Vincent knocked on the door. No one answered. So, he knocked again and waited.

  “Whose house is this?” Hugo asked.

  “An old friend’s,” Vincent replied and knocked again.

  “Maybe he isn’t home.”

  “He never leaves.”

  And sure enough, someone answered. “Hold on, man!” was the call from inside. A strong Jamaican accent.

  Soon, the door opened. A middle aged man, dark skinned and about as tall as Vincent stood at the doorway. Holding the door open, the man scratched his chin-curtain beard and smiled.

  “Hello, Paul,” Vincent said.

  Observing Paul’s attire – a long white shirt and chequered capris, Hugo eventually noticed his necklace made of three strands of dark brown threads woven together.

  “You’re a Wali,” The Zaatsu whispered.

  “Mi never know yuh were workin’ with Outsiders, Vincent,” Paul said, smiling at the bounty hunter. He then looked at Hugo and said, “No, mi done with the Cult now.”

  Paul Knowles was once a member of a Cult which went by the name of ‘Wali al Alam’ – Friends of the World. Operating in and around the Arabian peninsula, these people were famous for making and trading many different kinds of magic potions and poisonous substances and weapons. Mesmerized by the lies told by the Serpents of God – followers of Ambris Ferrer, they provided the group with many weapons and weaponized potions. Most of their members went into a self-imposed exile owing to this blunder, leaving the Cult all but finished.

  Hugo stressed, “But you are still wearing their necklace.”

  “Mi believe in science, sah,” Paul replied. “Mi loyalty is to di wisdom of mi ancestors, not di foolishness of di people runnin’ things today.” He moved out of the way. “Please, come in.”

  Paul’s home was less than a hundred square yards. The entrance led into a lounge where he sat his guests down – gents on chairs and the ladies on the couch. He then went into the adjacent kitchen. The Zeta Squad observed their surroundings carefully. There was just one room behind them with a cat sat right next to its entrance, the kitchen was next to them to the right of the house entrance, and a staircase, next to the main entrance, leading upstairs. The dust on the rails and the steps, and the otherwise spotless home, suggested that the first floor was not frequently used. There were three bird cages hanging on the porch, visible through the window, with what looked to be pairs of lovebirds inside. A single ceiling fan gently spun overhead.

  A few minutes later, Paul returned with a tray in his hand. He handed out glasses of grapefruit juice to everyone and said, “If yuh did tell me ahead of time, mi woulda been better prepared.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality, sir,” Hugo said. “Can I ask your name?”

  “Paul, Paul Knowles.”

  “Mr Knowles, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The people of his Cult were all known to be well mannered and courteous, and Paul was no different. He grabbed a chair and sat with them. Looking at Vincent he asked, “So, what bring yuh here, likkle man?”

  “I need to know where Derek is,” Vincent replied. “Do you have any idea?”

  Paul smiled. “Yuh already know di answer,” he said. “Else yuh wouldn’t have come all dis way, seen?”

  “I can only guess, old friend.”

  “But mi haffi disappoint yuh because he left di village earlier today.”

  “Was he going far?”

  “He never say. But him did mention meeting someone in Nicholls Town. 'Bout twenty-five kilometre east from here. Di rogues round dat side always busy in di market, but nowadays, dem more interested in knowing stuff, if yuh catch mi drift…”

  “I’m afraid I catch it all too well…”

  “So, who’s di company?”

  Vincent looked at the Squad then back at Paul. “They are acquaintances with a common interest to a different means,” he replied with a smile. “But don’t be fooled by the Hawaiian shirts, they all pack a punch.”

  Paul smiled back and looked at Hugo. “Mi know yuh, Master,” he said. “Mi cyan lie.”

  “You do?” Hugo asked with a nod and wide open eyes.

  “Mi keep info dat worth somethin’. For safety… and leverage, same way. Like, there’s a Master in di Palace who can grab anyone he want, a bounty hunter slick enough to fool di Keepers, and a wizard sellin’ secrets on di black markets who bring trouble wherever him go.”

  The Zeta Squad looked at each other. “Should we be worried,” Hugo asked then looked at Vincent.

  “Nah, man,” the bounty hunter said smiling. “Paul’s a friend.”

  “Mi just a simple man, Master,” Paul added. “Mi trade what mi got… for what mi don’t. And right now… mi kinda low on friends.”

  “Then could you please tell us who Derek’s meeting with,” Hugo asked.

  “Absolutely…”

  Paul got up and walked into the room. The whole squad turned towards Vincent and looked at him in shock.

  “What?” Vincent said and took a deep breath.

