5 – 17

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Ruda stopped in the doorway to her room, blinking sleepily at the scene in the lounge. “….the hell is all this?”

“Breakfast,” Gabriel said helpfully.

“What… Where’d you get it? I know that spread didn’t come from the kitchen in this hole.”

Everyone else was clustered around the low table in the center of the room, plates in their laps laden with an assortment of sausages, fried potatoes and honey cakes, the serving dishes of which lay steaming on the table.

“Fross bought it for us,” said Teal, waving a fork at her. “Wasn’t that sweet?”

“Aw, it was nothing,” the pixie said modestly. “Professor Tellwyrn left me with some money in case we needed anything, and you all were still asleep and I don’t sleep, so it really seemed like the most logical division of labor for me to go and get food, though I had a little bit of trouble at the market because I guess the people in this city aren’t used to doing business with pixies, but it all worked out in the end!”

Ruda blinked again. “…okay, three questions. How did you carry all this, and where are you keeping money?”

“Simple levitation and a very basic pocket dimension spell, just like the bag-of-holding enchantments on the pockets of your coat except anchored to my aura instead of a charmed object, and that’s only two questions.”

“Third question, why the hell did Tellwyrn leave you in charge of the money?!”

Fross chimed softly in apparent confusion. “Why wouldn’t she? What’s wrong with that?”

“Fross is very responsible,” Trissiny said. “It makes perfect sense to me. Stop gaping and come get something to eat, Ruda.”

Ruda, shaking her head, stepped into the room, picked up a plate and began dishing out potatoes and sausage. “Well, whatever works, I guess.”

“Exactly!” Fross said cheerfully.

“Try one of the honey buns, Juno,” Gabriel suggested around a mouthful of one.

“No, thanks.” Juniper wrinkled her nose. “Processed sugar, bleached flour… I’m mystified at some of the things humans do to food. What is the point of all that?”

“The point is they are delicious,” said Teal, picking one up.

“If you say so,” the dryad said with a shrug, taking another bite of sausage.

“Don’t want any potatoes, either?” Toby asked with an elaborately casual air. “They’re quite good.”

“Why is everyone so concerned with what I’m eating?” she demanded. Juniper had piled a plate with sausages and nothing else. “I don’t feel like starch this morning. I like these. Protein and fat, good for energy.”

“Okay,” Toby said carefully. “Just don’t, y’know…overdo it.”

“What?” Juniper frowned at him. “You mean, like, over-eat? I don’t do that.”

“Maybe leave her alone?” Trissiny suggested.

“Okay, sorry,” Toby said peaceably. “I’m probably going on about nothing. Just wondered…”

“Wondered what?” Juniper said sharply.

“How about you all settle down?” Ruda suggested blearily. “Bitch at each other after I’m awake enough to participate.”

“It’s nothing,” said Toby.

“No, really. Clearly it is not nothing.” Juniper set her plate down on the floor beside her chair and angled her body to face him directly. “What is it that has you so concerned this time, since you’ve appointed yourself my guardian.”

“Guys,” Gabriel said nervously. “Let’s have peace in the house, yeah?”

“It’s just that you’re eating nothing but meat,” Toby said quietly, ignoring him. “I’m not certain that’s a good habit to get in, while we’re in the city.”

Teal sighed, covering her eyes with a hand.

“Toby, come on,” Gabriel protested.

“I am not a shark,” Juniper snapped. “I am not going to go into some kind of blood frenzy. What is your problem?!”

“I don’t have a…” Toby trailed off, staring at her, then glanced quickly around at the group. He sighed, picking at his own potatoes with a fork. “Okay, Juniper, I’m sorry. I just wish I could help you. You’re clearly bothered about something, and I don’t know how to help you deal with it.”

“You could try doing what I asked, and leaving me alone about it! You’re acting like I’m gonna do something horrible if you don’t watch me every minute. How do you think that makes me feel? I’m not some kind of monster!”

“Actually,” Fross chirped, “according to the Imperial Army Encounter Manual—”

“Fross!” Trissiny said sharply. “Not the time.”

“Really?” Juniper exclaimed. “Really? From you, Fross?”

“No one has intended any offense,” Shaeine said firmly. “I suggest we table this subject before someone’s feelings are hurt by a careless remark.”

“If anything, you’re the monsters!” Juniper railed, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth behind the group. “What’s a monster if not an unnatural creature that’s destructive and out of balance? Does that sound like anything you know?”

“Hey, now,” Teal protested.

“Flesh and blood is all it is,” the dryad ranted, continuing to pace like a caged wolf. The other students began shuffling back from her, some setting down their plates. “You’re animals. Why won’t you act like it? Why do you have to treat me like some kind of freak because I’m not like you?! It’s just…it’s hypocritical!”

“Hey.” Gabriel stood up, speaking gently, and stepped in front of her. Juniper came to a stop, glaring at him, fists clenched at her sides. “Juno, hon… That’s the second time I’ve heard you say something like that lately. Can I ask why you feel so strongly about it?”

“Why I— Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just…nature, you know?” he went on, keeping his tone quiet. “We all are what we are. Humans are just doing what they do. Believe me, I’ve had reason to give a lot of thought to this, growing up; people weren’t exactly thrilled to have me around, and all because of what nature gave me. So humans don’t act like, say…sheep.”

“Now there’s a political ow!” Ruda protested, rubbing her arm where Trissiny had jabbed her.

“Humans, elves, whatever else, we all follow our nature. Different kinds of creatures behave in different ways,” Gabriel continued, keeping his eyes on Juniper’s. “And…you seem to support that as a rule. Why is it that what humans do bothers you so much?”

She stared at him, flexing her hands. “I don’t… I can’t—”

He took a step closer. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Juniper stepped back, eyes widening. “Guilty?! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You just…you are what you are, too,” he said. “Naturally. It was all before you’d gotten to know any humans. And maybe before you started to find out how much humanity you have in you as well.”

“I am not human! I’m less human than you are!”

“I’m not so sure,” he said, shaking his head. “Remember what Tellwyrn said? Naiya was once human. You’re made in a basically human image. There’s more to you, but at your core—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Juniper raged, baring her teeth at him.

“Gabriel,” Toby said firmly. “I think you should leave her alone.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Ruda snorted, taking a bite of potato.

“It’s called empathy,” Gabriel went on, still soft but relentless. “We recognize ourselves in each other, and we feel for each other. Maybe being around all these people is starting to—”

“Shut up!” Juniper snapped.

“—make you realize that something in you is basically—”

“Shut UP!” she shrieked, then hauled off and punched him. Her wild swing only hit him in the shoulder, but Gabriel was hurled, spinning, into the wall, where he left cracks in the wood before slumping to the floor.

