No News Is...

Year 20: “Morgan, disappearing days after you've been released from Greystone is not the most reassuring way of telling me I've done the right thi-... What is that?”

Morgan held a heavily swathed body to him. He walked with it down the hall and went down a side stair to the guest rooms on the story below. He carefully unfolded the tarp and a young waif of a female with peroxide blond hair with brown highlights and a semi-Asian face was revealed. Morgan carefully checked her pulse and her breathing before removing her shoes and tucking her into the bed. Then, he removed his cloak and folded it.

Michael just stared. “There is an explanation for this, right?”

Morgan walked away. “Contract for the Court of Mages. They wanted me to collect her.”

Michael tried to keep pace with him. “So, what are you doing with her here?”

“I am awaiting further instructions.”

“Where did you find her?”

“She was walking the streets. She apparently worked as a street con.”

“That still doesn't answer why you stashed her here.”

They had reached Morgan's office. He reached into his desk, cajoled open the false bottom of a drawer and pulled out a folio. He walked silently back to the girl.

He passed the packet to Michael and whispered something as his fingertips touched her cheek. She awoke with a start. “Do not be frightened,” Morgan said gently. “I have no intention of harming you.”

Morgan put his hand over her mouth as she attempted to scream. “You are in my home, screaming is not a good idea. I assure you, you will not be harmed here.”

She bit him. He did not release his grip, even as blood started to seep from the wound. “Michael, hand her that packet you are holding.”

Michael wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but he stepped forward and let the folio fall onto her stomach.

“I know you are frightened, but I am not going to harm you. If I wanted to kill or harm you, I would have done it already. Now, relax and take a look at that packet. I was told it was for you alone.”

She looked down at it, and slowly released her teeth. Morgan drew back his hand just as slowly. When she didn't scream, he cradled the wound in his other hand. He got up and went off to cleanse his hand. She picked opened the folio. Loose papers and a couple charms fell out. She picked some up and looked at them. “These are written in gibberish,” she said.

Michael cleared his throat. “Mind if I look at those? I know several languages, I might be able to help.”

She threw him a dirty look. Then pushed the pile away. “Yeah, whatever.”

Michael picked up one of the loose charms. It contained a sigil for Grand Duke Stephen III, ruler of the Court of Mages. He picked up the other one. It was a Magir symbol. He looked at the document that was sitting at the top. He translated out loud. “These papers are meant and held as proof that the owner of these sigla are Crown Prince Valerie Anne Winmere, heir designate to Grand Duke Stephen III, who will ascend to the throne upon majority of years and marriage to an appropriate male of ability and station...”

Morgan said from behind him. “All hail the future Queen of the Mages.”

“Are you sure, Morgan?”

“Quite.” He flipped another sigil in his hand that glowed brighter the closer he walked to the girl. As he did, a faint hum also became noticeable. “I did not know who she was, only they were looking for the one that resonates to this.”

Valerie looked at them. “All right, who put you up to this? This is a great joke, but really...”

“I did not grab you off the streets for the sake of a joke. I am a mercenary that was paid to find you and hold you until further instruction. I was also told to make sure you were comfortable and to give you those papers. I did not have any idea I was going after His Grace's heir.”