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  The Last Day of Magnus Gariq

  An Airwoman Companion Story

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  The first order of business was death. His own death.

  Magnus Gariq is the CEO of the largest cross-portal trading company on Taraqa. He is married to the love of his life, with a beautiful daughter, Jade, and twin sons. Life is good.

  Until he gets a surprise package that changes everything.

  The Last Day of Magnus Gariq is an Airwoman companion short story. If you like being immersed in intriguing worlds with surprising characters, then you’ll love Zara Quentin’s tale of honour, lies, betrayal and death.

  Contents

  Map of Taraqa

  Map of Premye

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  The Last Day of Magnus Gariq

  A Note from Zara

  Acknowledgments

  Sneak Peek at SpiritWoman…

  Also by Zara Quentin

  Connect with Zara

  About Zara Quentin

  Copyright © 2016 Zara Quentin

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9954048-0-9 (Paperback)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9954048-2-3 (ePub)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9954048-1-6 (Kindle)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  This book is written in Australian English

  For my family,

  who is always ready for

  an adventure.

  1

  Jade beat her wings once, twice—powerful strokes that harnessed the wind streaming over her like water—then stretched them wide to circle into a warm updraft. She laughed as a gust of air pushed her upwards. Then she flicked her tail to spin into a roll, making the blue sky and red earth blur and tumble. Righting herself, she spread out her arms and turned her face to the sun, enjoying the warmth of the morning sunlight on her skin.

  This was freedom.

  It only lasted a moment before she looked down on Ingresston, her cliffside-city home. At the sight of it, Jade started sinking, the weight of her heart dragging her down, tethered by her responsibilities in the Taraqan capital.

  Jade sighed as she descended. From above, the clifftop Temple was in full view, with the gilded-gold statue of their Dragon-God, Our Lady Taraqa, towering over it. The statue looked out towards Mt. Reve, the volcano that loomed against the horizon of the Western Sea, as though keeping watch. Jade drank in the magnificent view: the statue of Our Lady stood tall on Her hind legs, Her front feet resting on the top tier of the ziggurat Temple. The rising sun outlined Her outstretched wings and Her head like a halo of rose-gold light. Jade longed to see the Dragonverse, but she never tired of this early morning view.

  She continued her descending spirals towards the markets sprawled between the Temple and the cliff’s edge.

  A wisp of smoke curled up from Our Lady’s nostrils, drifting upward into the churning grey clouds that marked the Portal. The clouds contrasted starkly with the bright blue sky that stretched to the horizon in every direction. Jade gave the Portal airspace a wide berth; not only were the currents unpredictable, but it was against the law to interfere with the passage of Travellers into and out of the Portal. Still, Jade’s chest swelled with yearning at the sight of those clouds and, as always, she forced her gaze away, denying the temptation to pass through the Portal and disappear.

  Instead, she swept her long, slender tail around to angle her effortless glide down towards the colourful tents of the marketplace outside the western entrance of the Temple. The Temple was the conduit for cross-Portal trade, but the marketplace was where Taraqans sourced everyday goods.

  Jade’s bare feet touched down on the red dirt and she folded her almost translucent wings at her back, the jade-green scales decorating the bone structure in her wings, glinted in the sunlight. The salty sea breeze rustled a blue sheet of canvas stretched over four poles, sheltering a table of baked goods from the hot Taraqan sun. It was early, but the market bustled with activity.

  Jade ran a hand through her short, wavy hair, wincing slightly as her fingers jagged in the knots. Usually she tied it back, but it was only a short flight from her family home in the cliffs, and she planned to spend the rest of the day in the Temple.

  Jade walked towards the enormous arched entrance to the Temple, ducking under canvas shading, weaving past rough-hewn tables laden with eggs, cheeses, coloured swatches of woven cloth, dried meats, pickles and plenty of other goods. The air rang with merchants hawking their wares, live chickens squawking, and people haggling over prices. She smelt a strong whiff of fish, as a hand clapped her on the shoulder.

  “Jade!”

  A sun-browned fishmonger from The Claw greeted her, but his eyes flicked to either side of her, looking for someone else.

  “Papa’s not here today,” Jade said, taking a moment to remember his name—Davron.

  “Given you the keys to the kingdom, has he?” Davron winked and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  Jade remembered the Porter who had unexpectedly arrived on their landing that morning with an urgent delivery for her father. Papa had opened the small package and turned it over in his hands. To Jade’s surprise, he’d then given her terse instructions for the day. For the first time since she’d started her apprenticeship in the family business, he wouldn’t be accompanying her to the Temple. Instead, he’d disappeared without any explanation.