There was a chorus of shouts as the other students leaped to their feet; Teal and Toby rushed to Gabriel’s side. Juniper took a step back from him, looking stricken.

Shaeine crossed the floor with swift strides that set her long robes to fluttering. Juniper turned at her approach, trying to marshal her features; it was like seeing a child attempt to control her expression, so unpracticed at it was she. “Oh, don’t bother, Shaeine, that sleep trick of yours won’t work on—”

Shaeine drew back her whole arm and slapped Juniper full across the face.

Stunned silence fell. Juniper’s head wasn’t moved by so much as an inch; given her constitution, the blow had to have hurt the drow more than the dryad, but Juniper looked utterly shocked, slowly raising a hand to her cheek.

Shaeine was glaring at her.

“Is this how you treat your friends, Juniper?” she snapped. “I thought better of you.”

Juniper stared at her, then past her shoulder at Gabriel, who was slumped against the wall, clutching his arm. Tears welled up in her eyes; emitting a choked noise, she whirled and fled around the corner to the roof access stairs.

Silence held for a moment.

“Fucking ow,” Gabriel groaned. “Why am I always the one who gets hurt?! This is getting ridiculous! I’m supposed to be invulnerable, but noooo. Everybody has to take their turn finding a loophole.”

“Yeah, it can’t be that you do stupid shit like pick fights with paladins and agitate dryads,” Ruda commented. She was the only one still seated, and hadn’t stopped eating.

“Yeah,” Gabe said, baring his teeth at her. “And then there was the time you fucking stabbed me!”

“Are you still on about that? Let it go, boy.”

Shaeine, now as calm as she normally was, had knelt beside him and placed a hand over his shoulder, glowing faintly. “You seem to have suffered no damage from the impact; hethelaxi constitution is exceedingly durable, indeed, but ‘invulnerable’ may be overstating it. Fairy magic still cancels infernal, which is why you suffer broken bones on being punched by a dryad.”

“Oh, it’s broken?” he said, wincing. “Doesn’t hurt that much…”

“You are likely resistant to pain, given your heritage. This is beyond my skill,” Shaeine said gravely. “I could heal it, but… You have crushed muscle, torn ligaments and yes, broken bone. Healing it as is would cause all this to calcify in its current position, rendering your arm permanently unusable.”

“Fuck,” he said feelingly.

“Can you stand? We must go to a more capable healer.”

“Fuck,” Gabriel repeated, looking increasingly agitated. “Healers are no good for me, they’re all about the light…”

“The clinic in Lor’naris is run by an elvish shaman and a much more experienced priestess of Themynra than I,” Shaeine said gently. “And it is unconsecrated. You will be fine. You need their attention, Gabriel.”

He allowed Teal and Toby to help him to his feet, wincing when his arm was jostled.

“Hey, um,” Trissiny said hesitantly, catching Shaeine’s eye. “Did you just…emote?”

“I am sorry you had to see that,” the drow said calmly. “Anger is an exception.”

“An…exception?”

Shaeine sighed softly. “Explaining cultural concepts in a few words is…difficult. Teal, I recall that you summarized it rather succinctly?”

“Basically,” said Teal, “the Narisian practice of emotional reserve is all about respect and keeping harmony within the group. In certain circumstances, it’s permissible to show anger. It’s a warning, a way of letting someone know unequivocally that they’ve pushed too far, so as to ward off a more serious confrontation. If a drow ever gets visibly angry, you need to stop whatever you were doing.”

“I see,” Trissiny murmured.

“Just for the record, Gabe,” Toby said, helping Gabriel limp toward the stairs, “telling someone not to feel guilty is pretty pointless. Feelings don’t work like that.”

“Fuck it, I tried,” Gabriel muttered.

“It was perceptive of you to discern the cause of Juniper’s discontent,” said Shaeine. “I confess I myself failed to interpret her actions so well.”

“Surprisingly perceptive, but clumsy in execution,” said Teal, grinning.

“Classic Arquin!” Ruda said cheerfully around a mouthful of sausage.

“Is this a bad time?”

They all stopped again, staring. Bishop Antonio Darling stood at the head of their stairs, wearing a slightly shabby suit and looking around the room with a raised eyebrow.

“Little bit,” said Gabriel. “’scuze us? Off to the sawbones.”

“Need a hand?” the Bishop offered. “I’m not much for healing but—”

“No!” Gabriel squawked.

“Thanks, your Grace,” said Teal, “but he’s a half-demon. That wouldn’t help him any.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Darling stepped to one side. “I’ll just get out of your way, then.”

“Much obliged,” Gabriel grunted, still leaning on Toby as they hobbled past. “Fuck, this is just stupid. It’s my shoulder. Why is it hard to walk?”

“Impact from footsteps,” Toby explained. “Also, your muscles are all connected. Damaging anything in your torso will pretty much mess you up…”

“Life is unfair.”

They vanished down the steps, Teal and Toby flanking the injured half-demon with Shaeine trailing along behind them.

“Mornin’, your Graceness,” Ruda said pleasantly, waving with her fork. “Care for a bite? This is good stuff, our pixie really knows her way around a kitchen, somehow.”

“I try,” Fross offered, sounding bemused. She had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange with Juniper.

“No, thanks, I’m just here on business,” said Darling, fixing his gaze on Trissiny. He had a thick folder tucked under his arm and a leather pouch in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair pretty quickly.”

“What can we do for you, your Grace?” asked Trissiny, stepping forward.

“Well.” He kept his eyes on her, something oddly tense in his expression. “I have some deliveries for you, Ms. Avelea. Here.” He tossed her the bag, which she deftly caught. “Your coin, which my apprentices were completely out of line to have taken.”

“Thank you, but…” She opened the bag, blinking in surprise at its contents. “This is considerably more than they took. There are decabloons in here.”

“Yes,” he said grimly. “In addition to returning your property, that is their wages for the month. Yes, yes, I know you have little regard for money; drop it in a collection plate if you wish. For my purposes, what matters is not you having it but them losing it, and that’s only part of the discussion I had with them last night. The Guild does not steal from Silver Legionnaires, nor antagonize powerful people just to be snarky, nor harass the mortal representatives of major deities. They were seriously out of line, for which I apologize.”

“No harm done,” Trissiny said carefully, tucking the coin purse away in one of her belt pouches.

“Further,” Darling went on, his expression notably not lightening any as he held out the folder, “here is the paper trail you requested they retrieve. You may find it less incriminating than you hoped; the soldiers at the local barracks are not, in fact, as bumblingly incompetent as villains in a cheap novel and had the basic sense not to fully document their abuses of power. There are, at least, budget records and even receipts detailing the acquisition of scrap wood and volatile enchanting powder, as well as requisitions from the barracks stores of lamp oil.”

