Chapter 1
A few weeks earlier...
“What are you thinking about?” Frieda drew Haatim out of his thoughts and back to the world at hand. He stood staring out of the window at the mountains and countryside as they flowed past. Headed through Switzerland, the beautiful landscape slid past their train. In only a few more hours, they would reach the Council buildings where they would stay for the next few months during Abigail’s trial.
Snow had fallen in the region, leaving a light dusting over everything. At just the beginning of winter, conditions would get considerably colder before spring thawed everything out again.
His mind drifted far away in his thoughts and memories. It would be the first time since the aftermath of Raven’s Peak that he had spent more than a few hours in the same room with his father. He couldn’t decide if he looked forward to the prospect or not.
On the one hand, Aram had raised him. Taught him right from wrong. Helped him grow up and shown him how to be a man.
Haatim kept thinking of the little things, like how to tie his shoes and shave. He loved his father dearly and missed listening to him tell him stories about the wide world and all of the places he’d been.
Yet, on the other hand, Haatim could hardly believe how much of his true self that Aram had kept hidden from him. The sheer volume of lies he’d told his son since birth felt staggering. His father had withheld everything that mattered and kept him in the dark. All of those fairy tales that his father had told him about the world had just been stories.
A fairly large part of Haatim felt furious at such complete deceit. His father was his blood, and if he should have been able to trust anyone in the world, that person should be Aram Malhotra. And yet, he’d come to find out that his father made for exactly the sort of man he couldn’t trust.
How the hell would he ever explain that to Frieda?
“Just thinking about life,” Haatim said, realizing how vague his words sounded. “Nothing in particular.”
Frieda sat on the railcar seat opposite him, studying him in a way that always made him uncomfortable. The woman never seemed to smile, but he also found her quite beautiful despite being many years his senior. She had an austere and pristine grace that captivated.
Right now, she wore a gray business suit with a white blouse and high heels. A mole sat on her left cheek, and she had her blonde hair tied up in a bun. It amazed him that she could always dress so immaculately, even in the craziest of circumstances. He’d never once, in all the months he’d traveled with her, seen so much as a hair out of place.
“Are you worried about confronting your father?”
Haatim cursed her intuition. She always seemed to know exactly what thoughts held him in thrall.
“It is a concern,” he said. “Aram … my father kept so much from me—from us. I don’t think he told anyone in my entire family about this secret life he leads. I doubt he told my sister anything before she passed away, either, and I know my mother is in the dark. I just never knew he could lie to us about so many important things.”
“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
“No,” he said. “But it does make it harder to trust him. I never even guessed he would keep something from me, let alone something like this. I think that says something about me as much as him.”
If he’d expected Frieda to disagree, he’d find disappointment. “It’s a wonder the things we can convince ourselves of when we have a stake in maintaining our false reality.”
Haatim looked back out of the window, tapping his fingers lightly on his knee. “I’m also worried about Abigail,” he said, after a few moments. “I haven’t seen her in months and want to make sure she’s all right. Are you worried about seeing her?”
Frieda hesitated. “I suppose I am a little bit, and about what comes next. The evidence your father’s built up will make proving Abigail’s innocence quite challenging.”
“You can do it, though, right?”
“Of course,” she said. “Abigail has many faults, but at heart, she’s one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. I’ll never regret the decisions I made to trust Arthur all those years ago.”
Haatim wanted to ask her what she meant. All the time, she made vague statements about Abigail’s past, but whenever he questioned her more deeply about it, she closed up and refused to speak to him at all.
He decided not to try and get more information right now. If he’d learned one thing over the past few months of traveling with Frieda, it was that he shouldn’t press his luck. Frieda would tell him when she wanted to.
“She did save my life,” he said, instead. “When I tell them what happened at Raven’s Peak, they’ll have no choice but to release her.”
“Maybe,” Frieda said.
“You said I would be allowed to testify.”
