Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Twelve: Polina Volkova

“Polina Volkova?”

A speckled youth with a baby face and circles around his eyes called out as he opened the door to her office. They didn’t even knock anymore. It was somewhat understandable, as they were swamped with work from sunrise to sunset, and the juniors were running on less sleep than she was.

“Yes…” Polina groaned. It was too early to deal with others. Couldn't she have a little quiet time alone first? “What is it?”

“Priority from upstairs.” The junior handed her a large sealed envelope.

“Right,” She said, gesturing to the pile of documents and envelopes on one side of the desk. “Shall I put it with my backlog of priority assignments here? Or perhaps…” She waved towards the other side of the desk, where another tower of paper lay waiting. “Should it go under the extra-important priority backlog?”

The junior shrugged. “It’s more… extra-important-right-now priority,” he gestured for her to look at the document. Polina saw the red stamp pressed upon the envelope and resisted the urge to cry.

“Did he give this to you himself?”

“Yes, said to tell you that you’ve got ten minutes.”

“Until?”

“Until you need to be in his office upstairs with an analysis.”

“Christ!” She waved the junior away. “Get out then! Times ticking!”

After her door was closed she ripped open the envelope and spread out the documents. She skimmed the summary. It was a report consisting of an aggregation of eyewitness accounts of a recent battle between republican forces and…

“A single ship… the black ship,” She muttered to herself as her heartbeat increased. “It’s the Vengeance. You’ve appeared before me again…” Her brain clicked into focus, and the weariness she felt was pushed away. Port Highwind had been taken by surprise, leaving the skies undefended for an assault fleet to push through.

The report didn’t seem to focus on that. In fact, it didn’t seem that concerned with the Vengeance itself. That was strange. That ship was a priority assignment for the bureau, and there was a dedicated team to tracking it. A team she had desperately tried to get on.

Polina gave herself a mental slap. Now wasn’t the time for ruminating on the past. The report was more concerned with the testimonies of a group of republican soldiers - defenders of the port - that had been rescued as they were being transported in an opportunistic strike.

She became bewildered at what she read as she examined their eyewitness accounts. “A human healer… gunshots…” As she read further, her eyes widened in surprise. “Serena Halen and Korvus Maranai fought!? They Spoke!?” With renewed vigour, she devoured the information from the other eyewitness accounts.

Just as she was about to start mentally constructing different scenarios, she caught sight of the wall clock. She was late! Polina lept up, scrambling to put the documents back together, and then threw herself out of the office, only just remembering to slam the door behind her. The flurry of her movements caused all the junior analysts on the floor to glance in her direction before returning to their own mountains of grunt work.

She ignored them and began leaping up the stairs, taking three at a time. She ran through corridors and almost crashed right through the locked door between her and her destination.

“Ahh… ahh… Here.” She passed the guard her identification while desperately trying to catch her breath. The guard examined it and then gave her a look of amusement.

“Polina Volkova.” He said, marking her admission in a notebook and opening the door to her. Polina didn’t wait and burst through. Then, conscious of where she was, she forced herself to slow down to a brisk walk as she made her way around the cauldron.

The cauldron was the bureau's centre and shaped like an amphitheatre. The floor's design carried the sound of footsteps throughout the entire space, and no single place was outside the line of sight of at least one standing guard. 

Polina found herself at the right door. She took a few seconds to calm her breathing and mind and then politely knocked on it. Almost immediately, the door opened, and in front of her was someone she had not expected to see.

“Natalia Marakova?” She said, not intending for it to be a question. The neat black-haired operative looked her up and down with an examining gaze.

“Polina Volkova. How long have you been with the bureau?”

“T-three years, ma’am.”

“And you were recently promoted?”

“Yes, senior analyst,  ma’am.”

“Ever been in the field?”

“N-no, ma’am.”

Polina saw Marakova clenching her teeth and sighing through her nose. “Come in,” she said. The office door opened fully, and Polina stepped in, having to duck slightly under Marakova’s arm, which held the top of the door frame. The office was clean and tidy, with leather furniture and a singular desk. This room served only as a conversation area. The actual office lay behind the thick wooden door on the other end of the room.

Behind the desk was a man with a familiar prominent figure, sharp eyes, short hair and a semi-permanent scowl.

“Boris Ivanov,” Polina said in greeting.

“Polina Volkova. Welcome. Would you like a coffee?” Director Ivanov said, gesturing to the equipment on a side table. Polina swallowed reflexively. She was running on little sleep, and coffee beans were getting harder and harder to source these days.

Of course, top brass like Ivanov and Marakova would have their stockpiles.

“Yes, thank you, Director Ivanov.”

“Go on then.”

“Y-yes!” She placed the report on the table between her and Marakova and hurried to the side to grind the beans.