“They still use oil lamps?” Ruda snorted. “And here I thought the Imperial Army was all modernized.”

“Well,” Trissiny said slowly, accepting the folder, “that’s something. Less than I’d hoped, but it will help build a case. Along with other evidence already gathered, I believe we are making progress. Thank you, Bishop.”

“Oh, you’re making progress, all right,” he said darkly. “You employed a pair of highly talented but inexperienced agents to retrieve those documents, so naturally they took them instead of copying them and replacing the originals. The barracks commander will notice they are missing, and I assure you he is not stupid enough not to figure out who’s behind it, thanks to your heroics. The only good news there is that he won’t know who did the actual lifting, just that the agitating paladin was the mastermind.”

“I see,” she said, tucking the folder under her own arm. “Well, I shall be cautious. Thank you for the warning, your Grace.”

“You’re not listening,” Darling said sharply, stepping forward. “You sent two Thieves’ Guild apprentices to steal legal documents from an Imperial installation. The sheer number of ways this could go tits-up-in-the-rhubarb wrong beggars imagination. If you were anyone else, Trissiny Avelea, you would be having this conversation with six of my burliest associates in an alley.”

Trissiny stiffened. “You’ll find I don’t respond well to threats, sir.”

“There!” He pointed a finger directly in her face. “That, right there! I make a point of how you are specifically not being threatened despite your behavior richly deserving that approach, and you take it as a threat! Everything is a fight with you, Avelea! Your enemies in this situation are prejudice and pride. This will be solved with words or not at all; if these issues could be overcome through brute force, don’t you think someone in the entire scope of human history would have done it by now?!”

Trissiny actually backed away from the Eserite’s tirade, clutching the folder. “I—I didn’t—”

“Yes, you bloody did, and you need to stop doing. For your information, this matter has been kicked up to the Boss of the Thieves’ Guild; you’ll be glad to know there’s now an official Guild presence in this district. Fully trained agents are keeping watch on the situation. Their orders are to prevent any harm being done with maximum possible discretion, summon legal help if any action by the guard makes it necessary, and I quote, ‘stop that airhead paladin from burning down Lor’naris.’”

“Now, wait just a minute,” she protested.

“That is excellent advice,” Darling pressed on. “For the sake of all the gods, girl, wait. Just because no one is jumping boots first into your pet cause does not mean nobody cares! General Panissar is working on this, as is Ambassador Shariss. Now, thanks to you, so am I, and you have just made it vastly more complex. Any more ham-fisted action on your part is likely to turn a very tense situation into a completely intractable one. So please, please, I’m begging you, sit back and let us work.”

“What work?” she demanded. “I don’t see anything being done!”

“In what, two days? Of course you don’t! These problems have been building for years. This is not a demon for you to slay, Trissiny. Rushing in with your sword out will only make things worse. In fact, it already has. Now, please, take a break. There is no way this is all going to be settled in the brief time you’re in the city; accept that. The best thing you can do for the people of Lor’naris is set an example, and by that I mean you need to embody calm and restraint.”

“They don’t seem to have a problem with restraint around here,” Ruda commented.

“Like all people,” said Darling, “they follow the examples of leaders. That’s the power you lot have in this situation. Your conduct will influence what people around you do, how they react to pressure. You need to be mindful of the example you’re setting.”

“I’ve been loitering around, shopping and drinking in common rooms,” Ruda said brightly.

“Good show,” he replied, nodding approvingly.

“I’m sorry,” Trissiny said, her voice weak.

Darling looked pensively at her for a moment, pursing his lips, then his expression softened. “I know,” he said more gently. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Trissiny. Just…think a little more carefully before you act, all right?”

“All right,” she said, struggling for poise.

“All right,” he repeated, then sighed. “And with that, I need to go immerse myself in some of the delightful paperwork I now have. Have a good day, kids. Have a good, safe, calm, quiet day.” With a final, warning look at Trissiny, he turned and descended the steps.

There was silence for a long moment.

“Wow,” Fross said at last.

Ruda chuckled, forking another bite of sausage and potato into her mouth. “I really like that guy!”

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5 – 16

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“You’d think she could hang out with us a little,” Gabriel grumbled as he and Trissiny stepped into the inn’s stairwell. Behind them, Ruda appeared already to be making friends—despite having left them just seconds ago—by swaggering up to the most crowded table in the common room and offering to buy a round.

“Ruda’s a social creature, and she sees us all the time,” Trissiny said with a shrug. “Let her relax in her own way. We still see plenty of her during study sessions and our activities on behalf of the district.”

“I’m half tempted to ditch the studying, what with Tellwyrn not even being here,” he grumbled. “I was really hoping to have time to visit my dad while I’m in the city. Should’ve done that today, while Juniper’s having her sulk.”

“Tellwyrn would know.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “She always knows.”

“Perhaps you could send your father a message?” she suggested. “If he’s not too busy to join us briefly, I’m sure he’d be glad to see Toby again, too. And I wouldn’t mind meeting—”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said sharply. “Seriously, not a good idea. My dad… He’s not as bad as Elspeth, but he doesn’t much enjoy the company of cleric-type people. Too many have asked pushy questions about my, uh, origin.”

“The word is ‘conception,’” she said dryly. “And yes, I can imagine. I’m a little curious myself about—”

“And that is why this isn’t happening,” Gabe said firmly. “Perhaps I should have said ‘smug, disdainful accusations disguised as pushy questions.’ We don’t talk about it. You will just piss him off, and he doesn’t need or deserve it.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Trissiny said slowly, keeping her eyes on the stairs as she climbed. “It isn’t right to impose. I just can’t help…wondering. Clearly he had his reasons. I mean, you’ve got your issues, Gabe, but you’re generally too well-adjusted to have been raised by some kind of deviant lunatic.”

“Be still, my heart.”

They arrived at the top floor and came to a stop in unison. There were strangers in their lounge area.

“Um,” Gabriel said slowly. “Afternoon, ladies. Sorry to be pushy, but, uh, this floor is reserved…”

“Yes, and you took your time getting here,” said one of the elves, grinning.

“But you’re here now,” added the other. “So let’s talk business! What can we do for you?”

The visitors were both elves, dressed in simple clothing that might have belonged to any factory laborer if not for a striking preference for very dark shades. Grays, browns and deep blues, specifically, rather than black. One wore a suitably heavy winter coat; the other had a thick cloak draped around her shoulders, which ruined her otherwise passably normal look.

“Do for us?” Trissiny asked carefully. “And…you are?”

“I’m Flora,” said the one in the cloak, flourishing it as she bowed, then arranged herself atop it in a chair.