“You will, and your father is on the Council, so your words will carry weight, but I fear that some of the evidence against her will prove hard to overlook. I feel certain that I can prove she’s a hero for what happened in Raven’s Peak, but that doesn’t mean she’s not also guilty of many other crimes. She has broken our laws and disobeyed orders. My job is to show that she’s still redeemable.”
“Dumb laws,” Haatim said before he could stop himself.
Frieda shrugged. “Many of them are, and I would love to remove or change half of them. But, just because they shouldn’t exist, doesn’t mean we can ignore them. You can’t change a system if you refuse to play by its rules.”
Haatim returned his gaze back through the window just as the train went over a bridge. An enormous canyon stretched into the distance, several hundred meters below them. He couldn’t even see the bridge next to them, just the emptiness.
Part of him sat in awe of it, and the other part felt terrified. Heights weren’t his thing, and he couldn’t keep his fingers from tapping.
He’d never been much for riding trains, but this seemed like something else entirely. The tracks ran up and through the mountains, passing innumerable pristine vistas, unlike anything he’d ever imagined seeing. To call it awe-inspiring gave a disservice to the true power of what he experienced.
Beauty, he’d come to realize, could also terrify all too often.
“Would you like a drink?” Frieda asked.
“Sure,” he said.
She stood and walked to the bar near the middle of their railcar. They rode in high comfort in one of the luxury cars. Each ticket cost more than the monthly allowance he’d had while he lived in Arizona. On these travels with Frieda, he enjoyed comforts he felt unaccustomed to.
However, he could get used to them with little effort.
Frieda returned a moment later with two mixed drinks.
“Kirsch,” she said, handing him one.
He took a sip and winced. It tasted sweet but incredibly harsh on his throat. When he glanced up, Frieda had an amused expression on her face as she watched him.
“Takes some getting used to.” She stirred her drink with a finger, and then took a sip. “We’re almost to Lausanne.”
“I can’t wait.” Haatim took another cautious sip. “We’ve been cooped up in these seats for too long. I still need to do my stretches.”
Frieda nodded. “Every day,” she said. “But I won’t be able to do them with you anymore.”
“You mean because of the trial?”
“Yes. I won’t be able to teach you anymore.”
“I understand,” Haatim said.
For the last several months, Frieda had trained him in how to defend himself. Basics of hand-to-hand combat and the use of fairly common weapons like pistols and shotguns. He wouldn’t have considered himself ready for a real fight by any stretch, but he felt better prepared to defend himself than he had a few months ago.
“I’ve asked someone else to continue your training, and he will be able to help you tremendously with your fighting and survival abilities; far more than I ever could.”
“Who?”
“Dominick Cupertino. A dear friend and incredibly loyal.”
“Okay,” Haatim said. “Does he know about …?”
Even without finishing the thought, Frieda knew what he meant. She shook her head. “I would advise discretion. I trust Dominick completely, but some things are best kept secret.”
They spoke of the events in the factory at Raven’s Peak. Haatim had faced down a demon in a violent confrontation. It had tried to harm him, but he had chanted a stream of litanies and prayers that he’d learned through his years of studying religions. Somehow, he’d managed to walk unharmed through a tornado of dangerous objects that the demon threw at him.
He’d told Frieda about it and felt surprised at how readily she’d believed him. The woman had heard stories about people with abilities similar to what he had demonstrated, but knew few concrete details about just what happened. It lay outside her expertise.
Frieda recommended that he keep the details to himself until they could better determine what had gone down. Fine with him. The only people that knew were himself, Frieda, and Abigail.
To be perfectly honest, he didn’t feel totally sure if he believed anything strange had happened. When he looked back through his memories, he thought it more likely that the demon had simply gotten overconfident and Haatim exceedingly lucky.
“I’ll avoid discussing too much with him,” Haatim said. “He’ll teach me to fight?”
“He’ll beat the hell out of you,” Frieda said. Haatim thought she was joking, but she didn’t smile. She rarely smiled. “Hopefully, you’ll learn something about fighting along the way.”