  “How does he know Master Baylis?” Marcus asked.

  “How did I know any of you?”

  Camille shook her head as she looked away saying, “The black markets…”

  “Yes.” The White Bolt nodded. “You can buy information like that in the black markets quite easily.”

  So, Marcus then asked, “What the hell is this black market anyway?”

  Gina explained saying, “The black markets are a huge network of underground and off the radar people, shops, offices, and recreational outlets which entertains the arcane community exclusively but remains hidden amongst the plebeians. And a lot of shady stuff goes on there. Illegal stuff.”

  “So, hold on a minute,” Camille interrupted. “How would someone know where any of these markets are?”

  “I know, so you know,” said Hugo. “You know, so now all your acquaintances know. They know, so someone else will know. So on, and so forth.”

  “Does the Eye know?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then how are they still operating?”

  “Because they help us fish out all sorts of criminals.” He shrugged and added, “Or at least that’s what we think…”

  “Who is Paul?” Camille asked looking at Vincent. “And how can we trust he won’t sell us out right now or later?”

  “Yeah, man,” Marcus added. “For all we know he could be calling in the cavalry from the other room.”

  “The wilderness follows its rules,” Vincent said with a smile, shaking his head. “Ah,” he sighed. “No longer hungry, a lion does not bother the herds. We are not talking to a civilized, well trained, well educated, human being. We are only dealing with a man who is afraid of you and just wants to live his life in peace. The guy’s 52 years old. He can no longer fight his way out of a mess. So, he acquires knowledge, which is his only leverage. He feeds his neighbours, heals the town’s people, and lives in silence. I am more afraid of what you people might do now that you know he’s here.”

  Silence prevailed for a few moments before Camille asked, “What is Derek’s role in the black market?”

  “The most expensive commodity in the market is information,” Vincent explained. “Derek is a heavy trader of this branch – a very expensive tongue-man. People have been buying and selling information on the black markets for centuries from these people. And their tongue was always their most valuable asset hence the name ‘Tongue’-man.”

  “Why tongue-man? Why not a simpler name like a snitch or something?”

  “Because they don’t write anything down.”

  The entire squad leaned in as Hugo nodded then dropped his head.

  “They keep everything inside their mind-palace,” the White Bolt continued. “What they say is what you hear. And if you don’t want anyone else to hear, guess what you’ll do?”

  With a hand over her mouth, Ella looked at him wide eyed and whispered, “Cut off their tongue…”

  “Yup. So, anyways…” The bounty hunter leaned back in his chair. “Derek has the biggest information pool in the world right now. If anybody knows where the remnants have turned up or where they’ve disappeared to, it has to be him.”

  Just then, Paul walked out of the room with a phone in his hand. “Mi record every convo mi have with guests,” he said as he sat down. He handed the phone to Vincent. “Jus’ press play,” he said.

  Vincent hit play and the team listened in. Paul was talking with another man in the recording.

  “That’s him,” Vincent said with a nod. “That’s Derek.”

  The man was explaining to Paul that he had to meet a few people from a local group of wizards the next morning to exchange some intel regarding drug trafficking in the area.

  “When was this recorded?” Hugo asked.

  “Today,” Paul replied. “Just before noon.”

  “Odd, isn’t it?” Marcus mentioned. “What does a guy like him have to do with drug trafficking?”

  “Yuh never know who might be comin’ fi yuh,” Paul replied.

  Thereafter, the squad thanked and said their goodbyes to Paul Knowles and left.

  “What now?” Neil asked as the group walked away from the cottage.

  Vincent looked at Hugo and said, “It’s your call from here on out, clown.”

  Hugo smiled, nodded, and stopped. The others stopped as well. “I have a question, Vincent,” he said looking at the bounty hunter. “How does Paul know you? If I know one thing about tongue-men is that they don’t give away information for free to just anyone…”

  With a chuckle, Vincent replied, “It’s a long story.”

  “I think we’ll all enjoy a good long story. Night’s young, and we have a long way to go.”

  The White Bolt shook his head, and with a smile said, “The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep… and miles to go before I sleep… and miles to go before I sleep…”

  Hugo smiled and ordered his team to form the teleportation circle again.

  The Zeta Squad vanished and reappeared 8 miles outside Nicholls Town, close to the San Andros Airport. The Squad sat in the shadow of trees. They only knew Derek’s voice but that was enough.

  “Alright, Mystic,” said Hugo. “You’re up.”