“I’m Fauna,” added her counterpart, offering a mocking salute.

“You called for aid from the Thieves’ Guild, yes?”

“So, here we are. Whatcha need?”

“…seriously?” said Gabriel. “Flora and Fauna?”

“They use tags rather than their real names,” said Trissiny. “It’s a religious thing, don’t be rude.”

“While she’s not wrong,” said Flora, “we’re apprentices; no tags yet.”

“Those actually are our names.”

“I see,” Trissiny said slowly. “And which of us are you following?”

The two elves exchanged a quizzical glance. “Following?” Flora asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Gabriel has just come back from speaking with Elspeth. It would take time for a message to be sent and responded to—much more time than this. You, or one of your compatriots, were waiting. Since you managed to get back here ahead of us, you’d almost have to have been there when he spoke with Elspeth.”

“Well, well,” said Fauna, smiling. “And here we were told she wasn’t quick on the uptake.”

“This is much better,” Flora added. “Dense people are such a pain to work with.”

“Consider it our audition, then,” Fauna added, smiling broadly at Trissiny. “We know what we’re about and can get the job done.”

“Which brings us back to our increasingly tedious original question…”

“What is the job?”

Trissiny drew in a slow, calming breath. “This is a very sensitive matter. Can I trust you two to be…discreet?”

“That’s a little like asking a Legionnaire if she’s ready for a fight,” Flora remarked.

“Not quite insulting,” added Fauna, “but missing the point to a nearly insulting degree.”

“Fine, sorry,” said Trissiny. “I’ll just have to trust you to keep this to yourselves, then. I’m sure you’ve heard about the increasing problems Lor’naris is having with the city guard. Are you aware of the firebombing attempt this morning?”

“Of course, we’re not blind.”

“And yes, we know who was behind it.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle with the guy.”

“Okay, do you two always talk in tandem?” Gabriel asked. “I’ve gotta tell you, that’s more creepy than cute.”

The elves grinned broadly at him.

“And what makes you think we intend to be cute?”

“I need evidence!” Trissiny said loudly, shooting Gabe a glare. “Something concrete to tie the corrupt soldiers of that barracks to the bombing. Any such will be inside the barracks itself.”

The elves exchanged a glance.

“What, you expect them to have a log of their illegal bombing attempt?”

“No I don’t—why does everyone keep—” Trissiny cut herself off and breathed deeply again. “Look. I don’t anticipate there’ll be a signed confession. That operation, like all operations, required resources, and those came from somewhere. The Army’s bureaucracy being what it is, there will be a paper trail. If there’s anything definitive, I’d like you to find and retrieve it.”

Flora and Fauna regarded her in silence for a moment, then shifted to look at each other. They seemed to be having a mute conversation. Finally, Fauna stood from the chair she’d commandeered and paced over to the windows, where she peered out at the street. Flora crossed her arms, leaning back in her own seat. The cloak draped over it and under her created the suggestion of a queen on a throne.

“Robbing the Imperial Army itself, hm,” Fauna said at last. “That’s dicey.”

“Not the central headquarters, obviously,” said Trissiny.

“It’s more plausible than it sounds,” Flora mused. “People who it would be absolutely crazy to try to rob tend to skimp on their security. It’s unlikely anyone has ever tried this.”

“At least not at that particular barracks,” Fauna added, earning a grin from her counterpart.

“All right, General, we’re in.”

“There’s one important point,” said Trissiny. “I know how important credit for successful thefts is to you people, but it would really be best if your involvement in this is kept scrupulously quiet. For something so illegal and guaranteed to antagonize the soldiers in question…well, it’s better if the weight of it falls on me.”

“Hang on,” Gabriel interjected. “You said that if it’s for the greater good and we successfully prove the guards are corrupt, any charges for the break-in will be forgiven.”

“No,” she said patiently, “I said there is a precedent for that. Imperial magistrates have discretion in such matters, but they don’t pardon vigilantism in general—that’d be a recipe for anarchy. Hands of Avei are useful to the justice system because we operate with but outside the law.”

“Sharidan’s a pretty laid-back sort of chap,” added Fauna, “and the whole Tirasian Dynasty espouses the philosophy of the velvet glove, but at least on paper, the Empire is still a military dictatorship.”

“Imperial magistrates have an admirably ruthless appreciation for whatever gets the job done,” Flora agreed, “but she’s right—a Hand of Avei doing it is a whole different subject from a couple of apprentice thieves.”

“They take a very dim view of folks undercutting the power of Imperial authorities in particular.”

“Anything that smacks of rebellion, really.”

“So, no, Trissiny, we have no problem with you hogging the credit on this one,” Fauna said, grinning.

“All right, then,” Trissiny said. “You’re certain you can handle this? You’ve mentioned you’re just apprentices; I don’t want to be responsible for you getting hurt. Adding Bishop Darling to the list of people annoyed at me wouldn’t be a good move.”

“We wouldn’t have agreed to help if we weren’t confident,” said Flora.

“And I thought we’d already passed our audition,” Fauna added, “but if not…here, catch.”

Trissiny turned and snagged the object the elf tossed out of the air, then frowned. “…this is my coin purse.”

“Sure is. Have I made my point?”

Flora rose gracefully to her feet and joined her compatriot. They bowed in unison, smiling cheekily. “You’ll be hearing from us as soon as the job’s done. Hope you’re not a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m not one to care overmuch about money,” said Trissiny grimly, looking into her coin purse, “but I had a little more silver than this.”

“Consider that a fee,” said Fauna cheerfully. “Not for the job—that’s just our civic duty—but for summoning a couple of thieves and then impugning our skills.”

“See you soon!” Flora chirped, and they set off down the stairs at a good pace that wasn’t too efficient to disguise an obvious swagger. The two students watched them depart.

“Man,” Gabriel said at last, “you make friends everywhere you go, don’t you?”

 

“Well. Well well well well well well!”

Shook froze, stiffening. Beside him, her arm tucked through his, Kheshiri shifted to look over her shoulder at the voice from behind them.

Strolling through the courtyard wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time, but he was running out of ways to keep himself occupied, and in any case needed some time to think. Even Vandro’s endless supply of amenable girls were losing some of their novelty, largely because Shook had become rather spoiled by having a woman on hand who obeyed without question, refused him nothing, never complained about her treatment and always came back for more. He was now wondering if this was just the natural side effect of having a captive succubus or if Kheshiri was deliberately messing with his head. He’d told her to be quiet, so there was little harm in having her along while he contemplated her wiles. Anyhow, it made her happy; she’d actually been acting jealous of him and the time he spent around other women, which was almost endearing.