Her statement didn’t reassure him.
They rode in silence for another ten minutes before reaching the city. Small and quaint, it had a lot of short buildings spread out into the distance. The station sat on the outskirts of the city, little more than a platform and series of ticket booths.
The train pulled to a stop next to the platform, and people filed out. Not a lot. The train appeared about half-full, right now, of bundled up adults and children. Haatim watched them disembark, and it took him a moment to realize Frieda sat watching him.
“We’d better go,” she said, finally. “The train won’t wait around forever.”
“Where’s it go now?”
“Basel,” she said. “But it’s a long trip through the mountains.”
He nodded and stood, grabbing his duffel bag. Toiletries and a change of clothes the only items he’d packed. “Are you ready?”
“Welcome, welcome!” a man said, as they exited the railcar onto the platform. He looked medium height and well-built, muscular and athletic, with brown hair and eyes and a winning smile. Most of the other passengers had gone already, heading off to their rides or a nearby rental office to get a car.
“Hello, Dominick,” Frieda said, greeting him with a modest hug. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s been a while.” He walked over to Haatim and stuck out his hand. “You must be Haatim.”
“That I am.” Haatim shook it. Dominick had one hell of a grip. Haatim took care not to wince.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice that I finally get to put a face to the name. Do you guys have any bags you want me to grab?”
“No,” Frieda said. She held up her bag, and then gestured at Haatim’s duffel. “We travel light. Martha will come with the rest of our stuff in a few days.”
Martha worked as Frieda’s assistant, and a highly competent one at that. Haatim never noticed her, but she always seemed to be there whenever Frieda needed something. She had stayed behind in Germany for a few extra days, wrapping up business, before following them.
“All right,” Dominick said. “Right this way.”
He led them off the platform and into the parking lot. He kept talking, but Haatim barely noticed what he said. He felt fatigued from traveling so much over the last few days and didn’t have the energy to converse about the weather.
They stuffed their bags in the trunk, and then climbed into the cabin. Frieda took the front—fine with Haatim because it meant she would do the talking. A moment later, they headed into town.
Most of the buildings looked old like they had a lot of history. Snow covered the streets, and the going proved slow, as the tires skidded across slippery patches. Luckily, with most people preferring to stay in, not much traffic used the roads. The city didn’t seem to be in any hurry to clear the snow.
“We’ll fly in,” Dominick said. “The roads to the hotel have closed until we can hire someone to clear them. It’s expected to keep snowing for another few days, and then we’ll have good weather for several weeks.”
“Have you spoken to Abigail?” Frieda asked.
“I have,” Dominick said. “She’s struggling. Being locked up for this long hasn’t been good for her.”
“Aram keeps postponing,” Frieda said. “He wants to put as much time between the trial and what happened at Raven’s Peak as possible.”
“Why?” Dominick asked.
“So no one thinks about it when the trial starts. Raven’s Peak wasn’t a good day for the Council, but people can justify their actions more easily over time. He’s also trying to make it harder for Abigail so that she doesn’t testify so well.”
“It’s working,” Dominick said.
“Not for much longer. I’m here now, and the Council won’t allow him to postpone again.”
“That’s good,” Dominick said. “We’re also pulling in a lot of mercenaries.”
“I know,” Frieda said. “I don’t like it, but Aram is in control of security right now.”
“Are you vetting them?”
“As much as possible,” she said. “Most of them have shady pasts, though, so I’m not sure who to trust.”
“Have things gotten so bad?”
“We aren’t recruiting, and our numbers have dwindled. We have three Hunters on site, counting you, and the rest out on assignment. We don’t have the soldiers to manage our security.”
“Things have changed a lot since I first showed up,” Dominick said.
“They’ll get better,” Frieda said. “We’ve had a rough couple of years, and the Council is trying to solve too many problems economically and diplomatically, but we are considering starting a new recruitment push. After Raven’s Peak, I think I have them convinced that we’ve neglected our army long enough.”
