ribs like a fresh inkblot, impairing her movements and confusing her thoughts. She closed her eyes and allowed one of Radmila's goons to drag her all the way to her apartment on the outskirts of the city, in Pertržalka. Ignorant of her father's shouts and Radmila's curses, Danica refused to answer their questions, resorting to incoherent slurs.

Radmila's goons treated her with casual indifference, dropping her body on an old couch in her father's room. Their lack of concern suited Danica fine. She had time to think and plan before Radmila showed up to interrogate her. Excessive diligence could not hurt if Danica wished to keep her head on her shoulders.

Banishing all artificial slumber from her face, she crawled to the keyhole. The lessons she had picked up from the Spy Guild could serve her, even if she used them against her teachers. As soon as she positioned herself well enough to observe the action, her brown eyes widened. "Why, in the Ancestors' name, is Sapieha here?" she whispered in shock.

Jan Sapieha was a blond man with golden moustache and shrewd dark-blue eyes. His expensive green suit and leather pouch that he held under his arm looked incongruous with the tiny apartment and its low ceilings and faded wallpapers. A confused fat man in old bathrobes and filthy slippers, Dalibor Horanský, could not find words to greet his distinguished visitor. While the sophisticated guest was making his way through the mess in Horanský's living room, Dalibor collected the old rags strewn on the floor.

Jan bowed slightly and smiled, feigning respect. The awe and admiration that shone in Dalibor's eyes mirrored Danica's own reaction: during her brief internship at the Sapieha Industries, she had witnessed the young CEO's engineering prowess firsthand. His keen intellect and regal poise alone were enough to woo Danica, whose usual company consisted of schoolmates and Spy Guild Agents, all of whom seemed drab and uninteresting. Sapieha, on the other hand, was flawless. Perfection was the only condition that allowed a matter-shifter to join the Setra. Jan had to live up to their high standards.

Dalibor rubbed his cleft chin, fidgeting nervously, while Jan remained perfectly composed, waiting for the host to address him. She wondered if Jan's superficial politeness was an inborn trait, or the result of his upbringing in the highest circles of the Offcast society, and his father's influence. The lessons of the late Councilor Marek Sapieha probably placed him in good standing. Born to money and power, he incited admiration with ease. Danica was nothing like him.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, pan Sapieha." Dalibor pointed at the only free chair in the room. "Please, take a seat."

Jan gave his host a gracious nod. "I appreciate your hospitality," he said. Sapieha tossed a brief glance at a half-dead plant in a clay pot. As a matter-shifter, he despised decaying life. His ability to manipulate lifeforce in non-sentient organisms was as essential to him as light was to Danica.

"I am sorry for the mess," Horanský apologized awkwardly, moving the plant-skeleton away from his small coffee table. Sapieha raised an elegant hand to stop him.

"No need for that, pan Horanský. I have accumulated enough life for today. I can share."

His palm flew over the pot, swift and light as a butterfly. When his supple fingers touched the dry leaves, they sprouted green. Clods of soil moved beneath the smooth growth, releasing three bell-like flowers – white as fresh linen. Danica gaped in awe, squinting to see the scene better. Her father shook his head as if refusing to believe his eyes.

"'Leaf-whisperers, they say! You and your matter-shifting kin never cease to astonish me!"

"The Setra believes we were all matter-shifters once," Sapieha said, scrutinizing his shabby surroundings. "There's power in life. Probably, the greatest of all." He paused. "We corrupt it by meddling with the enhancements given to us… The Byzantine Bloods are a testimony to this folly. A fruit of Aristides Laskaris' foolishness. I doubt they can join the Ancestors if they reject life as it is… Much like those time-masters who created them. Psychics are unnatural."

"It is just a legend of your organization, pan Sapieha." Dalibor frowned. Sapieha nodded.

"Of course it is. I do not take it at face value, pan Horanský. Given the circumstances, it is difficult to support the Setra's quest and bring all our separated brethren together. We cannot possibly win such a complicated game of artful dodging." He sighed, as if reconciling himself with the facts. "But allegiance is allegiance. I remain true to mine. We value prosperity in the Setra. It's business that interests us. Politics… not that much."

"Well, you have joined the Setra and mended your family's conflict with the Spy Guild. It's commendable." Dalibor beamed at him. Sapieha ignored his compliment and stared at the door. Through the keyhole, Danica saw his eyes - still and calm like water in a mountain lake. He sounded regal when he spoke.

