Engin

  “GET AWAY FROM THAT DOOR, BOY!”

  Burn had come hobbling into the foyer with his runeblade drawn. The slim mahogany steel glimmered at his side as he shoved Engin behind him. He’d taken off the vest of his suit, donning only an undershirt now that was tucked under a pair of suspenders and into his pants.

  “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT!” demanded Burn, shouting through the door.

  There was a brief silence from the other side. And then the voice came again.

  “You must be the humble caretaker.”

  “Aye,” grunted Burn, staring through the peephole. “I am. May I ask why there is a trooper on my doorstep at the height of the fog?”

  “An unfortunate situation, really. I am merely on some urgent business on behalf of the Ministry.”

  “Well, you can come back tomorrow then!” muttered Burn. “We don’t open our doors during the fog. Not even for a trooper.”

  “How about for a man looking for a missing girl then?”

  Burn pulled away from the peephole, a red grimace occupying his face.

  Madame Deitrich and Mr. Dooley had also poured into the foyer by this point in their nightwear, Mr. Dooley holding a black mace in his hands, and wearing a circular pair of eyeglasses that was falling low on his nose.

  “Who is it, Mr. Piggot?” asked Madame Deitrich, panicked.

  “A trooper. Says he’s looking for a missing girl.”

  “A trooper...” Mr. Dooley’s ears perked up. “What if he knows something about that boy?”

  Madame Deitrich nodded her head aggressively. “Oh, yes, yes! Ask him about the boy, Mr. Piggot!”

  Engin met Krip’s gaze, who was sharing the same nervous angst as he was from across the foyer.

  “He can come back in the morning,” said Burn. “When the fog has passed us.”

  “But if he knows something about the boy, we shouldn’t wait till the morning,” stressed Madame Deitrich, grabbing Mr. Piggot’s arm. “Perhaps he can take the boy off our hands. Return him to his home, safely.”

  She looked to Mr. Dooley for support, who gave her a few nods of approval. “It certainly won’t hurt to ask, Mr. Piggot.”

  Burn did not seem like he was a fan of the idea but stuck his forehead above the peephole anyways. He drew in a breath and then asked, “Are you sure it is a girl that you are looking for there, trooper?”

  The trooper’s words came a lot more muffled this time for Engin. He tried to move closer to the door to hear, but Madame Deitrich stopped him.

  She shook her head at him sternly and pulled him back.

  After a long silence, Burn grumbled something under his breath to the door and then surprisingly moved to slide the lock open. His grip on his blade seemed a lot tighter as he rounded the tiny opening he’d created in the doorway.

  “Perhaps we can have this discussion inside.” The trooper requested, his voice coming through much clearer now. “You see, I’ve already spent a lot more time in this fog than I intended to tonight. It would be nice to put it behind me. Even if it is just for a brief little chat.”

  There was a certain brevity to the trooper’s cadence, not authoritative like Burn, but more so; condescending. As if he was entirely content. Comfortable, with how things were going, despite being in what most would consider to be an odd circumstance.

  Burn was hesitant at first to do so, but he did eventually let the trooper through the door.

  He was much taller than the peephole had made him seem. About Burn’s height, but more defined at the neck and shoulders. At his waist was his own runeblade scabbard, and an aya-lock pistol in its holster.

  “Trooper Amadeus Tennoleq Quro. Pleased to make acquaintance with you all.” The trooper announced, looking about the room at all the many faces staring back at him. “Apologies again if I gave you all a fright. Circumstances have made for quite a night.”

  Burn sheathed his runeblade at his hip and crossed his forearms at the trooper. “What’s this about a missing girl, then?”

  The trooper smiled, amused. “Ahh... yes, the girl. Been missing for years now, the poor lass. She’s got a birthmark on her neck, about wee small. Should be about your age by now.” He pointed to Krip, whose eyes bulged at the attention. “How old are you son?”

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  “Fourteen years,” said Krip.

  “Yes,” The trooper nodded to himself. “Bout that age for sure. Maybe older.”

  “A girl gone missing for that long.” Mr. Dooley stepped forward, adjusting his eyeglasses. “I’m terribly sorry to hear it, trooper, but what’s that got to do with us?”

  The trooper cocked his head at the mace in Mr. Dooley’s hands. “And you are?”

  “Oh.” Mr. Dooley lowered his weapon. “Apologies, Trooper. The fog tends to keep us on our toes around here. Freidrich Dooley. Head Chef of the manor.”

  “How delicious...”

  Mr. Dooley shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

  “Well, you see, Mr. Dooley, it just so happens to be… that this evening, I received a report from one of my officers that this very same missing girl was seen being harbored on your estate. Now you folks wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Burn’s eyes had narrowed onto the trooper, studying the man like he would the orphans when he’d caught them in a lie.

  “What about you, young one?” The trooper turned to Engin, his scar curling upwards into a smile. “Seen a girl like that ‘round here?”

  “No, sir.” Engin spoke confidently. “No one like that.”

  “There’s no missing girl here, trooper,” said Burn. “And you can set aside your assumptions of foul play on our behalf. We work directly with the church in our adoptive practices, and the Lady Elenora is close with the Archbishop Meida himself. We invited you in here not because we know where your missing girl is, but rather in regards to another child. A backwards boy who happened to come onto our doorstep this evening, battered and wounded. We took him in and tended to his wounds, but have not the slightest idea who he is, or how he ended up here under such circumstances.”

