Agent of the Sway: Departure - Part Nine

     They found more activity than they were expecting in the royal gardens at the heart of the castle.

     There were Sway agents there, more than Clayton had ever seen in one place, and certainly more than he had thought were in the area.

     And there, at the heart of them all, was the Duchess. She held out her hand, and Knight deposited the ring of the deep into it.

     "Excellent work, gentlemen," she said, turning to face the fruit of labours for the remaining agents.

     It was the statue of the Darkest Faerie, now rigged up with magical artefacts designed to teleport it away.

     "You're taking the Darkest Faerie?" Clayton asked.

     "Of course," the Duchess said. "We have plans for her, Agent Rook. And, if nothing else, her sudden disappearance might deflect Lady Falmouth from investigating us. It worked once before."

     "We weren't told about this," Clayton said.

     "You didn't need to be," she replied. "You had your own task."

     She nodded to the nearest Sway agent, who began the process. The statue, and all of the other agents bar Knight and the Duchess herself, teleported away.

     "You gave me your word no one would be harmed," Clayton said. "Nox is dead, and there were people living on the Endless Plains."

     "Acceptable damage," the Duchess replied.

     "You gave me your word!" Clayton said.

     The Duchess gave a little sigh.

     "What is it you want, Agent Rook?" she asked. "An apology? For me to wave a wand and make it alright? You knew what you were getting into when you joined us. The Sway are involved in dirty business."

     "I'm not your agent any more," Clayton growled.

     The Duchess was silent for a moment.

     "You intend to leave our company?" she asked. "You saw Lord Faversham's end. You know what happens to agents who go rogue - it doesn't end well."

     "Then consider me the exception to the rule," Clayton said. "I won't serve any longer."

     "It is not a matter of choice," the Duchess stated. "Agents of the Sway do not retire, they do not step down. Once you are one of us, you are always one of us. There's only one way out of the Sway - death."

     "And you'll do that here, will you?" Clayton asked. "I'm former Thieves Guild material, I can outrun you both."

     "But you cannot outrun the Sway, Agent Rook," the Duchess replied. "You will be dogged for the rest of your days. Pursued to the very ends of Neopia and beyond if needs be. You will not have a moment's rest. And no matter how far you run, or for how long, you will not escape us. You will be found, and you will pay the price of betrayal."

     "Then I had better get a head start," Clayton said.

     He turned and ran. Knight was already moving, but as Clayton had said, the Kougra was faster. Clayton was already bounding over the rubble while Knight stumbled in his wake.

     The Duchess, however, didn't even bother to give chase. She turned her attention back to the main square in Faerie City, where Xandra had been talking to Hanso and Brynn. She cursed under her breath - the talk with Clayton had taken her attention away from the plan. Xandra was about to be defeated by the pair - the Faeries would soon return to full health.

     She whispered a few magic words, and teleported away to safety.

     ***

     The aftermath of the battle with the Wraiths was not a pretty sight.

     Xandra had fallen, petrified when the magic she had cast rebounded on her. The effect had freed those who had previously been cursed by her magic. The Faeries were liberated, and the refugees on the Shenkuu ships were now returning.

     King Altador and his allies had also been freed, and they were all returning to their own lands - though Altador's forces would be lighter. Commander Flint had stepped down, too outraged by the battle to serve under King Altador any longer.

     And there, in the headquarters of the Order of the Red Erisim, they were having a meeting.

     The current head, the crusty old Ogrin known as Alshemar, began the meeting.

     "Xandra has fallen," he said. "Queen Fyora's messenger informs me that her petrified form has been imprisoned in the Faerieland dungeons. She hopes, with time, the sorceress may be rehabilitated, but regardless, she will remain under arrest."

     "Good riddance!" a Bruce witch shouted.

     "Neopia is saved!" a Mynci added.

     "Mumble mumble..." a Tonu said from beneath his beard.

     "Belisarius is correct," Alshemar said with a nod to the Tonu. "Neopia cannot ever truly be saved while individuals such as Xandra exist. She was not the first, and she will not be the last. We should not forget that it was one of our own number, Quizara, who led the last assault on Faerieland. There is power in Neopia. Raw, untamed power. It needs a force to regulate it, to make sure those who wield the power do so with justice in mind and not malice. That was the purpose for which this institution was originally founded. But we have lost our way."

     There were outcries of shouting from enraged wizards. Alshemar clapped his hands with magical force, returning the silence.

     "Protest all you wish, it is the truth," he said. "And I am as much at fault as the rest of you. Quizara's Question Curse was stolen from under my nose without me even realising. All of us spend our time isolated in our own towers, conducting our own research. We rarely talk, and even when we do we rarely act. Our power has become our undoing. We must change that. We must police that which cannot be defined once more. And for that reason, I am stepping down from my position as head of the Order."

     Shock rippled around the table. Belisarius broke the fresh round of silence.

     "Mumble mumble?"

     "A good question," Alshemar said. "Though of course there must be an official election for my replacement, I have a candidate in mind. Most of us cannot claim to have been born in the last century, never mind this one. We are so very old and out of touch. If we are to counter the magical threats of this new age, we will need fresh, young blood to guide us. I would suggest my apprentice, Rasala of Terror Mountain."

     The young pink Bori stepped into the circle of firelight round the table and bowed low.

     It was an idea that did not meet with immediate approval. But it was clear that everyone around the table knew things had to change. And it wasn't as if they had any better ideas.

     ***

     Clayton knew the operational style of the Sway very well. Too well. He knew the last place they would expect to find him was in the very place he'd just run from. He'd never left Faerieland, staying hidden in the ruins while Knight had run off into the Haunted Woods.

     The Duchess had been right, though. There would be no rest for Clayton while he was on the run. Every Sway agent in the world would be mobilised against him, and a network of informants larger than the population of some countries would track his every move. Old friends would be monitored, so he would have no hope of gaining help from Kanrik and the Thieves Guild.

     No, leaving Faerieland would only end with Clayton being found and dealt with.

     There was only one option left for the Kougra. There was only one person in all of Neopia who held the power to keep Clayton safe.

     They always said that the enemy of your enemy was your friend. Now Clayton was going to test that.

     As soon as he was sure there was enough activity in the city, he snuck out from his hiding place and made his way up to the ruined castle.

     The rebuilding effort was already beginning, with Neopets and Faeries of all elements working together to at least get the living apartments of the castle up and running. Fyora had opened the doors to the locals in the city who had completely lost their homes, so security on the main doors was lighter than usual. No one paid Clayton any attention as he slipped through, just another refugee.

     He found who he was looking for in the royal gardens, staring at the spot where the Darkest Faerie's statue had been - Lady Falmouth.

     The Xweetok was interrupted from her thoughts by Neopets asking about the reconstruction, and then she made her way along the corridor. Clayton followed her, keeping stuck to the wall as he rounded the corner towards her office.

     He found her blade mere inches from his neck.

     "You are an acquaintance of the former Duke Hopesmeade," she stated.

     Clayton nodded.

     "You have had a hand in all this, too, I take it?" she asked.

     Again, Clayton nodded.

     "Just who are you, Kougra?" Falmouth demanded.

     Clayton reached inside his pocket, putting on the ceremonial Sway ring and showing the symbol to Falmouth by means of proof.

     "My name is Clayton Moore," he told her. "I am an Agent of the Sway... And I surrender."

The End