Dominick didn’t reply, and they drove in silence for a while. Frieda didn’t often talk about the affairs of the Council, and certainly never with such negativity, which meant that she did trust Dominick.
And himself, Haatim realized. It surprised him how quickly Frieda had come to trust him, considering how new to all of this he was. Maybe because he offered an outside perspective and didn’t have any stake in what they discussed.
Either way, it felt good.
“We’re here.” Dominick pulled the car into the airport. The tires crunched across the snow, and he drove up to a private helipad and parked.
Haatim and Frieda shuffled out of the car after him, following across the snow toward a gray and plain helicopter without any visible insignia or markings. It looked large, about three meters tall, with a pilot’s door on each side and a passenger door entering from the right.
“Meet Spinner.”
“Spinner?”
“Yeah,” Dominick said. “This is my baby. Climb in. Haatim, you can ride up front and be my copilot.”
“I don’t know how to fly.”
“Neither do I,” Dominick said. “But it hasn’t stopped me so far.”
Haatim hoped he was kidding. He climbed up front and buckled himself in. Dominick passed him a helmet with a built-in microphone and headphones.
“Can you hear me?” Haatim asked, aligning the microphone to his mouth.
“Yeah,” Dominick said, flipping controls on the dashboard. “But, if you want me to hear you while we’re airborne, you might want to flip on the microphone.”
Haatim felt around the helmet, finally finding a switch under the left ear. He flipped it, and everything became much clearer. “That better?”
“Much,” Dominick said, and his voice came through loud and clear.
The engine kicked on, and the blades rotated, but the headset blocked most of the noise. After a few minutes of prep, they got airborne. Gradually, the city shrunk beneath them until the buildings looked like tiny specs. It seemed like a snow globe to Haatim, beautiful and packed under mounds of snow.
“Haven’t flown much, have you?” Dominick asked.
“I have in planes,” Haatim said. “This is something new, though.”
“Beats the hell out of planes if you ask me.”
“I flew once before,” Haatim said. “When we left Raven’s Peak. They flew us out, but I don’t remember much. I fell asleep.”
“I was in Germany when that happened,” Dominick said, shaking his head. “Hate that I missed the party.”
“Definitely crazy,” Haatim said. “How far are we flying?”
“About a ten-minute flight to the hotel,” Dominick said. “Your rooms are all ready to go.”
Haatim watched the mountains slip past beneath, as they flew away from the city. The mountains looked jagged and uninviting; he’d never seen nature so pristine and foreboding.
He didn’t see another structure until they reached their destination. A huge hotel sat tucked away in a small valley, surrounded by trees and forest and barely noticeable. A single road ran to it, dead-ending into the hotel and almost completely buried under mounds of snow.
It reminded him a little of the hotel in The Shining, but he pushed the thought away.
“That’s where we’re staying?”
“Yep,” Dominick said. “Home sweet home.”
He lowered Spinner toward the lawn out front. The ground rose to meet them until he finally touched it down. The landing pads sank about two feet into the snow. The blades above slowed when he powered down the engine until finally coming to a stop. Everything fell silent. The absence of the engine rang in Haatim’s ears.
“I hope the roads clear in the next couple of days,” Dominick said, taking off his helmet. Haatim followed suit, setting it on the dash. “But, until then, we’re stuck here.”
“I can think of worse places to get stuck,” Haatim said, climbing out.
The snow came up to the middle of his shin, making it difficult to walk.
They made it to the lobby, and warm air came out to greet them. Frieda closed the door behind them. “Where’s Abigail?”
“Down the hall,” Dominick said, pointing. “On the left side. You’ll see Jim and Mike parked out front.”
“Aram is using them as guards?”
“For now,” Dominick said.
“I’ll put a stop to that today. If he’s bringing in mercenaries, then he sure as hell isn’t using Hunters to babysit.”
She headed off at speed, striding down the hall in the direction that Dominick had indicated. Haatim thought to follow her but decided not to; he would let her have some time alone with Abigail before interrupting them.