  The trooper squinted his eyes, mulling over the information. “And here I was under the impression that you folks didn’t open your doors during the fog.”

  “The boy was very hurt,” explained Madame Deitrich. “I was the first to see him. It was horrible, the state of him. Let him in myself, without giving it much thought-”

  “And a very honorable act it was!” The trooper raised his voice, cutting Madame Deitrich off. “Perhaps I should meet this boy, see him for myself.”

  “Of course.” Madame Deitrich nodded. “We were hoping you would take him back with you tonight. Get him home safely to his family.”

  “And I would love to do that for you.” The trooper turned his attention back to Mr. Dooley. “But first, I will need to speak with the Lady of the house, of course.”

  “You can speak with me.” Said Burn, raising a finger.

  “Are you the lady of the house, my friend?”

  Burn gritted through his teeth. “No.”

  “Oh. Then I shall like to speak with the Lady herself, please. No one else.”

  Burn uncrossed his arms. “That will not be possible. The Lady is busy with her work, and she has entrusted me with overseeing all the responsibilities of this estate. I am Burn Majesterie Piggot, treasurer of Elenora Estate.”

  Trooper Amadeus merely rolled his eyes. “How unfortunate.”

  “Excuse me?”

  A column of flame erupted close to Engin and Perry, seething their skin through the fabric of their clothes.

  Everyone in the room backed away to safety, Engin pulling Perry along with him.

  “AAAAgh!” Someone shrieked.

  Madame Deitrich was suddenly lifted into the air, her feet dangling and her body convulsing within a rapidly rotating vortex of fire. She screamed out bloody murder, but it came forth muted, in odd, estranged bursts of sound.

  “Don’t move a muscle, boy,” uttered a voice, very close to Engin’s ear.

  A blade wrapped around his neck, held secure in the tatted hands of Trooper Amadeus himself.

  “ENGIN!” Perry yelled.

  Engin looked down at the dagger threatening his life. The blade shimmered like obsidian stone, a bright green engram rune embedded into its hilt.

  “Flashy, isn’t it?” The trooper snickered, breath as foul as rotten milk. “The slightest nick on your skin, and you’d bleed like a virgin.”

  “LET HIM GO!” Shouted Burn. His runeblade was drawn, power motes surrounding it and the rest of his body in a maroon aura.

  Mr. Dooley had done the same, mace in hand, and ready to fight.

  The trooper yanked Engin farther back, pulling him away and creating some distance from the caretakers.

  Perry was bawling tears. And Krip was standing paralyzed with fear, watching Madame Deitrich suspended in the air within a cage of banding flames.

  “MAKE ONE WRONG MOVE PIGGUMS AND I’LL SLICE HIS THROAT WITHOUT THINKING TWICE!”

  Burn’s face had turned entirely red. But even with his power mote channeling, there was something else fueling this color.

  Burn’s blessing.

  The Aya Machine had gifted him too. All the orphans knew about it. But they’d never seen it in action. Until now...

  His face began to bubble. His body began to transform... a red anger inside of him, boiling to show its true nature.

  “OH NO YOU DON’T!”

  It all happened so fast.

  Amadeus snapped his fingers, and Madame Detrich went up in flames. Like the fall of white snow, her ashes powdered the ground. An acrid fallout of charred hair and skin singing Engin’s nostrils. He almost fell backwards in shock, but Amadeus held him in place.

  Time slowed.

  Burn’s body returned to the same shape and complexion as it was before… a pale and pudgy mess. Mr. Dooley dropped his mace and fell to his knees.

  And all was quiet, once again.

  “I warned you not to test me.”

  Burn twitched, eyes unmoving from the pile of ashes on the floor.

  “Now then,” said Amadeus. “The Lady of the house, please.”

  Engin was sick to his stomach. Everything he had eaten for dinner, threatening to come up in volcanic bursts.

  “QUICKLY!” Amadeus barked. “I don’t have all day! I can slaughter this one as well if you want me to?”

  “NO!” Mr. Dooley shouted, getting back up to his feet. “NO! Please!” He was shedding tears, uncontrollable rivers of them, streaming down his face. “I beg of you please, leave the child out of this.”

  “Then fetch me the Lady of the house!” Demanded Amadeus, grinning wide and hysterically. “It really isn’t supposed to be this difficult.”

  “…I will go fetch her for you,” said Burn, his demeanor as grim as Engin had ever seen it.

  “No, Mr. Piggot.” Mr. Dooley stopped him, with trembling hands. “You stay here with the children. I will go. Just, please.” He looked to Amadeus, eyes surrendered. “Don’t hurt anyone else.”

  There was a nod of acceptance from Amadeus before Mr. Dooley disappeared into the darkness of the halls.

  Engin tried to break loose from the tight grip Amadeus had secured onto him, but the man was just too strong.

  “Don’t make this any harder for yourself, boy.”

  “I HATE YOU!” Engin screamed at the top of his lungs, the air of grief finally escaping him. “I HATE YOU!”

  “Pity, I know.” Amadeus whispered to him. “To witness something like this so young. But you’ll get over it. Believe me, you will.”