Slowly, he turned to face the speaker, who was framed in the open gate to the villa’s grounds, hands on her hips, wearing a particularly shit-eating grin.

“Look who’s out and about and not in jail,” Arachne Tellwyrn said brightly. “Those Guild lawyers really know their stuff. And Kheshiri! Someone finally let you out of your bottle, I see.”

Kheshiri, who was in her standard mortal disguise, scowled in blended puzzlement and irritation. “Excuse me? Have we met?”

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t know I was watching… Well, never mind, that’s all ancient history. Whatever are you doing with this galoot?”

“And why wouldn’t I be?” the succubus asked, twining both of her arms around Shook’s and resting her chin on his shoulder, smirking. “He’s a demigod in the sack.”

Tellwyrn snorted loudly.

“May I fucking help you?” Shook grated.

“Why, Jerry, you found us an elf!” Alan Vandro exclaimed, strolling up to them with a cocktail in one hand. “Why don’t you introduce us? I see you two have met.”

Shook wasn’t quite sure what Vandro did with his time when the man was out of his sight, but this was not the first time he’d seen his host appear as if by magic in time to prevent a tense situation from going sour. Vandro described his estate as a haven of fun and relaxation, and it seemed he had the will and the means to prevent anyone from ruining the atmosphere.

“Alan Vandro,” Shook said tensely, not taking his eyes off the new arrival, “this is Arachne Tellwryn.”

At that, Vandro actually looked startled. “Wait—really? Are you sure? The Tellwyrn?”

“The the herself,” Tellwyrn said dryly. “Good, you’re the fellow in charge of this joint. I understand you like to throw a lot of frivolous parties.”

“Why, yes I do!” Vandro said, beaming. “Some of the best and most frivolous people in the province put in appearances at my little shindigs, but I must say you would be an honored guest indeed.”

“Uh huh,” she said, deadpan. “I’m looking for someone who’s been loitering in this city, likely crashing the most hoity-toity events being held, if I know him. Unfortunately I’m having the damnedest time tracking him down, as just mentioning his name seems to make people wet themselves and slam the door in my face.”

“Oh. Really?” Vandro frowned thoughtfully. “You’re looking for Zanzayed the Blue?”

“Ah,” she said with satisfaction, “then he is here?”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Vandro replied, grinning. “I’m having one of my asinine little get-togethers two nights hence and I’ve already ordered all his favorite hors d’oeuvres. It’ll just break my little heart if he doesn’t come.”

“You want him to come?”

“Are you kidding?” Vandro grinned even more broadly, idly swirling his drink. “Everyone practically shits themselves at learning they’re in a room with a dragon. Ever seen a bunch of rich, powerful assholes in that sweet moment when they learn they are not the biggest, baddest thing around?”

“Frequently,” she said with a reminiscent smile.

“Glorious, isn’t it?”

“Definitely has its points.”

“Yeah, Zanzayed was still in the city last I heard, but there’s no telling how much longer he’s going to stay. Apparently things went sour with that noblewoman he was trying to work over. If I were him, I’d find the place serving the most free drinks and put them out of business, but who can say how dragons think?”

“Mm. As long as the drinks are of good quality, served by pretty girls in the company of well-dressed nobles…that’s more his scene.” Tellwyrn sighed, glancing around the courtyard. “Day after tomorrow, then? Damn it all, I’d really hoped to have this dealt with faster than that, but there’s just no running him to ground when he doesn’t want to be…”

“Well, now, I’d hate for you to have come all this way only to leave disappointed,” Vandro said magnanimously. “We’ve got all kinds of room, and it’s full of absolutely tasteless amounts of luxury. Why not stay and enjoy my hospitality until you find your friend?”

“What?!” Shook burst out. “Alan, have you lost your mind? This creep lives to wreck other people’s business!”

“Jerry, son,” Vandro said, suddenly tense, “let’s not be needlessly provocative with the charmingly eccentric archmage.”

“The hell with it,” Shook snapped. “If she decides to incinerate everyone or turn me into a lawn sculpture, she’ll just fucking up and do it, and there’s not much anybody can do to stop her. I’ll be damned if I’m giving her the satisfaction of seeing me cringe and grovel first.”

“Why, Mr. Shook,” Tellwyrn said with a little smile. “You’d best be careful; keep showing that kind of backbone and I’ll find myself respecting you. Then I’ll be really annoyed.”

He just glared at her. Kheshiri, wisely, remained silent.

“There, see? All friends!” Vandro said cheerfully. “What do you say, ma’am? My home is yours as long as you need it.”

“Very generous,” Tellwyrn said skeptically. “What’s the catch?”

“Well,” Vandro said, stepping over and placing a hand at the small of her back, gently ushering her toward the main house. For a wonder, Tellwyrn let herself be ushered. “I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me clumsily trying to get into your pants.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I’m over-ambitious, y’see, and not terribly bright.”

“I believe you.”

“Honestly, hon, it’s not even that you’re my type, but… The bragging rights. You understand.”

“Quite.”

Shook, staring after them, clenched his fists until his knuckles crackled under the strain.

 

“You look like hell,” Gabriel noted.

“Nice to see you too,” Toby said wryly, massaging the back of his stiff neck and glancing around the lounge. Dusk was falling; the dim light from the windows had taken on a reddish tint. “Where is everyone?”

“Ruda is downstairs in the common room and looks like she plans to make a night of it; the lads just trooped down to join her. But you probably knew that. Shaeine and Teal took off for the embassy hours ago, and I suspect they found something a lot less official to occupy themselves after that. Fross and Trissiny went for a walk—well, a walk and a hover, I guess. About time, too, she was pacing like a caged tiger and looking about as friendly.”

“I assume you don’t mean Fross,” Toby said, grinning.

“Good catch, smartass. And of course, you know where Juniper is.”

Toby sighed heavily. “I’m ridiculously tired for as little as I’ve actually done all day.”

Gabriel shut the book in his lap, moved it to the low table and set down the clipboard with the paper on which he was writing on top of it. “I don’t think so. You’ve basically been holding yourself at maximum tension waiting for the hammer to fall all day. That’d exhaust anyone. And seriously, man, I know I say this a lot but right now you specifically need to lighten up.”

“I know,” Toby groaned, leaning against the wall. “So you keep telling me. And it’s not even that I disagree…”

“But…?” Gabe prompted.

He sighed. “I just… I don’t understand her.”

“She’s a fairy, man. You’re not supposed to understand her.”

“Yeah, but it’s…” Toby sighed again. “Tastes like pig. You know?”

“She’s not gonna start hunting people in the streets,” Gabe said. “You know the rules she’s operating under.”