"I have chosen the Setra and sworn my loyalty to Kira Rankova. She, in her turn, is faithful to the Council. As to our past incongruities, I can solve them. After all, I am now running my father's construction business."

Dalibor sighed and squeezed out a pretentious smile that Danica had grown to hate over the years. She gritted her teeth, sulking. "At least he's sober, I should be thankful for that." She strained to hear the rest of the dialogue.

"You are very successful, pan Sapieha. Much like everyone involved with the Setra and their businesses. Yet… I keep asking myself why you are working with the Spy Guild. I fail to grasp your reasons for that." Dalibor wasn't alone: Danica could not comprehend his motivations herself. Sapieha's answer surprised her.

"Pani Rankova and my colleagues from the Setra have heard troubling rumors about the smuggling of forbidden chemicals from Romania to Hungary. We cannot ignore the threat of the Psychics uniting against us, and creating a potentially destructive weapon. And neither can the Spy Guild. With the Dalmatian Serpent gone, there's nobody to counter this threat directly. I and my superior happen to share pani Chlápková's view: things should stay the way they are now. It's good for business."

"Why involve my daughter in it?" Dalibor cut him impatiently. "She is too young for that sort of thing! And she is very fond of you."

Her father could not keep his mouth shut. Danica bit her lip, suppressing a curse: "How sweet. When did he manage to get to know my tastes, I wonder? Probably in those two days when he did not lie wasted on the floor."

"I cannot deny her potential as a future engineer," Sapieha said. "Your daughter would make a fine addition to the Offcast elite." Hearing Sapieha's compliment, Danica felt blood rush to her face. All anger was suddenly gone – swept away by addictive praise. Wasn't it all she had ever wanted in life – to be a brilliant engineer, an important scientist, a part of the elite? Even her father's awkward remarks could not sour her mood.

"She's very capable. Danica is good and loyal to our kin, although she is… a bit confused," Dalibor said. Danica never thought she was either good, or loyal, but she would describe herself capable. Of that she had no doubt.

"Are you sure her assessments are not influenced by her friendship with the Lascari girl?" Sapieha allowed concern to taint his calm voice, and Danica heard it. He was not wrong.

"She is very young. But I am certain she'll be as loyal to the Spy Guild as her late mother was." Danica's nails pierced the gentle skin of her palm. Why did this drunkard have to mention her mother? Her eyelids brushed the keyhole, when she stared at a fleeing shadow that crossed Sapieha's beautiful face. Danica barely had time to bounce back to the couch, when she heard loud footsteps in the corridor. She scoffed to herself: "Pity that this time we won't be discussing my idea for a glider engine prototype. I'd love to hear Jan's opinion."

Radmila Chlápková blustered through the doors, leaving no room for Danica to retreat. Weary, she lifted her head from the cushion, pretending to struggle with her body's pitiful condition. Jan entered the room, following Chlápková and her father.

"Jan?" Danica feigned surprise, propping herself on an elbow. It hurt, but she could tolerate the pain. Along with Sapieha, a scent of freshness wafted softly into the room, strengthening Danica's determination.

Radmila shouted,"Both Byzantine Bloods and time-freaks are plotting behind our backs! Now they have an ally among us!" She cast a furious glance at Danica, ignoring both Sapieha and her father.

"Are these rumors of alleged plotting valid?" Jan asked, stepping forward. "Should I remind you we cannot risk war on the basis of half-proven allegations?"

"I am aware of that," Radmila hissed, annoyed by Jan's posturing. Then she pierced Danica with a wicked stare. "Ariadna Lascari killed two light-benders on the border this morning. I am here to talk about murder, not merely trespassing and espionage."

Danica's patience dwindled: some allegations simply could not be ignored. An idealist and a dreamer with little taste for reality, the frail painter was no murderer. Nothing could make Danica doubt Ariadna's innocence.

"Ariadna would never kill anybody. She can't. You don't know her, I do."

"No, you don't," Radmila snarled. "We found two bodies today in Šturovo. Both ended their lives on the rails. Both died from a powerful electric blast and severe wounds." She placed a glittering light projector on the table. "You can browse this information to see more."