  “Right,” Ella said, then took a deep breath. With closed eyes and outstretched arms, she began to hum. The rest of the group sat in silence. After humming for a few seconds, she whispered, “SHIRTOS-TARMINA-FIR-POL…”

  A flicker of Ki left her extended hands. The spell amplified the ripple her hum created and tuned it to the exact frequency of Derek’s voice from the phone recording. Like a wave searching for its echo, it would ignore all other disturbances until it struck a perfect match.

  An echoing hum was heard a few seconds later. It sounded like the man they had heard in Paul’s phone recording.

  Nodding, Vincent whispered, “Nice.”

  “Seems like a match alright,” she said then brought her hands down. The young Mystic looked at Hugo and asked, “What do you think, Master Baylis?”

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  He looked at her and asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s… I think it could very well be him.”

  The captain smiled and nodded. “Alright, Mr White Bolt,” he looked at Vincent. “Let’s go and find out.”

  He nodded back then asked, “What’s the plan?”

  “Ella will give you the directions,” Gina quickly explained. “She will tell you as exactly as she can. Then you’ll have to show us your magic from there on out.”

  “I could… or…”

  With raised eyebrows, Hugo asked, “Or?”

  “She’s a Mystic.” Vincent was now looking at Ella. “Mask your Ki and presence and lead the way…”

  Ella looked at Hugo who shrugged and said, “He’s got a point. Plus, you’re a Mystic. No matter how good at hiding he is, if push comes to shove, you’ll rip that wizard apart no sweat.”

  “Nah, that’s too risky,” Neil said, shaking his head. “Why put her in harm’s way unnecessarily?”

  “She can handle it.” The captain then patted both Vincent and Ella on the shoulder and sent them off.

  The duo hitched a ride into town and got off close to a motel adjacent to the beach. They walked to the rear of a building.

  “That’s the motel,” Ella said, pointing. “If I’m not mistaken, and that voice was actually his, then Derek should be in there somewhere.”

  They sat hiding behind a bush. The White Bolt peeked through and observed. The place seemed rather quiet. He could feel no arcane activity.

  The Mystic tapped on his shoulder and, in a near whispering sound, said, “I could redo the spell to further pinpoint his location.”

  He shook his head saying, “And risk giving away yours?”

  “You’ve got a better idea?”

  “Yes. He’s right there…”

  They both peeked this time. He pointed at a middle-aged man standing on the veranda at the back of a room. Tanned brown skin, white French cut beard, a trilby hat, open Hawaiian shirt, and boxer shorts – they had found Derek.

  A voice in Vincent’s head said, ‘Hide the Ki limiting ropes before approaching him.’ It was Hugo, talking via his shadow. Vincent asked Ella who did exactly that. Thereafter, the bounty hunter, asking his partner to stay put, went off.

  “You’re supposed to be a hard man to find,” he said upon approaching.

  “You’re one of the only few who can surprise me,” Derek responded smiling. He turned around to face the approaching White Bolt. “Been a while.”

  They shook hands and went inside. Ella, thence, sneaked closer and sat just outside the room to listen in on the conversation.

  Elsewhere, Hugo asked his teammates to charge their Ki to match his. They did so and placed their hands on his shoulder forming a link with his spirit and its shadow as well. The entire Zeta Squad was now tuned in.

  Derek sat Vincent down on a sofa chair then went and sat on the bed. “What brings you to these parts, kid?” he asked.

  “I need information, as usual,” Vincent replied. “I need to know where the remnants of the Xoitique diamond went.”

  “Is he supposed to acquire information or reveal information?” Neil asked Hugo.

  “He knows what he’s doing,” Hugo replied. “For some odd reason Vincent wants those remnants as bad as we do. Don’t worry. He can handle this. And stay very still.” He looked back at his squad mates. “Your movements may cause a visible disturbance in his shadow.”

  Derek leaned forward and asked, “I heard you went one on one with the Baylis Zaatsu. How good is he? Did he take your remnants?”

  “I’m not sure about how good,” Vincent replied. “But he is damn smart. And as for the remnants… well, I wouldn’t be here if I had them.”

  “Word on the street isn’t all that good. I owe you for last time so I’m letting you in on this.”

  “What?”

  “A good chunk of the remnants has been fused.”

  Slowly narrowing his gaze, Vincent said, “What?”

  Derek nodded. “Yeah.”

  “But do you know where they are?”

  “No idea.”

  The bounty hunter leaned back. “That doesn’t repay the favour, D.”

  “Well, do you have any other questions?”

  ‘Ask who took them,’ Hugo told Vincent.

  He asked, “Any idea who might have taken the remnants? Or where they went?”

