Prologue
His boisterous laughter echoed among the tall ceilings of the massive, elaborately decorated dining room. A laughter she hadn’t heard in ages. A laughter she hadn’t missed. She glanced up at the cavernously dark corners of the vaulted ceiling and sighed. Her father’s taste in crystal chandeliers was embarrassingly extravagant. Despite the candlelit crystal ornament lighting the marble pillars around them with the light of dozens of burning wicks, she couldn’t see the ceiling. It was covered in the blanket of darkness as it arched high above them.
“He always did have the smartest wit. Quick mind, that one!” the man said.
His two other guests laughed along with him, sharing the enthusiasm. She didn’t smile at all. She hated being here with every vein of her body.
Her older brother, Marcus, joined in, “Only as quick as his taste in women!”
The room erupted with even more laughter. Her silent gaze never left the untouched plate of food in front of her. It was so clean in this mansion that a fly hadn’t even found it yet.
Her father’s smiling face loosened slightly as he wiped a tear, “Jillian, dear. Does something trouble you? Is your protege faring nicely to her new life?”
Her younger brother down the table, Augustine, chuckled and stroked his mustache, “A protege? Who the hell married you?”
She slammed her fist on the table, cracking the wood, “Enough!”
“Oh, look out. You pissed her off.” Marcus mocked, rolling his eyes before taking a sip of wine.
She yelled, “A member of our family was murdered, and nothing has been done of it!”
Her father sighed, “We’ve investigated the situation with the locals, and they say it was a Solladin that did the deed. We don’t know anything else. Why don’t you have some w-”
“So...some fucking scaly kills my brother. No team, no bounty? Nothing?”
Augustine nodded, “We miss him too, Jill. But we can’t do anything without a lead. You want us to investigate every Solladin with his description? It’s St. Bastion! There’s easily thousands of lizards there!”
The woman sat back down, “Mom would’ve had the idiot hanging by his entrails by now.”
Her father chuckled, “Oh, she certainly would.” he continued, “Look. I know you two were close, Jillian. You were twins, after all! I didn’t mean to insult your memory of him.”
She glared at her father. Her eyes could cut him in half. Marcus looked around like he heard something, but shrugged it off. Probably just the wind outside.
Her father continued, “This is supposed to be a dinner where we could remember his life with fondness and appreciate the memories we have.” He smiled at his daughter, “That, and if you want...you can investigate your brother’s passing yourself. You’ll be in St. Bastion tomorrow, anyways.”
She flipped the plate of food onto the tablecloth, tarnishing the perfectly white silk with the stains of her meal, “Un-fucking believable.”
Marcus nearly jumped out of his seat at her display of immaturity, but his father motioned for him to stay seated. Her brother took his hand off the holster on his hip and sunk back into the fine leather seats of the elegant chair with a sigh.
She ignored them both, “You invite me here after not seeing you in over a decade to talk shit and then send me on an errand. Why am I surprised?”
“As much as I loved Hunter, we all know he was quite the...” he took a sip of wine, “...black sheep of the family.”
“But he threw the best parties.” Marcus said, taking a bite of food.
She glared her brother down, “You hardly knew him.” He shrugged and chewed the bite.
Her father turned around to the massive wooden doors behind his chair, “Kristauf! The envelope, please?”
A butler older than time itself opened the sturdy, twelve-foot wooden doors and walked in, handing his lord an envelope, “Mr. Caine.”
“Thank you, Kristauf.” He tossed the envelope to Jillian, who snatched it out of the air.
“You obviously don’t want to be here with us. Inside this envelope is an address and a rather large amount of money. I’m purchasing something off the black market there and need it delivered to me – in one piece – for my collection.”
She opened the envelope and skimmed the note with a sigh, “What’s the haul? Another artifact or something?”
“Only the most important artifact of them all.” he smiled warmly, “It should delight you to see it for yourself. I’ll spare no further details, lest the surprise is lost.”
“Nerd.” Augustine muttered with a smirk to his sister.
“Quit teasing your sister. Besides, I’m the one deserving of that moniker. Its my artifact.” Her father said.
She put the envelope in the purse hanging off her chair as her father picked up his glass of wine and continued, “The meeting takes place tomorrow night. Stay as long as you need in St. Bastion to find information on your brother’s killer, if you wish. Just bring that artifact back from my associates in one piece – it took a year for them to steal it in the first place.”
She grumbled and stood up. She pushed her chair in, motioning with her fingers over her shoulder. A child fell from the shadows of the vaulted ceiling and skimmed the overly magnificent crystal chandelier on her way down. It slowly trembled from the breeze. She slammed feet-first on the table only a yard in front of Jillian’s father, knocking over the two brothers’ glasses of wine. The two of them bolted out of their chairs ready to fight. Augustine had a sword in hand. Marcus had a shaking revolver trained on the little girl’s head before she could blink. Ready to kill.
Their father laughed at the girl clad in leather tactical clothing, nearly spilling the wine glass in his hand, “Aren’t you delightful! I was waiting to meet you all night, my dear.” he said.
Evelyn looked up and smiled innocently at the old man, hopping to the floor and quietly walking around his chair to the massive wooden doors, holding them open for her mentor as Jillian walked past her father without a word.
Marcus holstered his revolver, “How the hell didn’t we hear her?” Augustine sighed and sheathed his sword, sitting back back down in the extravagant leather chair.
Their father put his glass of wine down, “Because she was trained by your sister – and Jillian has something the two of you never developed on your own.”
The door closed behind him as his daughter and her protege left.
“Balls.”