Danica stared at the device in confusion, replaying all possible scenarios in her head. How could Ariadna harm anyone with her poor aim? The girl was far from what she'd call menacing.

"Those men were finished off with this." Radmila lay a glimmer-blade with an ornate silver hilt on the table. The handle was shaped as a two-headed eagle encrusted with purple gems. Jan Sapieha leaned over the weapon, scrutinizing the intricate details of craftsmanship: to Danica it looked like a pretty relic and nothing more – a finely carved piece of metal peppered with jewels.

"Not some simple kitchen knife," her father murmured, shaking his head.

"The Byzantine Imperial eagle with purple amethysts," Jan Sapieha uttered slowly. "I have seen it before. But never this close."

"Then you must know, pan Sapieha, that such a relic can belong only to a Byzantine Blood of a noble lineage. It is centuries old," Radmila said. Sapieha nodded.

"The Byzantine Bloods of the earlier days believed amethysts could ward off the harmful influences of the blood lilies. Of course, they did not. But the legend survives. There is nothing more truthful in this world than a legend."

"It is not Ariadna's!" Danica interfered. "And you can't prove it!" She traded hateful glances with Chlápková and stared at the glimmer-blade, thinking of why and how it came into Chlápková's possession. Radmila pointed at a small inscription on the blade.

"You do not read Greek, do you? Pan Sapieha? Pan Horanský?"

Both shook their heads.

"Well, then you would not know that this inscription says: "Emperors of Nicaea". And there is just one family living around that matches the description."

"And?!" Danica snapped. "You found a glimmer-blade in Šturovo! Doesn't it look absurd?"

Jan Sapieha lifted his hand, trying to calm her down.

"Danica might be right, pani Chlápková. This story does not make much sense. I believe the Alka Guard is already investigating the matter. It would be better if you did not rush to conclusions."

"The Alkari are not what they once were!" Radmila objected, then turned to Dalibor, whom she had been thoroughly ignoring since her dramatic entrance. "Could you ask your daughter where Ariadna Lascari found two bodyguards, whose skills are comparable to those of the Alkari? I see only one explanation here: she knew we'd come after her, and prepared everything in advance. Ariadna was the one hunting us."

Dalibor hesitated, his gaze wandering from Danica to Radmila.

"What 'bodyguards' is she talking about?" he asked.

Danica sighed, looking at Jan with faint hope in her eyes: her father was never the brightest man, but Jan had to know better. To her great disappointment, Jan's face remained stern and painfully attentive.

"Two people helped us escape," she said. "A strange Offcast in red and a woman with a silver cane – a repurposed deflector from the Ancestors, by the looks of it." She paused, then sighed with a wistful smile. "She sliced everyone in sight. But the man… he tried to help us for some reason. He put Ariadna on that train, reached out to me as well…" her voice trailed off, "but I did not make it. When I searched for the woman, she vanished."

"She maimed and killed half of our men, crashing my assistant's skull with that metal staff." Radmila's voice trembled with indignation. "The man just watched, bouncing like a grasshopper from side to side. The bastard escaped with the Lascari girl." She waved her hand at Danica, who once again turned to Jan, searching his composed face for clues.

"What you describe… I'd call it 'typical time-master tactics,'" Sapieha said cautiously. "But there may be a different explanation. Someone else wants the information about the Lascaris - the information that can easily be obtained from a frightened girl, who has never left home."

"Someone?" Radmila stared at him pursing her lips.

"Could be the knowledge-obsessed Fasma. Could be any of Adeona Lascari's enemies. Could be the Red Bond - the Alka Guard's intelligence. What if they have their own plans that don't align with yours?"

"They would not protect the Lascaris, one of whom is responsible for the Dalmatian Serpent's death! The Alkari are all gravity-switchers. They would not get cozy with the Psychics, even if they are sworn to protect all Offcasts," Radmila objected. Danica could not debunk her argument: an Alkar would not have willingly extended a helping hand to one of the Lascaris.

Her father's voice startled her. "Did your 'friend' know the man?"

"No." Danica hesitated. "She looked very confused and somewhat curious. He was… terrifying. More so than the woman. I can't explain it. I can only tell you I would not want to cross his path again. Maybe a time-master would understand this whole situation better." To Danica's surprise, Radmila only shrugged.