  “He’s got urgent business elsewhere, so I’m taking care of a few things for him. Nothing major.” Jade shrugged her shoulders as though this was commonplace, but the flush that rose to her cheeks exposed the lie. Davron knew, as did everyone else in Ingresston, that she was Magnus Gariq’s daughter and unofficial heir to Gariq Industries, the largest cross-Portal acquisitions and trading company on Taraqa. She was being trained to take over the company, but her apprenticeship was in its infancy and mostly all she did was accompany her father. This was her first taste of real responsibility.

  Davron pointed to a large silver blue fish hanging on a hook. “I’ve got this beauty earmarked for him. Fresh and delicious.”

  Jade shook her head. “I’m not buying.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, then.” Davron shrugged, then waved her along. “Give my respects to Magnus.”

  Jade moved out from under the market’s patchwork of canvas. She squinted up at the Temple towering over her. Its white stone levels—almost blinding in the morning sunlight—stepped up to the top where the gold statue of Our Lady rested. Above Our Lady, a tiny figure appeared, a smudge against the grey clouds. Wings spread, the Traveller spiralled downwards, past Our Lady’s head until the walls of the Temple obscured him.

  As always, when Jade saw a Traveller moving into or out of the Portal, she closed her hand ove
r the pendants that hung from her neck chain. They were her charms—tokens from other worlds—gifted to her from others who had made the journey and returned. Among her favourites were a sphinx-wing from Deena, a leaf from the carnivorous trees on Linith, and a tailbone of a myr—a sea creature from Merryne. All were reminders of the adventures she dreamed of.

  Longing thrummed in her chest as her fingers found a pendant inlaid with a blue-green opal and moulded into the shape of a strange Earthen animal.

  Kangaroo… Jade heard the echo of her older brother, Basalt’s words when he’d given it to her. Supposedly it can’t go backwards.

  Her chest tightened, aching both for the brother lost, and for adventures she dreamed of, but could not have.

  The edge of the kangaroo pendant dug into the flesh of her palm as another Traveller emerged from the Portal clouds. This time, Jade forced her eyes away, let go of her neck chain and squared her shoulders. Then she marched through the arched entrance to the Temple.

  Jade stepped through the stone arch and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

  She turned right, mentally reciting Papa’s instructions, as she’d done since she’d left home, desperate not to forget anything. With every step, Papa’s voice rang through her mind.

  First, visit the office of taxation, submit the auction report and pay the taxes. Deposit our donation to the Temple.

  Gold Chips jingled inside the small sack slung across her chest as Jade padded softly along the Outer Ring, the hallway around the outer wall of the Temple.

  Visit the Mail Room and collect any messages that have come through the Portal since yesterday.

  Jade took a left into a small passage linking through to the Inner Ring, heading towards the Mail Room. She smiled—her latest edition of Traveller Monthly magazine might have arrived by now—then pushed the thought aside to concentrate on Papa’s list.

  Visit the Office for Trade and deposit the list of acquisitions being submitted to auction, along with our declarations that all items were lawfully acquired and don’t violate rules around cross-world significance.

  Jade turned into the Inner Ring, trailing her fingers along the wall, the rough stone cool under her fingertips.

  Lastly, take the auction list to the Air Marshall.

  This task wasn’t required by Taraqan law, but the Lord Protector, Air Marshall Scosse, was one of Papa’s old friends from his days in the Traveller Force. The gesture was a sign of respect for their leader. Cultivating such relationships, Papa always said, was one of the reasons Gariq Industries had grown into such a large and well-respected company.

  Scosse’s office and private chapel were located on the top floor of the Temple, so it was convenient for Jade to pay him a visit, but the thought of this task made her stomach tumble over itself. She was not as easy with people as her father and this last task was her least favourite.

  She stopped outside the Mail Room, next to the archway to Our Lady’s Court, the courtyard that rose up through the middle of the Temple in an open column toward the Portal clouds above.

  Jade paused under the arch. The morning sunlight crept down the western wall, but the courtyard was still cast in shade. Several Travellers, clad in black uniforms, circled down before landing on the mosaic-tiled floor. One returning Traveller raised a hand to another, who slapped it with a grin. The departing Traveller spread her wings and leapt into the air to spiral up towards the Portal. She rose until she passed Our Lady’s snout, then pressed a hand to it, as all outgoing Travellers did—for luck and safe return—before making for the Portal.

  Jade squeezed up against the stone wall, as a broad set Traveller pushed past her, the rough material of his uniform like sandpaper against her arm. A scar ran across his right jaw and he was missing part of his ear. A green stripe on his left shirt sleeve denoted him as a Porter—one of an elite group within the Traveller Force, that couriered not only messages and objects, but also non-winged creatures through the dangerous place between worlds: the Betwixt. With the reputation for being brave to the point of fearless, Porters risked death flying through the Betwixt day after day. Regular Travellers spent a week or more off-world before making the return journey.

