Calamity (Reckoners, #3)

As a group, without needing to say a word, we turned and walked the other way. “Epic stronghold,” Cody guessed. “Someone Prof has already subdued, or a neutral party?”


“That’s probably Loophole’s place,” Abraham said, thoughtful. “She was always one of the most powerful Epics in the city.”

“Size-manipulation powers, right?” I asked.

Abraham nodded. “Don’t know how she fell into the conflict between Prof and Larcener.”

“Look into it,” I told him. But this raised another issue. “We might want a plan to deal with Larcener. I don’t want to get so focused on Prof that we ignore the turf war in Ildithia.”

“Well,” Mizzy said, “if only we had access to someone with a freakishly large repository of knowledge about Epics, and who can’t help but tell us about them. Like, all the time.”

“Well, it is my thang.”

“What did I tell you about that word, David?”

I smiled. “Larcener. By all reports, he was a teenager when Calamity rose—maybe even a kid. One of the youngest High Epics, he’s probably in his early twenties right now. He’s tall, with dark hair and pale skin; I’ll send a photo to your mobiles when we get back. I have a couple good shots of him in my notes.

“He steals powers, and keeps them. All he has to do is touch someone, and he can take their powers. One of the reasons he’s so dangerous is that it’s impossible to tell what abilities he has, as he has likely never manifested them all. Prime invincibilities include danger sense, impervious skin, regeneration, and now the ability to project his consciousness and powers into a fake body.”

Cody let out a long, soft whistle. “That’s…quite the list.”

“He can also fly, transform objects to salt, manipulate heat and cold, conjure objects at will, and put people to sleep with a touch,” I added. “By all accounts, he’s also incredibly lazy. He could be the most dangerous Epic alive—but he doesn’t seem to care. He stays here, rules Ildithia, and doesn’t bother others unless he has to.”

“His weakness?” Megan said.

“I’ve got no idea,” I replied as we reached the edge of town. “Everything I know about him is limited to a few widely accepted—but far too general—reports. He’s lazy, which we can probably use. He also is reportedly slow to steal new powers; he finds it easier to let Epics who serve him keep their abilities, since they can do the hard work for him. It’s said he hasn’t taken a new power in years, which was why I was surprised to find he’d absorbed Dead Drop’s abilities.”

Abraham grunted. “I’d still rather have an idea of his weakness.”

“Agreed,” I said. “We should do some intel gathering. Today, if possible. I’d rather not fight Larcener if we can avoid it, but I’d like to have a plan anyway.”

We walked on, passing buildings that were still growing stumps. They kind of looked like teeth. Giant, lumpy teeth. Beyond those, people worked the fields. Conflicts between Epics in the city didn’t change the workers’ routine: harvest the grain, give it to whoever ended up in charge. Avoid starving.

The others gave me confused looks as I settled in here to wait, checking my mobile.

You sure it’s today? I typed.

The delivery? Knighthawk asked. That’s what the mobiles said. I don’t know why they’d lie.

Sure enough, a caravan of trucks soon approached, laden with goods ordered from UTC’s trading network. I wasn’t certain if Terms herself would be in attendance and—though it pained me, since I wanted to see her powers work—I knew I probably shouldn’t try to catch a glimpse. I did, however, spot the same overseer from a few days ago, when we’d first entered.

“All right,” I said to the team. “I figure this is as good a place as any to get some information. We need intel on Larcener, if we’re going to have any shot at guessing his weakness. Go do what it is you do best.”

“Make stuff up?” Cody asked, rubbing his chin.

“So you admit it!” Mizzy said, pointing at him.

“Course I admit it, lass. I have seven PhDs. That kind of time spent learning makes a fellow very self-aware.” He hesitated. “Course, all seven are in Scottish literature and culture, from different schools. A lad’s got to be thorough in his approach to his expertise, you see.”

I shook my head, approaching the overseer. We wore different faces now, but the man didn’t care. He put us to work as easily as he had before, hauling crates from the UTC shipment. The team spread out, engaging the other workers, listening to gossip. I managed to get myself assigned to unloading crates from one of the trucks.

“This is a good place for intel,” Abraham said to me softly as he stepped up to get a crate. “But I can’t help thinking you have an ulterior motive, David. What are you up to?”

I smiled, slid the broken mobile from my pocket, and wrapped it in a dark cloth. I picked a specific crate, then wedged the slim mobile between the slats in the wood near one of the corners. As I’d hoped, it was practically invisible in there.