“It’s not that. Something’s bothering her, and… With most people, I’m good at working out what’s wrong and helping if I can. Lots of them just need someone to listen. But with Juniper… I can’t read her. One minute she’s just this naïve, good-hearted girl who’s kind and cheerful and I know exactly where I stand, and the next she’s something terrifyingly alien. That’s what’s weighing on me. If she does snap and start… Well, I don’t know how to see it coming.”

“Toby, I hate to say it, but you’re probably making it worse.”

“Worse?”

“Seriously, you’re just pissing her off at this point. I really don’t think we have anything to worry about unless something specifically sets her off. Which you’re kind of doing.”

Toby frowned. “She told you that?”

“No, I haven’t talked to her since this morning. But she told us all she wants some space to herself with no people around, and you then spent the whole day hovering. Come on. How would you feel?”

“That’s…well, crud, you’re completely right.” Toby leaned his head back, thunking it against the wall. “Uh, I’m an idiot.”

“You’re overburdened with the cares of others,” Gabriel said wisely. “Sometimes, my friend, you’ve gotta let people make their own mistakes.”

“Well, it seems to have worked with you.”

“Exactly!” Gabe said cheerfully. “In any case, just…go relax, man. Take a nap, go down and hang with Ruda and the boys. Something to take your mind off all this.”

Toby glanced at the short hall which terminated in the narrow stairwell that led to the roof. “I don’t… Finchley, Rook and Moriarty only agreed to take a break because I said I wouldn’t leave her unwatched.”

“You’re not,” Gabriel assured him. “I will sit in this room until she either comes through and goes to bed or you come back out. Fair?”

“I…yeah. Thanks. In fact, a nap sounds like a really good idea. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Or, don’t try again. Try leaving her alone for a while.”

“I’ll think about it,” Toby muttered, turning and shuffling into their room and shutting the door gently behind him.

Gabriel shook his head and reached for his book again.

“Psst.” He looked up to find Juniper peering around the corner from the roof access hall at him. “Is he gone?”

“Uh…he’s in there, getting some sleep. Are you okay?”

She was still in her human guise, but had dispensed with all the mandated outer garments. After spending the whole day on the privacy of the roof, she was soaked with sleet, her hair wind-blown, sopping wet and actually twisted into odd shapes by patches of frost. Freezing water dripped down her, plastering her sheer sundress very distractingly to her skin. Despite all that, she didn’t seem at all uncomfortable.

“I’m fine,” Juniper said crossly. “I just wanted a little time to myself. There aren’t many plants in this city, and the only animals are humans. It’s all so…weird. Hard to center myself.” She sighed, turning to stare gloomily out the windows.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Gabriel inquired, getting up and walking over to join her.

Juniper shrugged. “I’ve never understood this thing where people ask about asking. If you’re curious, ask. No harm in that.”

“It’s about respecting your feelings,” he said with a smile. “Giving you a chance to cut off the conversation if you don’t want to talk.”

“Oh. Well… I guess that makes sense. That’s actually very considerate.” She turned to give him a bright smile. “What did you want to know?”

“Well, it’s… A little awkward, I’m not sure how to…”

“Gabriel, you have had your penis in every part of me where it would fit. Seriously, just spit it out. I’m not gonna be shocked.”

He flushed deeply, then cleared his throat. “It’s just, if this weren’t a school sanctioned trip, if there were no rules… I’m just trying to figure out where we stand. Would you actually…y’know…eat me?”

“Of course not!” she exclaimed, looking scandalized.

Gabriel un-tensed a bit. “Okay. Yeah, I figured, but I just…”

“I mean, no offense, Gabe, but nothing eats demon. Blech. I realize you’re only half, but I can smell it on you, and… Yeah, it’s not unpleasant, you know, but definitely not appetizing.”

He had re-tensed while she spoke. “I…see. Um. What about the others?”

“Others? Our classmates?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged, looking back out over the street. “Well, mother forbids us eating elves, so that rules out Trissiny and Shaeine. And Fross is basically a little clump of pure magic; no nutritional value except to other pixies.”

“And…” He paused to swallow heavily. “Ruda? Toby?”

“Sure,” Juniper said nonchalantly. “I mean, I’d have to be hungry. Not just peckish, but seriously needing nutrition. Otherwise I’d must rather keep them alive. I like Ruda and Toby. Even when he’s being an annoying mother hen.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand how you can think that way,” Gabriel said very carefully. “They’re… They’re your friends. Wouldn’t you miss them if they were gone?”

“Of course I would,” she said patiently. “And I will, when they die. Which they will. You’re all going to die, eventually, and when you do, something will be nourished by your flesh. I would think you’d care enough about me to prefer that would be me than some random bunch of microbes.”

“I, um… You should know there’s a kind of a disconnect there,” he said. “This kind of talk really bothers people.”

“You asked!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I did,” he said soothingly, “and I appreciate you clearing it up for me. It’s just gonna be hard to…process. For humans, caring about someone… Loving someone means you wouldn’t eat them.”

“Oh, you people and your taboos,” she said, scowling. “Your laws and customs, and stupid square buildings and fences and domestications and all these completely arbitrary, made-up rules that don’t mean anything but you act like they’re the center of the world!” Juniper’s voice rose steadily while she spoke, until she finally slapped a hand against the windowpane. The whole thing rattled in its housing, but thankfully didn’t break. Gabriel began easing backward away from her. “I’m just so tired of it! How can you live like this? You’re animals! You are all. Just. Animals! Just act like it!”

Juniper stopped, drew in a deep breath and let it out explosively. “Feh… Now I’m all tense and wound up. C’mon, let’s go have sex.”

“Um,” he said hesitantly. “I, um… It’s not that I don’t… I mean, I’ve just gained a sort of perspective about you and I, uh, I need time to think about it. I mean, I’ve kind of misjudged you, and I want to treat you fairly, and that’s gonna involve some sorting out how I really feel, and, y’know, what to do about it…”

“Gabriel,” she said impatiently, “you can do all that anytime.” A sudden, sly smile crossed her face, and she pressed forward, backing him against the wall and pushing her chest into his. Gabriel let out a soft squeak when she leaned in and nipped gently at the base of his throat. “You can do that after you spend a couple of hours enjoying every pleasure my body can give you.”

“I…well…that… Yeah, okay.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lakshmi said, smiling fondly. “You can tell me all about it on the way home.”

“Aw,” Sanjay whined. “It’s still early! I wanted to go to the park!”

“Kid, it is nearly dark. You know what kind of creeps hang around in the park at night?”

“Creeps like you?” He stuck out his tongue at her.

“Exactly,” she said, nodding solemnly. “You wouldn’t want to meet them in the dark of the night, would you? C’mon, squirt, it’s getting colder and we still have to eat. Home.”

