Unknotted

Embargo and a Terrorist

Rokan

The most powerful enchantress in Tredema swept into the room, with an entourage of enchanters in her wake. Caspella was tall and thin like a reed, her floor-length gown was something straight out of a fairy tale. Her neon blue eyes stood out bright against sclera as dark as midnight during a power outage on Tredema. Silver hair was bound into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. The thin tendrils curtaining her delicate features had no power to soften the hardness of her gaze. Only the thin lines at the corners of her mouth and a crease between her sharply arched brows spoke of her age.

I set my fork down, leaving only the offensive broccoli on my plate. I was careful not to meet her eyes, though my dominance vibrated at the restraint. Other than my ultras, there wasn’t anyone I wouldn’t make eye contact with. But I wouldn’t bet my pride against enchanter powers, especially against someone as strong as Caspella.

She entered the inner ring of the tables without so much as a hello in greeting. Trolls rolled a large SMARTboard into the center behind her, while her entourage passed out folders to each territory. One set a thick yellow folder before Tydeus.

The serving staff took up a position to the side near the kitchen door should anyone request a refill or whatnot. I quickly noted the troll with the bubblegum hair. Oddly, she was watching Caspella with quiet intensity.

“You have in your hands all the information collected on a hybrid terrorist. One who specifically targets Broshot facilities.” She glanced over her shoulder and aimed a remote at the screen. Two dozen pictures of dynamists, hybrids, and trolls popped up. The angle of each indicated the photos were snapped by security cameras positioned throughout dynamist cities and inside businesses or factories. Some of the people wore fancy attire like Caspella’s gown, others the rags of a street-corner bum, and everything in between. If there was a connection among them, I couldn’t spot it. Except how each stared directly into the camera and smiled. Something about the shape of those grins, the snarky tilt, was uncannily familiar.

“One of our kind?” Admon motioned to the screen. “Pretty sure some of those are your people.”

Caspella leveled a cool glare on Admon. “These photos are of the same person. The same hybrid.” Sharpness edged her voice. “Watch carefully when uncloaking technology is cast over these images.”

She clicked a button and the pictured changed so subtly it took Rokan a moment to figure out how. A whisper hissed through the room as others picked up on the difference. The eyes—they were the same bright, golden, topaz.

My gaze shifted to the troll with the bubblegum pink hair. I was surprised to see her meet my eyes. After a moment of study, willing any glamor she had cast over herself to vanish, her red eyes with yellow sclera shifted into what I had thought I had seen before.

Topaz eyes, exactly like the ones in every photo.

Her gaze narrowed, a challenge rising in them. A challenge that made the previous night come rushing back. It was her, the hybrid who shared my form.

The screen switching slides ripped my eyes from hers before my dominance could respond. Caspella gestured to the new picture, a factory on fire. “This was the criminal’s most recent target. A factory specialized in manufacturing military vehicles.”

Tydeus’s hands clenched. For good reason. He had put in an order through the Broshots for new vehicles months ago. We had been anxiously waiting for the delivery so we could push farther into Namen’s more rugged sub-territories.

“All of these have been hit in the last few months.” Caspella pushed the button again, and a new slide with another building on fire popped up. She continued to flick through picture after picture of dozens of factories in varying degrees of destruction. A chart tallying up damages and their resulting expenses followed.

As Caspella read through them, her voice dripping with irritation, my brows rose higher. My gaze shifted back to the troll, who was not a troll. A silent accusation passed from me to her. Topaz smirked and, with the slightest lift of her shoulders, shrugged.

My eyes narrowed. Before I thought through speaking, I asked Caspella, “Was anyone hurt in these attacks?”

Caspella’s haunting gaze drifted over me like a sheet of ice. “Hundreds of injuries. Dozens of deaths and numerous close calls. This hybrid is savage and must be dealt with.”

I dropped my eyes to the table, waited for Caspella to continue her presentation, before lifting them to Topaz. Another silent accusation passed between us.

Her response: an eye roll and a wink.

Rage boiled up in my chest, my dominance rattling. But, for some reason, I held it back and kept my mouth shut as Topaz slipped back into the kitchen.

“Hand over this hybrid or Cenzia will regret it.” Caspella’s shoulders drew back. “All ports from Tredema will be shut down. All exports halted.”

A hiss rippled through the room. Admon burst to his feet. “You can’t do that. We have contracts. I demand our supplies.”

