Grip of the Shadow Plague

The group passed into a cobbled courtyard, lit by electric cressets. Swirls of insects orbited the light sources. A few clusters of robed figures in silver masks strolled the area conversing. Above them, banners and flags hung limply in the still night air. The servant led Kendra and the others across the courtyard to a heavy, ironbound door, opened it with a key, stepped aside, and bowed.

Warren led the way into an ornate antechamber at the mouth of a cavernous hallway. A desk sat off to one side of the antechamber, before a pair of curtained booths. A person in a silver mask sat at the desk. Behind stood four robed figures, their silver masks trimmed with gold.

A short woman wearing a mauve gown greeted them. "Welcome, travelers, to our humble retreat. May you find safe harbor here until duty whisks you elsewhere." She had an average build, and looked to be in her fifties. Her chestnut hair was plaited in an antiquated style. A ring on her left hand held an obscenely huge diamond.

"A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Fairbanks," Warren said with a genteel air. "Our thanks for opening your home to us."

She flushed with pleasure. "Anytime. No invitation required!"

Behind her stood a jovial man in a powdered wig eating chicken and vegetables off of a skewer. "Quite so," he said, juice dribbling down his chin.

"A pleasure as always, Wesley," Warren acknowledged, inclining his head.

Biting into a mushroom, the man in the wig nodded back.

Warren turned to face the four masked figures in front of the booths. "North," he said, jerking a thumb at himself. "West." He gestured at Tanu and Coulter. Then he indicated Kendra. "Novice."

"The novice is East," said the man seated at the desk.

Warren leaned in to Kendra. "These are the four Lieutenants. They verify who we are under the masks, as a security measure. Each oversees a certain group, named by the points of the compass. The Eastern Lieutenant will confirm your identity."

Warren went into a booth with one of the figures in a gold-trimmed mask. A different Lieutenant marshaled Tanu into the other booth. Warren emerged promptly, mask in place, and another Lieutenant, the tallest one, guided Kendra into the vacant booth.

"Remove your mask, please," said a gruff voice.

Kendra took off the mask.

The Lieutenant nodded. "Welcome. You may proceed. We’ll speak more shortly."

Kendra replaced her mask and exited the booth at the same time as Coulter left the other one. Together they followed Warren and Tanu down the extravagant hall, treading on a long red carpet edged with intricate embroidery. Tapestries hung from the walls and full suits of gleaming armor flanked the corridor. Warren and Tanu passed through white double doors into a spacious salon dominated by a tremendous chandelier. Robed figures stood about, most of them conversing in groups of two or three. Sofas, chairs, and divans were spaced around the room to allow for many separate groups to sit and chat in comfort. The outside of the home might look like a fortress, but inside it was definitely a mansion.

Tanu and Warren split up after entering the room.

Following their lead, Kendra wandered over to a corner on her own. A couple of masked figures nodded at her as she passed. She nodded back, terrified to say a word.

Finding a place where she could stand with her back to the wall, Kendra surveyed the crowd. She was a good height for her age, but in this room, she was on the short end of the spectrum. A few of the other Knights were unusually tall, a few were abnormally fat, several looked broad and burly, a decent number were obviously women, and one was small enough to be eight years old. All wore the same silver masks and similar robes. Kendra counted more than fifty Knights in total.

The nearest Knights were a group of three, talking and laughing. After a while, one of them turned and stared at Kendra. Kendra tilted her face away, but it was too late, the figure was already crossing to her. "And what are you doing here in the corner?" asked a teasing female voice with a heavy French accent.

Kendra had not identified the stranger as a woman until she spoke. A good answer refused to enter her mind-she felt much too self-conscious. "Just waiting for the meeting."

"But the small talk is part of the meeting!" the woman enthused. "Where have you been lately?"

A direct question. Should she lie? She settled on vagueness. "Here and there."

"I recently returned from the Dominican Republic," the woman said. "Absolutely perfect weather. I was tracking an alleged member of the Society, a man who was asking questions about acquiring a dullion." Kendra had seen a dullion before, made of straw, when she was fleeing her home earlier in the summer. Vanessa had explained that they were like golems, although not quite as powerful. "Rumor has it there is a warlock on the island who can create them. Can you imagine the implications if that art has survived? I have been unable to confirm the tale, so who knows. I don’t recognize you, and you sound young, are you new?"

The woman spoke so frankly that Kendra felt considerable pressure to open up. Besides, it would be almost impossible for Kendra to disguise her youth. "I’m fairly young, yes."

"I started young myself, you know-"

"There you are," Warren interrupted. Beside him stood a tall figure in a silver mask with gold trim.

"If you will excuse us," the Lieutenant apologized to the Frenchwoman. "This young lady has an appointment with the Captain."

"I was about to guess she was a novice," the woman gushed. "So nice to meet you, hopefully we can work together sometime."

"Nice to meet you," Kendra replied as Warren took her elbow and guided her away.

The three of them exited the room and strode down the grandiose hallway to a smaller corridor. Some distance down the corridor, they stopped at a mahogany door. "Your presence is irregular," the Lieutenant informed Warren. "Inducting a minor is irregular as well," Warren said. "I promised her grandfather she wouldn’t leave my sight."

"You know me, Warren," the Lieutenant said. "Where would the child be safer than here?"

"Again, the operative word is child," Warren insisted.

The Lieutenant gave a curt nod and opened the door. The three of them entered. Three people were already in the room. One stood over by a wide fireplace, wearing a silver robe and a golden mask. The other two people wore silver masks and robes like Kendra’s.

"Warren?" asked the figure in the gold mask in a feminine Southern accent. "What are you doing here?"