Chapter 21: Only a Matter of Time

With Arlo having gone to bed, Quint was left alone with his thoughts. The last of the sunlight had long since faded away into night, and all the candles had burned down. The only illumination in the small dwelling was the low burning fire in the hearth. The warm light cast shadows all around the room, but his eyes remained on the flickering flames, thinking about what Arlo had said to him.

If these days are going to be your last, do you want to spend them alone on the run or with the people who matter?

The perspective his mentor had to offer went against everything his instincts were telling him to do. Arlo had once touted a life of solitude during his service with the Order of Whispers, so this sudden change in opinion came as quite a surprise. He didn’t know what to do. He had valued his mentor’s advice over the years, but what he was saying now contradicted years of advice he had given Quint.

He let out a heavy sigh and bowed his head. Logically, he knew if he ran, it would keep an additional threat away from Nienna and others. But if he did run, he couldn’t help Nienna and the others if they needed him. Would they need him?  Uncertainty clouded his thoughts. He never imagined he would feel so lost after years filled with the life experiences he had and the lessons he learned. But Arlo had never steered him wrong. His advice in service had always proved beneficial, but he wasn’t in service anymore. The old man may have grown sentimental in his retirement from the Order, but maybe he was right. Quint missed the others; he couldn’t deny that.

A deep yawn signaled it was time to sleep, so Quint used the iron poker to separate the last of the burning pieces of wood so they could burn down to ash. Upon replacing it in its resting place against the hearth, he heard a rustling outside the window. As if on reflex, he reached for the pot of sand Arlo kept next to the hearth and poured its contents over the last of the embers, extinguishing any light left. As his eyes adjusted, Quint silently moved toward the window, keeping just to the side of it. He peered out the pane of glass just as a shadow sped by his narrow field of vision. He pulled away, keeping his back against the wall as his training kicked in. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Order sent someone after him. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Reaching for his walking stick, he uttered a soft whistle to Michi, the drake lazily lifted her head and parted her jaws, her forked tongue flicking about. “Stay low. Someone’s coming,” he whispered as he motioned to the chair. He waited for her to take cover behind the piece of furniture before he quietly shuffled toward the corner of the room between the window and door. It was shrouded in shadow and would work nicely.

Quint considered waking Arlo, but he then heard shuffling just outside the door. There was no time to get to him. Holding his walking staff to his chest, he leaned back against the walls, shrouding himself in shadow, hoping to give himself the element of surprise.  He didn’t know for sure how many were out there, but he highly doubted the Order would send just one agent after him. The soft metallic sounds of a lockpick working its way through the tumblers felt almost deafening in the silence inside the home. The lock clicked open and the knob slowly started to turn. Quint tightened his hold on his walking stick and waited for the door open.

Two figures slipped into the room, and Quint leapt into action. The intruders hadn’t seen Quint until he emerged from the shadows, giving him the element of surprise. He thrust the end of his walking stick at the first one, connecting with them in the side and knocking them off balance. Quint immediately swung the stick upward at the second intruder, connecting with their sword and sending the weapon sailing through the air toward the kitchen. The first intruder recovered and reached for him. Quint moved to parry their attack, but the second intruder landed a kick against his back, sending him colliding with the floor.

“You’re getting slow, old man.”

Larkin Hayes stepped through the doorway into the small dwelling, joining the two other agents. He pulled his hood back and glared at Quint. “I’ve been charged with bringing you in. There was no specification on the condition in which you arrive, but I have been given a termination order should you cause me too much trouble.”

With a groan, Quint rolled over onto his back and sat up. “I figured it was just a matter of time before Halvora sent someone. I just didn’t think it would this soon, and I didn’t think it would be you.”

“I didn’t think it would be me either, but she knows who to trust when something needs to get done,” Larkin replied with a smirk. He nodded to the two other agents, and they each grabbed one of Quint’s arms, roughly hauling him to his feet.

He fought their hold, and yanked his arms free from the two agents who then promptly thrust the point of their blades at his neck. He didn’t flinch and for the moment would comply. Besides, he knew if they intended to kill him immediately, they would have already. He studied the two agents at his side to see if he recognized either one, but between the dark and their covered faces, he couldn’t fully identify them.

“This is ridiculous,” Quint began, turning his attention back to Larkin. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Tyria’s safety.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m just following orders.”

“Of course, you are,” Quint mocked with a strained chuckle. He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair to move it out of his eyes. “You’ve always been good at that.”

Larkin scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but something caught his attention, and he sharply turned toward the dark entryway near the kitchen. His fingers gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, the agent pulled it from its holster on his belt, barely making any sound as he did so. Quint nonchalantly followed his gaze, knowing Arlo was back there in his room somewhere, unless the wily old man had snuck out during the commotion. Considering how focused Larkin was on that entryway, Quint felt there were fair odds he was still down there; he had never been one to back down from a fight.

Suddenly leaping from the shadows, Arlo emerged with his staff in hand. He thrust the end at Larkin, and the two locked in close-quarters battle, trading strikes and blows. Quint went to move in to help with the fight, but the two agents at his side grabbed Quint’s arms, restraining him. Arlo was quick for his age, but he and his ancient wood staff were no match for Larkin. Quint noticed his mentor was dropping his shoulder too low when he blocked, leaving too wide of an opening for a hit. He called out to warn him, but Larkin had already picked up on this detail and took advantage with his next advance. He thrust the point of his sword deep into Arlo’s shoulder, eliciting a pained cry from the old man.