Like Keadan, Namen must have been waiting on shipments from Tredema. That settled uneasily in my stomach. The dynamists had never chosen a side in the Expansion War, but I had never paused to consider what business they might be doing with the other territories. What advantages were they selling to our enemies?

“Demand all you like. If this hybrid isn’t stopped no one will be receiving anything else from Tredema, that I can assure you.” Caspella’s voice remained level, with an icy edge. “If that alone doesn’t entice you, perhaps this will.”

A pair of enchanters carried a box through the doors. Caspella’s long fingers tipped with manicured nails, filed to points, flicked the locks open. “This weapon has been in development for some time. While potions that dampen the ability to harness the tide’s magic have existed for many years…”

She lifted the lid. The cylindrical tube inside had a screen that flashed four red zeros. A glass tube filled with a yellow-green solution ran along the length below the zeros. My training kicked in and screamed, bomb! I straightened and leaned away from the table, holding the edge in a tight-knuckle grip.

Caspella continued. “This is the Tide Reverser. It’s capable of rendering a magic-silencing potion into an aerosol powerful enough to affect five hundred square miles. Imagine, invading enemy territory and them unable to assume their beasts forms or wield the ground beneath your feet.” She paused, ensuring she had everyone’s attention. Like me, the other hybrids had eased into defensive positions. Caspella’s grin sharpened. “None within the blast zone would have magic, not even an ultra.”

Admon snarled and jumped to his feet, dumping his mate onto the floor.

“You want this hybrid taken in alive?” Tydeus’s unemotional voice rose only above Admon’s growling. Though the folder in his hands was at risk of being shredded.

“Dead is fine with me,” Caspella said indifferently. “So long as you bring their body to us for positive identification.”

“How are we even supposed to find them,” Admon spat, “when we don’t even know what they look like? Tides, do we even know if this hybrid is a man or woman?”

“All of that is for you to figure out, Ultra Admon,” Caspella said, tired of his childishness, “if you wish to retain our business dealings and prevent your enemies from obtaining the Tide Reverser.”

“This hybrid…” Travers from Ruani sat forward in his seat. He spoke his words carefully. “How do you even know she or he is actually a hybrid and not one of these other races?”

“The eye color is proof enough.” Caspella flipped back to the first slide with the images revealing dozens of faces with topaz eyes. “The sclera lack the black or yellow of an enchanter or troll. And this honey, golden color is hardly found on a gremlin.”

“What about a gravita?” Stella asked, lazily dragging a fork piercing a piece of broccoli across her plate.”

Caspella clasped her hands in front of her gossamer gown. “The likelihood of that is slim, near extinct as gravitas are. But this terrorist lacks the sheen their eyes bear. These have the dull, flatness of one of your kind.” She zoomed in until that gaze filled the screen. “I want the hybrid with topaz eyes.”

Both Tydeus and Chet slipped me a glance, but my focus was fixed on the screen. I would hardly call those eyes flat. Light yellows contrasted with richer dark oranges and browns. The color was hardly common among hybrids. I had certainly never witnessed eyes with so much richness. Like polished, faceted stones.

“Topaz?” Chet breathed softly under his breath. “Sounds like Rokan’s new friend is naughtier than we thought.”

Stella’s fork clattered onto her plate the same moment Travers sucked in an audible breath.

“And we aren’t the only ones who know it,” Chet grumbled.

My knee started bouncing, my nostrils flaring to see if I could catch Topaz’s scent, but I only found the perfume her troll-self had been doused in.

Tydeus dropped the folder on the table. “Too many know something. Appears we must find your pragmora after all.”

“She’s not my pragmora.” But the magical cords slithering around me protested otherwise. Now that they had formed and had a taste of Topaz, they wouldn’t be satisfied until they had her knotted tight to me.

“Good,” Tydeus whispered under his breath. “We can’t afford for you to become attached. We need the Tide Reverser to end this war on at least one front. And she’s the price.”

My dominance reared, urging me to bite Tydeus. This sudden impulse to protect Topaz, a blasted terrorist, was entirely illogical. I should hate her for how she had hindered our war efforts, preventing us from expanding our territory and liberating hybrids oppressed in the north. Because of her, hybrids were dying.

Controlling my breathing, I fought my dominance back. Barely.

“Excuse me.” Ignoring all the stares, I slipped around the tables and shoved through the doors.