Displaced

Chapter 65

Arlette felt like she was in freefall, the ground having been suddenly pulled out from beneath her. Nothing made sense anymore. A cocktail of confusion with hints of happiness, betrayal, and rage churned through her soul, leaving her breathless.

"B-Basilli?" she hesitantly called out while she pushed her aching body back to her feet, still not able to fully believe the voice's existence and everything that it meant. "Basilli! How-"

She stepped around the corner, only to quickly duck back behind it as another blast of flame forced her to reverse course.

"The name's Jakob, Boss," Basilli called back. "Always has been."

"How are you alive?!" she cried out. "I watched you die! There's-"

Her former comrade's short, barking laugh cut her off. "You of all people should know that you can't believe everything you see. Did you think you were the only illusionist in the world? They had to get me out. There was no reason I needed to die with the rest of you, Boss. Or should I say Arlette now? Wouldn't do to have the real Boss hear me call you that."

Arlette's pain-addled brain finally began to piece together the obvious. She felt her legs go weak and leaned against the wall for support as past events began rushing back in a new light. "The trap with the Hidden Shadow all those years ago and your tip off... that was all a ruse to get you into the Ivory Tears."

"Finally figuring it out? Boss's been watching you for years. Only natural he'd have somebody on the inside."

"All those years you were reporting to him behind my back. All those 'contacts' you'd go visit in the criminal underworld whenever we arrived at a city..."

"Oh, I did more than just report. Remember when that contract with Drogan fell through right before you were going to take it and you had no idea why? That was us. Or the time we lost half our commission because most of the hostages we'd rescued somehow died before they could be delivered? I mean, they were weak, but they weren't on their death beds, you know what I'm saying?" He laughed, amused at his own duplicity. "And you ever wonder why so many bounty hunters were able to track us all the way through Kutrad?"

"You didn't!"

"You all tried so hard to hide your tracks, but all it took was broken branch here, an extra scuff mark or two there..."

"And the bounty hunters who attacked the caravan near Stragma?" Arlette asked, her rage growing with every sentence Basilli—no, Jakob—uttered.

"Oh, that was an easy one," he chuckled. "Just had to tip off the right people before we left. Didn't even take an hour!"

"You...! But why? You were only putting yourself in danger!"

"There's no reward without a little risk, and believe me, Boss gave me quite a reward. He didn't want you to escape too easily, see. The harder you had to work for it, the more it would hurt in the end when you failed."

"You fucking traitorous bastard! To think that I mourned your death for days! You scum! Even Sofie cried for you!"

"Sofie?!" Jakob cackled. "You're still with that useless baggage? Stars above, I'm amazed she's even still alive!"

"She crushed King Morgan's balls into paste with her foot, jackass, and that's the least I'm gonna do to you!"

"Oh yeah? Says the woman cowering around a corner? I'm right here, you pathetic excuse for a mercenary! Come on out! Or are you worthless now that Jaquet's not around to do all the work?"

As much as Arlette wanted to wring the jeering double-crosser's neck, Arlette kept herself planted behind the stone corner. Going into that hallway was what he wanted her to do. He had her pinned down. There was no realistic way that she'd be able to traverse that entire hallway before being cooked alive, especially after taking that first blast.