Sanjay fell into step beside her. The sidewalks had emptied enough for them to walk together without needing to weave and dodge around other passersby. “Home was in Puna Dara,” he muttered rebelliously.

“Yeah,” Lakshmi said softly, nodding.

Sanjay looked up at her in surprise. “What, really? You’re not gonna give me some speech about how this is our new home?”

“What, this ice city?” She shuddered. “Please. Tiraas is a place, like any other. We’re Punaji, and don’t you ever forget it. But…this can be a good place. There are opportunities here we’d never have found back home. Just takes a little work and cleverness, is all. If we do our part to take care of the city, it’ll take care of us.”

“So that’s why you were in such a hurry to tell that paladin about the bomber?”

“Exactly. That, and she’s a useful person to get on the good side of.” Lakshmi patted him on the head, which was covered by a thick knitted cap. “Now c’mon, pick up those feet. I don’t wanna be out in this miserable cold any longer than we absolutely have to.”

As they passed a small newsstand, boarded up at this hour, a young woman in a thick longcoat and heavy scarf who’d been leaning against the nearby wall reading the day’s paper looked up, honing in on their conversation. She stood in silence while Sanjay and Lakshmi continued up the sidewalk, letting them get a good twenty paces ahead before folding the paper and tucking it under her arm, stepping out onto the walkway after them.

As she fell in, she carefully adjusted her collar, making sure the heavy overcoat and scarf concealed the Imperial Army insignia below. Night was falling, people were hurrying to get home out of the cold, and nobody paid any attention to her, least of all the two Punaji she followed toward their home.

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Interruption

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I apologize for this, but I’m not at all well.  My minor toothache escalated into some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in the space of one hour and has stayed that way, resisting all treatments.  My dentist has apparently not been in the office all day.

I’m making spotty progress on today’s chapter, but it’s far from done and won’t be done by my usual midnight posting time, and at this point I’m coping with exhaustion on top of agony.  The writing wasn’t going well anyway and has come to a stop.

Gonna try to see if the dentist can squeeze me in for an emergency visit tomorrow, assuming anybody’s there.  No idea why the office was closed today; maybe she’s on vacation.  If that doesn’t pan out I may suck it up and go to the emergency room.   There’s not gonna be much if any sleep for me tonight, but I’m going to try to catch a nap or two if I can.

Chapter 5 – 16 will thus be late, hopefully not too much so.  If at all possible I’ll try to have it done at some point Wednesday.  There are a lot of variables concerning how the day might go, however, few of them promising.

Thanks for your patience.

5 – 15

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On her way back, Trissiny chose to sacrifice speed for the luxury of not being gawped at by every single person she passed; to judge from the questions and pleas that were constantly shouted at her, it was her rank and station that everyone found irresistibly interesting, not the unconscious man draped over the back of her horse. Thankfully, on the way to the Temple, she’d had her prisoner as a vivid excuse for not engaging in chitchat and having to face a lot of questions to which she really had no good answers. Once there, after having deposited the soldier in the care of the Third Silver Legion and left orders concerning his treatment, she had requisitioned a heavy cloak from the quartermaster and proceeded back to Lor’naris on foot, with her armor hidden and no distinctive silver steed to draw attention.

She drew back the heavy hood as she approached the intersection where the street began to descend into the border district. Walking around in a heavy hooded cloak had been odd enough to earn her no shortage of glances, but apparently a certain amount of oddness was permissible in a city the size of Tiraas, and she’d been left alone. Now, as she brought her face back into view one of the individuals casually leaning against the wall near the mouth of the street straightened and approached her.

“Welcome back, General,” said the drow. Avrith, that was her name; she’d been briefly introduced during the episode earlier, but it had been a little hectic.

“Just Trissiny is fine,” she said with a smile. “How are things here? It looks fairly quiet.”

“Indeed,” Avrith said calmly. Many of the Lorisian drow, Trissiny had noticed, were a tad less self-contained than the example Shaeine set, but they still tended to be hard to read. She thought there was something unhappy in Avrith’s expression, but couldn’t have placed a finger on it. “We have had a very helpful visit from the city guard. They helped clean up the scene of the attempted firebombing.”

“They what?” Trissiny scowled. “…soldiers from Imperial Command, or guards you recognize from previous encounters?”

“The latter, I am afraid.”

“So, any evidence suggesting any such bombing was attempted is now safely back at the barracks, where I’m sure it’s being analyzed with all due diligence and justice will be served,” said Bob, Avrith’s husband and patrol partner. He was a tall, lean human man with sharp features who Trissiny thought might have some elven blood—or maybe her own issues were just making her oversensitive to narrow faces and physiques.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out in s heavy sigh. “I should have anticipated that. Did anyone attempt to stop them?”

“Not as such,” Avrith said with a faint smile. “Clearly, none of us have the legal authority to interfere with the guard, and it is not wise to antagonize them any more than we must.”

“Wasn’t a complete loss, though,” Bob added, grinning. “Lady Shaeine clarified that Princess Zaruda’s diplomatic immunity extends to little things, like cussing at the police. I am in awe of that girl’s vocabulary.”

Trissiny clapped a hand over her eyes. “…and she tells me not to make things worse.”

“Actually, Trissiny, there is some potential good news,” said Avrith, pausing to nod to the two drow standing guard on the other side of the street. “It’s easier demonstrated than explained, however, if you’ll follow me?”

“Lead on.”

 

The shop to which they led her was labeled “A Trick of the Light,” which didn’t tell Trissiny anything about what it sold. It didn’t immediately become clearer once they were inside, though she did appreciate the relative warmth. The only items she recognized were on a small rack of shelves near the door, things she’d have expected to find in Elspeth’s shop, which she could identify mostly thanks to Yornhaldt’s class. Arcane power crystals, vials of glittering enchanting powder, spell parchment and charged ink, even pre-forge metal filaments suitable for use as arcane conductors in complex magical instruments.

Everything else was a mystery, though. The rows and stands of equipment made no sense to her; they looked more like pieces of disassembled telescopes than anything. At least half the shop appeared to be some kind of art gallery, with banks of drawings or paintings on display. Quite a lot were slightly fuzzy, and all were in a peculiar range of sepia tones.

Gabriel, Ruda and Fross were present, all studying the pictures, though they looked up when Trissiny entered with Avrith and Bob. The shop was quite well-lit, with very good modern fairy lamps, so Fross’s glow didn’t have much effect on the lighting even when she zipped excitedly over to Trissiny.

