Cut From A Tattered Cloth

Chapter 31

Miliare was supposedly at the M-track station.

Eijiro hadn't actually seen him. If Donny wasn't so fond of his apprentice, he'd start to wonder if he'd been misled on purpose.

"Easy, Eiji," Donny said in his ear. "We know what we're doing."

Eijiro grunted, watching the floating trains that zig-zagged through the air. Commuters poured in and out with each stop. Their heads down, wrists frequently turned over to stare at their comms or to listen to music through their earpieces. Miliare could be any of them. Was he the man with a hood pulled over his head? Or was he hidden behind one of the newspapers at the coffee stand, pretending to read the broadsheets?

"What was he wearing?" Eijiro asked, pulling a tissue to feign wiping his nose as he spoke. That might've been excessive, but he didn't want to risk any of Miliare's men lip-reading his words.

"Wool cap, trench coat, and a tiny mustache I honestly thought was a booger."

Eijiro stifled a laugh, playing it off as a cough. He'd forgotten about the mustache. He scanned the crowd, looking for a middle-aged man that fit that description. Ironically the mustache detail helped, but not by much.

In his ear, Donny's voice turned somber. "He's not what I expected, Eiji. I'm almost insulted by that."

"I know," Eijiro whispered. "Annoying, isn't it?"

For a man that built his empire off the backs of slaves, Miliare didn't look like a threat. When he last saw him, Miliare barely reached Eijiro's chest. 

"He was always more for pulling strings than doing the work himself," Eijiro said, "He never acted unless it was to make new connections, or to punish those that abused the old ones."

Donny scoffed. "Yeah, well I've got a nine millimeter that would love to connect with him."

Eijiro almost smiled at that. Get in line, Donny, he thought. He tightened the coils around his wrists, eyes sweeping the platform. Where was Miliare? Eijiro had expected him to be waiting at the entrance, or sitting at one of the benches. In spite of his size–or maybe because of it–Miliare wasn't known for being subtle.

Two trains arrived as a third one left. Eijiro heard the air brakes hiss on the arriving ones, the recorded voice advising passengers to stand away from the doors. Growing impatient, Eijiro went up to the platform above him. People cleared the way for him. Since it wasn't rush hour yet, he was easily recognizable and commuters weren't so busy that they couldn't stop or nod to him in deferment.

"Thank you for serving us, honored Mage," one woman said, bowing her head as she cradled her baby.

Eijiro tried to smile, something he worried came out more like a grimace. He wasn't an Honored Mage. That was the second highest rank in the Mages, right under Kairos. Eijiro was a Special Mage, which meant he ranked closer to the Grands than the Honoreds. But, the average citizen didn't need to know that.

He stepped onto the empty platform, checking the time on his comm. The next train coming would mark the beginning of rush hour. If Miliare didn't come soon, he'd–

Donny's voice came on. "Eiji! We got him!"

Eijiro jumped. "What? Where?" His eyes darted back and forth, coils at the ready.

"Two platforms down, he just got out of the restroom."

Eijiro ran to the stairs, stopping short when he saw all the commuters from the platform above. He'd never get down in time. Grunting, he ran the other way, towards the edge of the platform.

"Woah, Eiji," Donny called in his ear, "What are you doing?"

Eijiro ignored him. He leapt off the platform, lashing a coil overhead so he could swing down. He heard a horn blare, realizing almost too late that a train was passing through. He curled his legs above his head, hanging like a spider as the train sped beneath him, missing him by inches.