  Jade fell in behind the Porter as he entered the Mail Room.

  After emptying the company mailbox of a number of routine messages, Jade checked the Gariq family’s private mailbox, to find a few messages along with her regular magazine. Jade tucked the messages into her bag without looking at them and stared wistfully at the cover of her magazine—a glossy picture of hundreds of floating spheres, tiny Fey bubble-houses, hovering above the steep gorges of Corinth. On the back cover was an advertisement for the new suspension resort built across the spectacular fire-crystal valley on Adillique. She sighed—the magazine would have to wait. She had too many other things to do.

  Jade walked briskly toward the Tax Office. Situated on the eastern side of the Temple, next to the Office of Portal Records, Jade passed several government offices along the empty hallway of the Inner Ring. She was about to round the corner, when she heard a familiar voice.

  “…serious! The repercussions will be disastrous…”

  Jade stopped abruptly, recognising the speaker—Papa. What was he doing here? He’d told her he wasn’t coming to the Temple today.

  She heard another voice, quiet and muffled: “…worth…imagine the value…once in a lifetime…”

  Jade turned, straining to hear, wondering which office the voices were coming from. She heard Papa’s voice again; stern and afraid. “…I must insist. Lives will be lost over this. Taraqan lives. You must return it…”

  Her curiosity drove her a step closer to a slightly ajar door. A hand grabbed her shoulder.

  2

  “Hey, dreamer!” A hand waved in her face.

  Jade blinked. It was her best friend, Kyssa.

  “Are you back with us now?” Kyssa grinned. Her black hair was shaved, the way most Travellers wore it, and it accentuated the angles of her cheek bones. “So, are you welcoming me back on-world or running errands for Gariq Industries?”

  Jade smiled back. “I’m representing Papa today. He’s busy.”

  Kyssa’s eyes widened. “Wow—cool.”

  Jade stood straighter, enjoying the flash of envy in her friend’s eyes. Then Kyssa shifted her silver scaled wings and straightened her black shirt. Jade’s chest tightened at the sight of Traveller garb.

  “Where have you been?” Jade heard the longing in her own voice.

  “Patrolling the Serysse Portal,” Kyssa said.

  “Why?”

  “There were rumours that Serysse is starting to regenerate, so a guard was sent to investigate. No trading traffic, obviously.” Kyssa looked sideways at her with a wink. “No action this time.”

  Jade laughed. Knowing how much Kyssa enjoyed active duty, it would have been a chore. “Any other news?”

  Kyssa raised an eyebrow. “Are you curious or seeking intel for Magnus?” she asked, as she jabbed a finger into Jade’s ribs, then winked. Jade let out a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a laugh, then instinctively stepped backwards and held her hands up to protect the ticklish spot she’d had since she was a child. Kyssa had loved to tickle her back then and still exploited her weak spot now and again.

  “A question from your best friend!” Jade retorted, a broad smile on her face. “Though there could be a Chip in it for you.” Jade jingled the sack slung across her chest. “If you’ve got anything interesting.”

  Technically, the Traveller Force reported to the Lord Protector via the Air Vice Marshall, who was the actual head of the military. However, the lines between iconic Taraqan companies, like Gariq Industries, and the military were blurred. All Taraqans served in the Traveller Force for at least two years before either choosing to stay and make a career, or leave and pursue other work, so it was no surprise that the leaders of the military, the company and the government were woven together through history, friendship and common interes
t. Even at the lower levels, many Travellers worked for private companies on the side to supplement their income.

  A Chip was little more than pocket money, but it would buy Kyssa’s unit a round of drinks at the local tavern. Jade fished around in her coin purse for the Chip and when Kyssa closed her hand around it, she winked again.

  “There’s talk from other units about increased activity in the Betwixt. I’ve seen Yrax each time I’ve been through, lately. Only at a distance, but it was enough to give me the creeps.”

  Jade shivered at the mention of the beasts that inhabited the Betwixt, the stuff of children’s nightmares. Taraqan children were warned by their parents to be good or they would be fed to the Yrax.

  “Also, the Merrynese are making a formal complaint about the new resort development. They’re threatening trade relations.”

  “Aren’t they always?” Jade rolled her eyes. “That won’t be news to Papa.”

  Kyssa stiffened, as though Jade had slighted her. Then she casually ran her fingers along the badge sewn above her left breast pocket, which read: Flying Officer. As if Jade didn’t already know she’d been promoted. It was common knowledge that Kyssa was considered a future leader in the Traveller Force. Jade wondered if it was a subtle jab at Jade for not having served.