“Senior Volkova, make me one as well. Strong.” Marakova called out to her.

“... same for me,” the gruff voice from the desk said. Polina found a third cup and began the slightly laborious but oddly satisfying task of grinding the beans with a hand grinder. The smell of the rich coffee soon filled the room, an irresistible fragrance that made her mouth water.

“Boris, are these…?” Marakova trailed off.

“Jimari beans. Last batch I could get my hands on before Cascadia stopped exporting coffee to us.”

“How unfair that the demons possess most of the tropical climate where coffee can be grown at scale. Our greenhouse-grown varients taste awful.”

Polina continued preparing the coffee, adding the beans into the small press and adding hot water. The fragrance from the beans was already noticeable, but now the room smelled like a street cafe. The coffee grown in the Southern Terra Firma was not kidding around.

“Do… any of you take sugar?” She asked the room.

“No,” the others replied in unison. Polina poured three cups of the Jimari coffee and then finished hers with two spoonfuls of sugar. She handed the others their cups and then sat with her own opposite Natalia Marakova. As the others seemed content simply enjoying their drinks, she quietly sipped her own, savouring the taste.

After a few minutes of silence, and just as Polina was starting to suspect she had only been summoned so that she could make these two their coffees, Boris Ivanov began speaking.

“Polina Volkova.”

“Yes, Boris Ivanov?”

“We are familiar with each other, but what do you know about Natalia Marakova?” He said, grasping his hands together. It was his sign that it was time for business. Polina placed her cup down.

“Ma’am is the team leader for the group that is responsible for monitoring and tracking the Vengeance.” Polina tilted her head politely at the woman across from her. “Pleasure to meet you in person, ma’am.” Marakova merely gave a small grunt in response.

“Not just the Vengeance,” Director Ivanov said, “They also track its captain, with whom I know you are familiar. Serena Halen, yes?”

“... Yes,” Polina resisted the urge to clench her fists.

“You also applied to join their field team earlier this year and the year prior?”

“That’s right.”

“It was I who rejected you,” Marakova said. “Your personal… dislike of Serena Halen made you unsuitable for fieldwork on my team.” The woman eyed her calmly. Her words had no emotion or bias—pure logic and rationality.

“I… understand.”

“Did you finish reading the report?” Director Ivanov asked.

“Yes, director.”

“And?”

 “Well…” Polina breathed, collecting her thoughts, “If the sheet of graduates in the report is accurate, then there are no church graduates of Aseco with the name Amelia. Therefore, she slipped through the cracks, or the name was false. Her physical description is generic enough to match half the female students in the healing or protection branches.

“It’s unlikely to be a demon illusionist, as the healing was real by the accounts. We can assume she is human. She claimed to be a travelling healer and was under the employment of Serena Halen,” Polina paused, shrugging slightly, “It’s possible. I understand Serena Halen’s personality is that she is quick to anger and reckless. She is also hostile to humans, but not mindlessly, like Korvus Maranai.” 

Marakova nodded at that. “The healer showed no signs of captivity or being forced to be there. The demons have no gods of healing, and Serena Halen is rational enough to take the opportunity to employ a human healer if she finds one that isn’t hostile to demonkind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Polina agreed, “And given that the Vengeances’s stormtroopers, led by Korvus Maranai, tried to assassinate her, it might explain why they fought. It fits their personality profiles… the only thing that doesn’t add up is the healer because she-”

“-survived the assassination,” interrupted Marakova, “Meaning she’s at least second-circle to withstand that level of gunfire. But it gets even more weird. After Korvus and Serena Spoke, the aether release caused dozens of casualties in the square where the soldiers were held. The healer not only survived but then cast a field spell that healed everyone at once!”

“Which would make her a talented third-circle mage,” Polina said, "With a cloaking spell, as she must have had wards running but was not reported as glowing."

“With enormous aether reserves, and if it’s true that she healed a hundred people in a row, that is impossible.” Marakova jabbed a finger onto the table, “The academies only produce a handful of third-circle mages each year, and they are all accounted for. Sure, some healers have gone missing in action on the republican lines, but they don’t match her physical description or capabilities. The church would have already discovered and hoarded a mage that could cast a healing field spell, so they could commune with the First Word.”

An impossible healer who appeared in an impossible situation with impossible capabilities. It was a compelling mystery. 

“The reports of holy lightning attacks shortly after also complicate things further. Their reported size even suggested they may be fourth-circle. What do you make of that, Senior Volkova?”

“Uh… it must be exaggerated. Soldiers typically aren’t exposed to magic higher than the first circle so they often misrepresent the power of minor spells. Furthermore, only two Words - one by Serena Halen and one by Korvus Maranai - were Spoken so it cannot be fourth-circle magic. However, the lightning attacks are consistent with what we know of Aseco, and the blue flecks of light reported when the human healed the soldiers is further evidence of that branch.”