  “The ones down under are with the Palace, that I know for a fact,” Derek replied. “The fused chunk though... it's a whole other deal.”

  “He knows that for a fact?” said Marcus.

  Hugo once again said, “Quiet!”

  “How so?” Vincent asked leaning ahead.

  “New players are in town,” Derek quietly added.

  “Who?”

  “They call themselves the Devil’s Hearth.”

  “Devil’s Hand?”

  “No. Hearth.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I believe the word means home or a place of comfort.”

  “So, what? Do they live with the devil?”

  “Could be…”

  “What’re they about?”

  “They are a bizarre group which is extremely active inside the black markets but has gone unnoticed.”

  “Nothing goes unnoticed there, Derek. You of all people should know that…”

  “Believe me when I say this… the Devil’s Hearth is up to something. And it ain’t good. First, they haven’t announced themselves like a Cult would. And secondly, they have hired a huge number of civilian lackies to do trading for them.”

  “Civilians?” Camille asked. “Does he mean plebeians?”

  Hugo replied saying, “Yes.”

  Vincent stretched. “So, this is just you reading and predicting,” he said with a half-smile. “Stats lie, you know.”

  “Not like this.” Derek shook his head as he leaned ahead. “95% of the civilians visiting the markets are exclusively buying enchanted weaponry."

  “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  “Last I heard, 60% were buying medicinal potions and the rest were buying cursing talismans.”

  “That has roughly been the case from forever. But this time…” the tongue-man punched the bed softly and whispered, “This time it’s different.”

  Vincent looked away for a few moments. Looking back at him, he asked, “How do you know that all these civilians are with this Devil’s Hearth?”

  “The weapons are being accumulated at certain places.”

  ‘Ask him where,’ Hugo demanded.

  “Where?” Vincent asked.

  “Three different locations, but that’s going to cost you.”

  “Forget it then. Carry on.”

  “Ah, you cheap ass!” Derek waited a moment then explained, “They have a knack for Witchcraft and Magicism, and have now been equipped with a hell of a lot of enhanced weaponry. They don’t centre their operations anywhere and are yet to attack anyone. As of now they are just busy stealing stuff.”

  “You said ‘enhanced weaponry’. What kind?”

  “Magic arrows that always hit the target, magic shields that Ki attacks can’t penetrate, poison tipped swords, and even some talismans and amulets of power.”

  Silence prevailed, thereafter, as Vincent sat with a bowed head pondering his next move. Derek lit up a cigarette then offered one to his guest who swiftly declined.

  “What is it to you?” the tongue-man asked, observing the bounty hunter from head to toe.

  “Reputation,” Vincent replied then looked up.

  “Really?”

  “I took the bounty to recover remnants. I can’t go back empty handed.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  ‘Get him to reveal a location,’ Hugo asked.

  “I can’t seem to figure out whether you are telling the truth or just misleading me,” Vincent said with a narrow gaze and a smile.

  Derek laughed. “I like you, kid,” he said. “We have all night. Ask away and do away with all suspicions.” He took off the hat and half lied down with his head resting on his hands resting against the headboard. As he brought one leg atop the other, he exclaimed, “Fire away!”

  “Alright,” Vincent leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out. “Devil’s Hearth, how do you know about them?”

  “I buy information and sell it. I don’t sell my providers.”

  “Then how can I know whether they are real or not?”

  “I sell information. You do with it as you wish. I don’t take any responsibilities.”

  “You say that the remnants have been fused.”

  “Yes.”

  “Theoretically, that would create a residual wave which can be felt on the moon. How is it that I never felt it?”

  “Because they weren’t smashed together.”

  “So, the Parliament didn’t do it?”

  “No.”

  “There is no other way of doing it then.”

  “There is one.”

  “Alchemy?”

  The tongue-man smiled. “So, you know of it?”

  “There are no alchemists alive, Derek. Alchemy died centuries ago. Stop playing!”

  “What’s he doing?” Marcus asked.

  “He’s good,” Hugo said. “Doesn’t want to give his own position away. He doesn’t want Derek to think he is desperate or in any sort of a weak position. Smart.”

  Derek nodded and said, “Then give me an explanation otherwise…”

  “You’re lying,” Vincent said with a smile.

  “Ha-ha-ha! That is a possibility, isn’t it? But I can give you another explanation if you want to know…”

  “It’ll cost me…”

  “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Name your price, Derek.”

  “Alright… 1000 dollars.”

  “He doesn’t have money, does he?” Camille asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Hugo replied.

  Neil shook his head. “This is not going well,” he said.

