Free Eve of Destruction by C.E. Stalbaum Page A

as anyone. The Fane was suffering, and it went beyond the morning smog and perpetual ash on the breeze.  The damage was subtle, but he could feel it every time he wove a spell. It was getting harder and harder to draw enough power to maintain his illusions, almost as if the Fane was trying to starve him out. His magi employees that did most of the work these days were starting to complain about it, and as a rule their skills and senses were considerably less attuned than his. As factories supplanted living things, bit by bit it felt like the Fane was starting to recede. Eventually, maybe in his lifetime, it would be gone, and he didn’t want to know what would happen then.
    “We’re staying, one way or another,” he murmured after a few moments. “All is not lost. Not yet.”
    Aram followed his gaze to the streets below. “It’s only a matter of time before the Dusties turn on you.”
    “Well, that’s why I have you here.”
    “I’m serious.”
    “So was I,” Danev said flatly, then sighed. “I need to go over some client lists before it gets too late. Come on.”
    He popped his white hat back on and headed downstairs, Aram silently in tow. Before they reached his office, one of his attendants nervously flagged him down.
    “Mr. Danev, sir, there’s a woman here who wants to speak with you.”
    “Client?”
    “No, sir. She’s never been here before, and she has a man with her.”
    “Perhaps he didn’t read the sign,” Aram grunted.
    “She claims you knew her mother, Tara DeShane,” the attendant said.
    Danev froze. “Tara…”
    Aram cocked an eyebrow. “Is that who I think it is?”
    “Send her in, Emily,” Danev instructed.
    The woman nodded and quickly left. Aram maintained his expectant stare.
    “Ghost from the past?” the bodyguard pressed.
    “You could say that,” Danev murmured as the memories slowly trudged to the surface. “Goddess, I haven’t seen Tara since…well, since long before I opened this place.”
    “Curious,” Aram replied neutrally. “I’ll stay close just in case.”
    A second later he vanished, but Danev wasn’t really paying attention. Tara DeShane…his thoughts flickered back to Valmeri, to a time in his life when everything had seemed so perfect and simple. Then it had all shattered around them, and he had spent every day since trying to tiptoe around the pieces.
    A minute later a young woman walked in, followed by a rugged-looking man the same age. Even if Danev hadn’t been told she was Tara’s daughter, he would have instantly known. Her brown hair, amber eyes, and pale skin made his memories all the more vivid.
    “You must be Evelyn,” he greeted, quickly composing himself and taking a half bow before her. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
    “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Danev,” she said politely. “This is my friend, Zach. I generally go by Eve.”
    “A pleasure to meet both of you. Can I get you anything?”
    “Nothing for me, thank you again.”
    The young man was still gaping at the tapestries along the wall. “Are these Rethulo?”
    Danev blinked. While he liked to do his best to make even the mundane decorations in here cater to a certain upscale clientele, he doubted more than a small handful could actually identify such an obscure artist. “Yes, actually.”
    The young man nodded. “I was stationed in Sandratha for three months. There was actually a museum only a few kilometers from the base, and they liked to show off his work. These are much earlier pieces, though, and I think they’re better.”
    “A fine eye,” Danev said, and meant it. He sat down and gestured for them to join him. “So I have to say, I’m a bit puzzled why you might be here, my dear. Were you on a romantic getaway and recalled your mother dropping my name?”
    Her smile vanished, and Danev wondered if he might have embarrassed her. But as her eyes lowered and her hands clutched together, he understood it was worse. Much worse.
    “She’s dead, Mr.