“You can see why we have such a problem,” Director Ivanov interjected, “We have evidence of the impossible. A third-circle Aseco healer that is seemingly as proficient in healing as they are in combat. It takes an enormously long time to become proficient in just one discipline of Aseco, and that’s with all the aid of the church. This woman was reported to look youthful. She should be in her late forties, at a minimum.”

“Not only that,” Marakova continued, “My team tracked the Vengeance in the weeks and months leading up to this event. Not once was there any indication of a human being onboard that ship. We also witnessed no significant tension between Serena Halen and Korvus Maranai. The only thing that explains their behaviour is…” The team leader raised one finger,  “That the captain somehow kept the healer a secret from both us and him, or…” A second finger went up, “The healer somehow boarded the ship after it left the dock out of range of our trackers.”

A thought struck Polina. “Is it possible she’s a church spy? A secret mission from the senior leadership?” As she asked the question, the director and team leader glanced at each other for a moment. After their silent communication ended, Boris spoke up.

“This is a little beyond your pay grade, but just know what information we are receiving from the church high command very much indicates this is as surprising to them as us.”

“Then…” She shrugged. “The puzzle pieces must fit together somehow. We don’t have enough information… Where is the ship now?”.

“We received word it passed the Kenhoro perimeter not long ago,” Marakova said, “The report didn’t go into much detail, but the Vengeance took a hit. It’ll be facing a month of repairs at least.”

“Are we able to get an informant on board? Bribe one of the crew?”

“It won’t work,” Marakova said, shaking her head.

“Are they that loyal to her?” Polina asked.

“They are loyal, but that isn’t the reason. The ship has a guardian on it. An advisor to the captain. A Formless.”

Polina gulped. “So it’s true then, the stories?”

“Yes. He sees and hears everything on the ship, and is sensitive to the intentions of those who board it. You cannot trick him for long. We either have to bribe or capture the crew when they’re on land leave or resort to observing from a distance.”

“I see…” Polina said. “With respect, director, ma’am. It appears my line of thinking has matched your own. I apologise for not being able to come up with anything new.” She tilted her head in apology.

“Head up, Polina Volkova,” Boris said, his frown slightly softening, “You were not brought here for just an opinion. That report - and this conversation - was your briefing.”

“Director?”

“Your blessing has been of great assistance to the bureau on many occasions, and it has been one of the major reasons we’ve kept you behind a desk. You’re too valuable to risk in fieldwork.”

“Ah… thank you, director,” she mumbled.

“However, after this event, I’m under a lot of pressure from my superiors to find out about the nature and origin of this healer.” Polina swallowed. There were not many people ranked higher than the director. He must be under mountains of stress, like her. “Therefore, a decision has been made, against the recommendation of both Natalia Marakova and me, for you to join some of her team members who are setting up a cell in Kenhoro.”

Fieldwork! They were sending her outside the office! Away from paperwork! She would finally be closing in on her nemesis!

“It’s an honour!” Polina exclaimed, feeling a smile erupt on her face. “I won’t disappoint you, director, ma’am!”

“We’ll see…” Marakova mumbled. “We will be leaving tomorrow, circling east and taking the trade winds to Ponan. From there, we’ll travel to Tanhea and then Kenhoro. We’ll cover as a merchant group. You’ll have a new identity. You’ll have to learn much as we go along, so pay attention.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“I mean it,” she raised a finger to make a point, “Half the trackers we send after that ship drop off the face of the continent after a few months. Cascadia has a tremendous interest in that ship, and their own ministry of intelligence has agents working counter-espionage to protect it. There are conditions. Under no circumstances are you to approach Serena Halen if given the opportunity.”

“I understand!” Polina said, trying to extrude the picture of obedience. Inside her mouth, however, she bit her cheeks. Would she be able to resist, to stop herself?

“Secondly, under no circumstances are you to board the ship. We are there to observe and gather intelligence, not to infiltrate the crew. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Polina nodded.

“Very well, Polina Volkova,” Director Ivanov said, “Return to your office. Delegate your remaining work to the juniors. Natalia Marakova will collect you at the end of the day.”

“Yes! Thank you for the opportunity!” Polina stood up, and with a final expression of gratitude, she left the office. Walking back to her office, she couldn’t resist humming.

Her blessing had finally come through, giving her the opportunity she needed to get close to Serena Halen. She had begun to resent it, thinking it was too valuable for them to ever let her do fieldwork. This event had changed everything, and now the need for intelligence tipped the scale in her favour.

Thank the gods for blessings!

Not just the one she had shared with the director.

The other one, too.

The one she had never told anyone about.

The one she would use to kill Serena Halen.

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