  Vincent, on the other hand, smiled and leaned ahead. “You owe me for an entire bounty, snitch,” he said. “I’d say it ranked at least 5000 dollars. I ran you away from EU Cultists, remember?”

  “EU?” asked Marcus.

  “Eastern European Cults,” replied Hugo.

  “I’ve already given you enough, kid,” Derek quickly replied.

  “You have given me nothing!”

  “What do you mean by that? I gave you information about the remnants, I told you about the Hearth, I told you a lot more than I should have.”

  “You told me about remnants, yes. But where are they? I am asking for a location, not speculative theories about dead Martial Arts. You talked about a movement that I never asked about. If they have a relation with the remnants, you failed to specify it. And you are now asking for money? Don’t ever mistake me for a fool, wizard!”

  Derek sat up straight. “Then after today,” he said. “Consider us even.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way…”

  “The Devil’s Hearth are being led by an Alchemist. I don’t know his name, and I don’t know where the remnants are, but he is the one after the remnants.”

  “To what end?”

  “Simple. They want domination. They are getting ready to wage war on the Eye.”

  The White Bolt chuckled. “The Eye?” he asked. “Seriously? Even if they can effectively utilise the power of the diamond, the Regal Palace already has the Xoitique Emerald and the Xoitique Void.”

  “They don’t.”

  “What do you mean they don’t?”

  “Think about it. When Ambris attacked, did they use any of the stones?”

  “Not that I heard. But they wanted whatever remained of the Outsiders out of the Palace and the City of Ayn. They wanted the Seekers to die!”

  “No. No.” He shook his head. “That is besides the fact. If they had them, they would have used them.”

  “So, then where are they?”

  “Remnants of the diamond, Vincent. The other stones are not part of the deal.”

  “Fine. Anything else worth mentioning?”

  “Yes, but this will be the last detail, boy.”

  “Sure.”

  “The Hearth has people inside the Eye.”

  “Oh, fuck you!” Vincent looked away as he leaned back. “Do you have any idea how obnoxiously careful they’ve been lately?” He looked back at Derek. “They’re killing off anyone they can get their hands on. You think they’ll let someone slip in just like that?”

  “Oh, but they didn’t let anyone slip recently.”

  “Then?”

  “The infiltration began decades ago.”

  “How long has the Devil’s Hearth been around?”

  “I said that was the last thing…”

  The White Bolt leaned ahead. “I am willing to pay you a thousand dollars if you tell me three things.”

  “Alright.” The tongue-man nodded. “I’m interested.”

  “Tell me how old the Devil’s Hearth movement is, give me a remnant related location, and give me one name inside the Palace.”

  “I have a feeling you know something…”

  “I’m here to buy, Derek, not sell.”

  “Let’s exchange names. And I’ll give you the other two details for free.”

  “Hugo,” Neil whispered.

  “Hush,” the captain said.

  “Always an interesting time with you, man,” Vincent said with a smile.

  Derek giggled. “You always have extremely valuable items for me,” he said, “And you know I’m a sucker for a good trade.”

  “Alright. But you have to go first.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you the name, then you’ll give me the name, and then I’ll tell you the rest.”

  “Deal.”

  With a deep breath, Derek said, “Adel Abayomi.”

  Vincent shrugged and said, “Hedish Norma.”

  “The Mystic?”

  “I believe so. And?”

  “Oh, word amongst black marketeer spiritually active individuals is that the remnants gathered somewhere in the south of the Iberian Peninsula recently, like just over 24 hours ago.”

  ‘That’s where our European outpost is…’ Hugo told Vincent.

  “Can you be any more specific?” the White Bolt asked.

  The tongue-man shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s all I got.”

  “Carry on then…”

  “The Devil’s Hearth… they have been around for more than four decades now.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!”

  “I don’t joke, kid. And have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

  ‘Vincent, get out of there,’ Hugo said to the bounty hunter. ‘He’s working a different angle now.’

  Vincent quickly got up. “Then I guess I’ll be off,” he said.

  “Leaving so soon?” Derek asked as he too stood up. “You look like you’re in a hurry to get somewhere…”

  “Always too much to do and always so little time…”

  “Well, be careful out there.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that…”

  “No, seriously.” The tongue-man took a deep breath then nodded. “Trouble is never an arm’s length these days, Vincent. You never know when you might find it around the next corner.”

  Ella ran off to her original hiding spot and waited. Very soon, Vincent and Derek walked out. Shaking hands, the two said their goodbyes and the bounty hunter left. As soon as Derek walked back inside, the Mystic ran behind her partner. Meeting up, they stole a ride back to the Zeta Squad.