Restart Again: Volume 2 by Adam Scott (hardest books to read txt) 📕

bench. Crouching down to his eye level, I pulled the tight band of cloth out of his mouth. “So,” I started, giving him a careful once over, “how’ve you been?”

He raised an eyebrow and stared back at me, returning the assessment. “Not well, I’m afraid. Your royal companion does not have the gentlest bedside manner. Rough hands, cold eyes, no sense of humor; I’m sure you’re familiar with it.” He shifted to a more upright position with a pained grunt. “I think she may have sprained my finger in the process of tying my hands behind my back.”

I sucked in my breath empathetically. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” There was a long moment of silence as we continued to size each other up, which ended abruptly when I punched him square in the nose. He reeled back with a shout, squirming helplessly as he tried in vain to lessen the pain. I leaned in and put a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly enough that only he could hear me. “Unfortunately for you, she will be the friendliest face you see during your stay with us. You may want to apologize for the things you said to her earlier.”

To his credit, he recovered from the blow well, shaking off the daze and blowing a large gob of snot and blood out from his damaged nose. “Is this it, then? You’re just here to beat your helpless prisoner?”

“Not at all,” I replied. “I’ve just wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you, is all. You have an extremely punchable face; has anybody ever told you that?”

“Yes, though they soon came to regret it,” he countered. “Most people have learned to treat me with the appropriate level of respect, you see, so I hear it less often than you’d expect.”

“I believe this is exactly the level of respect you deserve. After everything I heard about the genius intellect leading the Company, I expected so much more from you than...this,” I said, gesturing around us with a vague wave of my hand. “Your whole operation was dismantled by three people in one night. Tell me, Strategist, how could such a total loss earn my respect?”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” he replied emphatically. “A loss is only a loss when you learn nothing from it, and I have learned a great deal tonight.”

I laughed. “I think I’m beginning to understand things now. You can never lose a battle if you just redefine losing.”

He chuckled in reply. “You’re sharp, I’ll give you that. Has anyone ever told you that your wit will get you in trouble someday?”

“Oh, sure, plenty of people,” I grinned. “Including your friend Virram Yorrell.”

I saw a quick flash of amusement cross his face. “Ah yes, the young King. Such an interesting man. So much more going on beneath the surface than meets the eye, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Entirely,” I agreed, silently cursing myself again for the poor assessment I had made of Virram when we first met. Checking briefly over my shoulder to ensure Val was still standing with Lia by the council table, I lowered my voice to a near whisper. “She may not want to believe you, but I do. When we turn you over to the Golden Throne, Virram will have you released before the sun sets. The only reason you agreed to her ‘terms’ is because they’re the fastest and safest way for you to get out of this city and back to your Company.”

“So, you’ve figured me out then,” he replied with a devilish grin. “What do you plan to do about it? You need me as much as I need you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I placed a hand on the pommel of my sword and tapped softly on the grip. “I don’t need you in the slightest. I could kill you now, walk out those doors, and leave Attetsia without a second thought. I don’t care about you, this city, or the King.”

“Then what do you care about?” he asked slowly, his eyes narrowing. “If that’s true, why are you even here?”

“Warp.” The affable tone of my voice drained away as I finally reached the main focus of my interrogation. “Tell me how you’re making it, and where you’re keeping it.” While I was confident I had been wrong about the Dominion appearing in Attetsia, the similarities they shared with the men under the influence of Warp were too great for me to ignore.

“I see,” the Strategist remarked under his breath, slowly nodding his head. He continued with his private line of thought for a moment, his eyes staring absently into the floor, then refocused on me and smiled. “We did not manufacture Warp, we simply modified it; it is produced almost exclusively in Doram and sold to the rest of the world through semi-legal operations. Of course, now that...uhm…” he trailed off and gestured with his chin up to the raised platform. “Uhm...Solette! Yes, that was her name. Now that Solette is dead, I imagine my days of modifying Warp are behind me.”

I was taken aback by the entirely disinterested tone of his voice as he continued to speak about the woman who had been his ally. “Her notes should still be in our quarters on the flagship, but nobody within the Company has the aptitude to follow them effectively. From what I understand, the methods she used for her magic were far more abstract than the standard rituals taught in the Unity church.” He let out a brief, bored sigh. “As for the where of the matter, our entire supply is in a chest beneath the council table.”

“All of it?” I asked suspiciously, caught off guard by the straightforward answer.

“All of it,” he affirmed. “As we were to mobilize our entire force at dawn, the entire supply was planned to be distributed among the Unbound men; one last test before another round of modifications to the formula. With that plan now canceled, I find myself with no further need