Instead, he shook out of his heavy coat and warmed his hands. Though so miserable outside, he hadn’t realized just how cold he’d become.
“At least the furnace works,” he said.
“You’re telling me,” Dominick said. “They’re spoiling us out here.”
“I’m not a fan of cold weather.” Haatim rubbed his hands some more.
“Me neither,” Dominick said. “Give me a beach and martini any day. The cold does have its uses, though.”
“Yeah?”
“It’ll make your training a lot easier.”
Haatim didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll find out. Get some rest. We’ll start in the morning. Want me to show you to your quarters?”
Haatim shook his head. “No,” he said. “First, I need to talk to my father. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Upstairs in Conference Room B,” Dominick said. “It’s his office for now.”
“All right,” Haatim said.
“You’re on the top floor.” Dominick handed him a keycard.
“Isn’t the place mostly empty?” Haatim scrunched up his face. “Why not the first floor?”
“Because you’re going to get real good at taking the stairs,” Dominick said, smiling. He headed off before Haatim could respond, disappearing down a side hallway.
Haatim glanced at the keycard and sighed before sliding it into his pocket.
Time to go see his father.
Haatim hesitated outside the door to the conference room, gathering his courage for the confrontation surely about to ensue. He wanted to see Aram, but also felt worried about just what sort of a yelling match such a meeting might entail.
He could turn around and head to his room instead, but that wouldn’t help anything. Sooner or later, he would still have to see his father and, if anything, he’d rather just get it over with. Like pulling off a Band-Aid.
He knocked on the door.
“Come in.” The heavy wood muffled his father’s voice.
Haatim opened the door. His father sat at the head of an expansive conference table. The room had a vaulted ceiling and looked expensive and tasteful. The only person inside, Aram worked with multiple sheets of paper spread out before him.
“Yes? What is it?” Aram asked, not looking up.
“It’s me,” Haatim said. “Hello, Father.”
Aram glanced at the door. When he saw Haatim, his face lit up. He jumped out of his seat and hurried across the room to his son. Aram wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him tightly.
“Haatim,” he said. “My son.”
Not exactly the greeting he’d expected. It caught him off-guard. He’d avoided his father for months now—not answering his calls and deleting his messages without listening to them. He assumed his father would be furious with him, but he seemed the opposite.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Aram said.
“I’ve missed you, as well,” Haatim said. “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I’ve been extremely busy.”
Aram waved the concern away. “Think nothing of it,” he said. “I appreciate how difficult things must have been for you since your time at Raven’s Peak. Everyone has their way of dealing with things, and yours has always been internal.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Aram rubbed his son’s shoulder and smiled at him.
“Your mother misses you, too,” he said, finally.
“She’s here?”
“In Lausanne.” Aram separated and released his son. “I’ve put her up in a hotel nearby for a couple of weeks. After you left, she didn’t want to be alone, so when I had to go to work, she came with me. She’s had an excellent vacation.”
“I’m sure she has,” Haatim said.
He missed her. He’d spoken with her a few times in the last couple of months, but they hadn’t had a lot they could talk about. His mother remained unaware of this world, and he didn’t like lying to her.
Unlike his father, apparently.
Still, it felt nice that she stayed close by. It would be good to visit her.
“How have things been with Frieda?” Aram asked.
“Busy,” Haatim said. “Thirteen countries. I’ve seen more of the world in the last few months than the rest of my life.”
“Her life is rather hectic.” Aram nodded. “She likes to oversee things and micromanage. Has she been kind to you?”
“She has,” Haatim said. “And she’s told me … a lot of things. We met some of the operatives out in the world.”
“That’s good,” Aram said. “It’s good that you’re learning about this world.”
“The trial has her concerned,” Haatim said. “She doesn’t think there’s a good reason to have it at all, and I tend to agree with her. That’s why I came here to speak with you today.”
Aram frowned. “Haatim, I don’t wish to talk about—”
“Abigail saved my life,” Haatim said.