Quint let out a sharp whistle, and Michi tore out from her hiding place behind the chair. Her massive jaws parted and she let out a hiss as she swiped at Larkin with her front claws. But the effort was too late. Arlo had dropped another block, and Larkin sunk his blade deep into the old man’s gut. With a gasp, he doubled over, dropping his staff and clutching his wound as his face twisted in pain. Larkin pulled his blade free before the old man fell to the ground and then thrust his foot against Michi’s jaws as she advanced to bite. The drake stumbled back, stunned, but shook it off and spun sharply to whip him with her tail. She caught Larkin by the leg and knocked him off his feet.

In a flurry of anger, Quint stomped down on the agent’s foot to his right and after wrenching his arm free, landed a punch against his nose, breaking it. He then quickly spun around and dodged a punch from the other agent before thrusting his fist against their side. Once free, Quint rushed to the hearth and snatched up the iron poker. As soon as he had the tool in hand, something gripped the back of his tunic and pulled hard. He haphazardly spun around and felt something hard connect with his cheek. Stars filled his vision for a moment, but he swung the poker in front of him as hard as he could, and the tool collided with the first agent’s face with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, clutching their face. Quint lunged at the second agent who was ready for him with his short sword drawn. They raised it to strike, but Quint ducked out of the way and thrust the poker into the agent’s lower side. They cried out in pain as they mustered enough energy for one more strike, but before they brought the blade down, Quint pulled the poker from their side and pushed them over with his foot.

A high-pitch screech erupted in the home as Michi parted her jaws and let out a sonic shriek. Quint looked over to find Larkin, who had recovered from the drake’s tail whip, stumbling back and gripping his head. On the floor, Arlo reached out for his staff while still clutching his mortal wound with his other hand. But the weapon was just out of reach and the strain seemed to be too much for him considering his current state. Quint rushed toward his mentor, but he only got a few steps before a shot rang out behind him, and Quint felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but he didn’t lose his grip on the poker. He turned from Larkin and angrily swung the poker at the first agent before they could line up another shot. The poker collided with their neck this time. Something cracked, and they gurgled as they went down hard to the floor. They did not get up again.

“Should have known you’d give me trouble,” Larkin growled as he thrust his sword at Quint.

Catching the motion out of the corner of his eye, Quint swung the poker around, but the pain searing throughout his shoulder slowed him down, and he was not quick enough to entirely block the strike. Larkin’s blade sliced along his side. Quint gasped and tried to turn around, but the sudden shock of having sustained two wounds knocked his world off-kilter. He stumbled to his knees, angry at Larkin for hurting his mentor and angry at himself for not being strong enough to save him. Breathing hard, he looked up at Larkin and wished he could wipe the man’s prideful look off his face.

“It pains me to have to do this, truly,” Larkin said, his blade primed at Quint’s throat.

“Truly,” Quint scoffed. “I bet it really stung taking the assignment to hunt one of your own.”

Larkin frowned, rotating the tip of his sword in a tight circle at Quint’s throat. “You’re not one of us. Not anymore.  Doesn’t matter. Any last words before I kill you and drag your corpse back to Halvora?”

“No, but he might have something to say,” Quint said as he nodded in Arlo’s direction just as the old man thrust the end of his staff in Larkin’s side.

The attack distracted Larkin, and his gaze swept away just long enough to allow Quint to thrust the iron poker into his abdomen. He pushed in deep, sinking and twisting the tool, tearing the puncture wound open wider before pulling it free. Larkin’s face twisted in surprise and then pain as he stumbled backward, blood soaking his tunic and vest. He placed a hand over his stomach, and blood seeped between his fingers, trickling down the rest of his body and pooling on the floor.

“It—it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Larkin gurgled as he crumpled over onto the floor. His chest rose and fell one last time before growing still.

With the threat gone, Quint dropped the iron poker and scrambled across the floor to Arlo who now lay on his back. Every movement he made elicited physical pain which hurt like hell, but he knew he would live. He pushed his mentor’s staff aside and sat down next to Arlo, watching his chest rise and fall shallowly. The wound in his gut was too deep, and he had lost too much blood. The old man looked up, and in the short distance between them, Quint could sense his fear. Arlo parted his lips and tried to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he weakly raised his hand and Quint took it, squeezing it reassuringly as the old man took his last breaths. Quietly, he sat with him, holding his hand and listening to his shallow breathing until it eventually ceased.

Michi circled Arlo, sniffing at his lifeless body and uttering a distressed whine before nudging Quint’s back as she circled him. He patted the drake and then reached into his trouser pocket, his wounds radiating pain in his shoulder and side. He pulled out the device Danae had given him before they parted. Despite a few scratches, it was still in one piece. He looked back over at Arlo and wiped at the tears forming in his eyes. Arlo had given his life to save his, and in his time of passing, had reached out to Quint. In the end, his mentor didn’t want to be alone, and now Quint knew when his time came, he didn’t want to be alone either.

Gently, Quint placed both of Arlo’s hands on his chest, gave a moment of silence and thanks for the man who had been a guiding hand in his life, and then pressed the beacon's button.