"Aladár Kolosy is a sensible man. A friend, I would say." A sly smile tugged at her lips. "If there's anything going on behind the curtains in Budapest, I would be the first to know. I have my ways."

Danica's jaw dropped, as she tried to untangle the implications of the spy's words. Was Chlápková courting Ariadna's father, while simultaneously trying to frame Ariadna? Her father and Sapieha exchanged careful glances. Radmila ignored them.

"Three Alkari are already at the crime scene." The Spy gritted her teeth, quickly changing the topic. "I do not like it when they interfere with our affairs."

"Maybe it is you, who interferes with theirs…" Sapieha's dark-blue eyes shifted to Danica. She took a deep breath and rose from the couch. It was her turn to talk.

"Ariadna is the most boring person I have ever met. She doesn't do anything but draw all day. And she has no idea why the Veil has dwindled. Her family consists of losers and misfits, who are guided by a crazy grandma who suffers from delusions of grandeur. All their 'secret plans,' in Ariadna's own words, are twisted fantasies of gathering an army of supporters. Does this truth disappoint you?" Danica crossed her arms on her chest, staring expectantly at Radmila.

"You are the one who looks shocked." She measured Danica from head to toe with her pale-colored eyes. "You should always know where your allegiances lie. But you don't."

"I know!" Danica snapped. She wished she did, but lies came easy to her. "Unlike you, I am not blinded by senseless hatred. What kind of a deranged person would kill two random agents of the Spy Guild?"

"A person with a clear set of goals," Sapieha said, then stepped forward, occupying a place between the two women.

"I can offer a resolution, my ladies," he uttered slowly. "Ariadna Lascari will suffer the consequences if found guilty by the Council. There will be no pursuit. Only an official investigation." He gave Danica a heavy look. "An unauthorized hunt will spoil the already strained relations between the Spy Guild and Ariadna Lascari's time-mastering relatives. And mutual understanding is very important to the Council and to my patron, Lady Rankova. Councilor Varga is her greatest ally, and he will not want to execute a sixteen-year-old Psychic, daughter of a dear friend. Not without a very, very convincing reason."

"Two dead Offcasts don't count, do they?" Radmila spat angrily.

Jan shrugged. "The Setra wants prosperity. Not revenge. Let the investigation prove your point."

"Oh, it will. They will discover the truth for themselves."

She sighed and turned away, preparing to leave. "You still need to catch your train to Krakow, Sapieha. The Council hasn't issued a glider for you, has it?"

He gave her a polite smile.

"Give me only one second, pani Chlápková."

"I will be expecting you downstairs in five minutes."

Danica waited until the door closed behind Radmila, and Dalibor disappeared in the kitchen. Silently, she stared at Jan's tie, her brown eyes focusing on a small pin – a white Setra leaf of sterling silver. She smiled wryly.

"Thank you for supporting me. I did not expect much from a Setra person." She shook her head when Jan lifted his eyebrows in amusement. "You look exactly like those stereotypical Setra-entrepreneurs: pretty, lean, well-dressed and well-spoken."

"Is it that bad?"

"You used to call them a bunch of smug scoundrels. I thought you hated them just like your father did."

"We need to adapt, Danka. The Setra is not as bad as my father considered it to be. I prefer to make influential friends, not influential enemies."

"It shows," she scoffed. "Do you think it makes sense to join the people who have almost killed my friend, and burnt my shoulder and stomach?"

"Your shoulder will heal. Your reputation, on the other hand, is far more fragile than your body. The Spy Guild follows the Council. They are powerful. Learn from that power. It can protect you the way your father and your friend cannot."

"Isn't protection the task of the Alka Guard?"

"They are soldiers, and soldiers follow orders. The Serpent was the only Alkar with impressive political acumen. But the Serpent is no more. His family remains in Croatia, though. And they are dangerous."

Danica stepped aside, shaking her head.

"You have changed, Jan," she said. An invisible hand strummed the taut chords holding her body together, then dropped them. She landed on the couch in a heap of pain. "I am locked here under surveillance, am I not?" she asked wearily.

"Consider it a test, Danka. Prove to them that you are trustworthy, and they will let you go out. If you attempt anything stupid, I will not be able to help you."

Danica seized his hand.

"Tell me one thing, one thing only!" She stared into his eyes with despair. "Do you believe me?"

He hesitated for a long moment.

"I believe that you are sincere. And therein lies the problem."