“After putting you at risk.”
“Through no fault of her own,” Haatim said. “They were after me, whether or not she got involved.”
“That’s debatable,” Aram said. “And, I’m still looking into just what happened in Arizona. You nearly died, son.”
“I remember,” Haatim said, his voice sharper than intended. “I promise you that she had nothing to do with it.”
Aram looked as if about to object, but then his expression cleared. “I understand your position, but things happened for which she cannot be forgiven. At least, not without a trial.”
“Why are you pushing so hard to have her punished? What has she done to you?”
“It’s not about her or me,” Aram said. “It’s about the law and upholding our values. You’ve been with Frieda. You’ve seen the sorry state of what we’ve become.”
“What do you mean?”
“How many operatives did you visit? Ten? Twenty? There aren’t many of us left, and the ones we do have, feel afraid to act. Our Order has grown weak, and gets weaker by the day because we refuse to uphold the values that made us great.”
“What values?”
“Truth, strength, and obedience.” Aram held up a finger to enunciate each point. “We need to unite behind one goal. Not many.”
“How does Abigail fit into that?”
“What she did … it goes against everything we stand for.”
“She saved thousands of innocent people, including your son, multiple times, and stood against and defeated a horrible demon. How can that go against what you stand for?”
“You don’t understand.” Aram squeezed Haatim’s shoulder once more. “This isn’t your world. One day, you will, but for now, you need to trust that I know what is best. I have things in hand, and what I am doing is right.”
Haatim took a deep and steadying breath, desperately trying to keep his anger and emotions under control. He hated when his father became patronizing and demeaning, and part of him wanted to storm out of the room in frustration.
When younger, he would have done just that. And, now, he’d done with taking his father at his word. “I intend to testify on Abigail’s behalf.”
“Absolutely not. I forbid it.”
“You cannot stop me. I know the laws and what rights I have. I am allowed to testify and am both willing and able.”
“A mistake. We should stand united.”
“I survived Raven’s Peak. I know what transpired and what Abigail did. She risked her life. She is a selfless and good person, Father, and if you are too ignorant to see it, then I pity you.”
“Did Frieda put you up to this?”
“No,” Haatim said. “The decision is mine alone.”
Clearly, Aram didn’t believe him. “My son, you need to take more time learning and finding out about this world before jumping in with both feet.”
“I don’t have that luxury,” Haatim said. “Considering everything that happened, I’m certain I’m submerged already.”
“I don’t want you to end up on the wrong side of this,” Aram said. “We have forces at play here that you don’t understand. Perhaps it would be best if you remained an impartial bystander.”
“No,” Haatim said. “I’ve made up my mind, and I know enough about the rules to know you can’t keep me away. I wanted to do you the courtesy of telling you myself rather than you hearing it secondhand.”
Aram frowned. “You cannot be persuaded?”
Haatim just stared at him.
“Very well,” Aram said with a deep sigh. “When the trial begins, you will, of course, be allowed to testify on Abigail’s behalf.”
“Good.”
An awkward moment passed, and Haatim couldn’t think of anything to say to break the silence.
Finally, his father spoke. “I missed you. And I can see that you aren’t a little boy anymore. I’m proud of everything you’ve done and the man you’ve become.”
“Thank you,” Haatim said.
“When this trial is over, and things settle back down, we need to spend more time together. I can show you things that Frieda never will.”
Haatim didn’t respond, not sure if his father wanted to create doubt in his mind about Frieda or if he simply wanted an excuse to spend time with his son.
Not that it mattered. He did miss his father, and maybe once they had put Abigail’s trial behind them, they would be able to move forward without disagreeing about everything.
Not likely, but worth hoping for.
“Of course,” he said. “Once the trial is over. I should head up to my room now and unpack. Good seeing you.”
“Goodbye,” his father said, giving him another hug.
Haatim headed for the door. As he opened it, his father said, “Oh, and make sure to go visit your mother as soon as the weather gets better. She misses you.”