“Welcome!” exclaimed the shopkeeper, approaching Trissiny before she had the chance to greet her classmates. The woman was a half-elf—of the obvious variety, with the ears and everything—dressed in jarringly loud fabrics that made her stand out in this sea of sepia. “Welcome to the future! It’s an honor to host you in my humble shop, General Avelea. Take a look around! I’m sure you’ll appreciate the tactical value in what I have to offer!”

“Ah,” Trissiny said intelligently.

“I am Arpeggia Light, enchantress and innovator, dweller on the cutting edge of progress! My authentic Light-brand lightcappers are the best to be had, hand-crafted by myself and guaranteed to capture the clearest, crispest pictures available, or your money back!”

“…oh?”

“Just think!” Arpeggia exclaimed, making a sweeping gesture with both hands that encompassed her entire peculiar stock. “Images of enemies and positions, frozen in time with the flick of a switch! In this room you see the birth of a whole new form of art, soon to revolutionize every aspect of mortal society. Behold the future!” She finished with both arms outspread, beaming ecstatically.

“Do you by any chance know an Admestus Rafe?” Trissiny asked hesitantly.

Ms. Light dropped her arms and her smile. “Okay, seriously. Why do you kids keep asking me that?”

“Hey, roomie,” said Ruda, grinning. “Bout time you made it back.”

“Where are the others?”

“Shaeine went to speak to the folks at the Narisian embassy, and Teal went along because they are attached at the hip.” Gabriel’s tone was light, but his expression solemn and a little tired. “Juniper…is boycotting the human race at the moment.”

“Um… What?”

“I think she’s just overstimulated,” Fross chimed. “Tiraas has more people and less greenery than she’s ever seen in one place. It’s gotta be a lot to take in! I’m having a great time!”

“She’s on the roof of the inn, enjoying the cold,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “The privates are staying nearby because…well, they have to. And Toby’s guarding the ladder to the roof like a gargoyle. He’s got it into his head Juno is one more little disappointment from some kind of apocalyptic tantrum.”

Trissiny frowned. “What do you think?”

“Me?” He looked surprised.

“I realize there may not have been much talking,” she said dryly, “but what with one thing and another, you’ve probably spent the most time with her.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “Fross is right. She’s just adjusting. But…that’s not a bad thing, it’s what she needs to do. June’s got a very good handle on her own needs; if she wants a day of quiet, I say she should take one, and no cause for worry. If anything, I’m more concerned about Toby. He gets like this sometimes, when he’s afraid something bad is going to happen.”

“He feels responsible for everybody,” Fross said knowingly. “Poor boy’s gonna give himself a heart attack or something. I read about those. They sound painful.”

Avrith cleared her throat.

“Right, yes, sorry,” said Trissiny. “What was it you wanted to show me?”

“Thanks to Peggy’s lightcappers and willingness to donate her time,” said the drow, “we have a visual record of the guards removing the firebombing materials from that alley.”

“Avrith’s idea, she’s the strategic mind around here,” said Peggy, grinning maniacally. “I’ve got the prints developing in the back! We have those bastards dead to rights!”

“Wait,” said Trissiny, turning to look at the wall of brownish pictures. “You can actually take visual records with these devices?”

“It’s actually pretty awesome,” said Ruda. “Yeah, it captures an image of whatever it’s pointed at. Seems our new neighbors here were expecting some underhanded fuckery from the guards and set themselves up to catch it on paper. Peggy set up camp on a roof across from that alley and capped everything the guards did.”

“These are a new enough form of enchantment that nobody thinks to account for them,” Peggy admitted, “yet. But! They have already been held up in courts as admissible evidence! I’ve actually got the records somewhere around here…”

“That’s brilliant!” Trissiny exclaimed.

“I know!” Peggy cried.

“But it’s not going to be enough.”

Everyone in the room deflated slightly, even Avrith.

“Why the hell not?” Ruda demanded.

“What you’ve got is evidence of the guards removing dangerous materials from a crime scene,” Trissiny said, frowning and beginning to pace back and forth. “Which is part of their job. It builds toward the case we’re making about their corruption and abuse of power, but it isn’t conclusive. It doesn’t prove that one of theirs set the bomb in the first place.”

“Isn’t that the Sisters’ job from this point?” asked Gabriel. “I mean, that’s why you took him down there, right?”

“They won’t be able to hold him for long,” Trissiny admitted. “Legally, the Sisters can assist in criminal and judicial proceedings, and with as many Avenists as there are in the courts we’re often given a lot of leeway, but the letter of the law is they can only hold a suspect until the actual police take custody of him or her. There’s usually not much hurry, but in this case…”

“In this case, the fuckers will want their boy back ASAP,” said Ruda. “Fuck.”

“I took him to the Temple in the hope that a confession can be extracted,” said Trissiny grimly, “but he was already showing signs of being stubborn when he woke up. A man in his position knows the law and knows the guards’ policies; he only has to sit there for a few hours refusing to talk. There’s no real pressure on him.”

“What, don’t you Legionnaires have interrogators or something?” Gabriel asked. “With the thumbscrews and the dripping water and all that?”

“We don’t use torture,” Trissiny snapped. “It’s unjust, and also ineffective. A person who breaks under torture just says whatever they think will make the pain stop, which is not necessarily true or useful. Yes, we do have methods of breaking resistant prisoners, but they involve building rapport and using a lot of careful manipulations, which takes time. I made sure there would be no hurry for the Sisters to report they have the man in their custody, but something tells me the local barracks will know about it pretty soon anyway.”

“So…this was all for nothing?” Peggy looked positively crushed.

“It’s a start, as I said,” Trissiny reassured her. “It’s part of the puzzle. We still have a long way to go. If only I could get at the barracks’s records!”

“Pfft,” Ruda snorted. “You think they made a log of their illegal arson attempt?”

“Not that specifically, obviously! But the Army, like everything else in the Imperial government, runs on paperwork. There’ll be something. Avrith, these guards… Have they shown signs of being generally corrupt aside from trying to push you around?”

“In fact, they seem to have been relatively upstanding,” Avrith said calmly. “Racist, impolite and overbearing, but we have heard no complaints of illegal activity on their part, and I assure you we have looked for it. This event is the first thing I have ever heard from the local barracks that pushed past the boundaries of the law.”

“That’s…good,” Trissiny mused. “It means they won’t be practiced at covering their tracks. That oil and enchanting dust came from somewhere and likely wasn’t stolen. It wasn’t purchased on a guard’s salary, either; I’ll bet it was supplied by the barracks out of its operational budget. There may be other things, adjustments to shifts and schedules that explain why that man was here at this time.”

“You really think they were dumb enough to send a guard who was on duty?” Ruda said scornfully.

“Probably not,” Trissiny acknowledged. “But the Army feeds on records the way fire needs fuel. There’ll be something.”

“So, you want some unnamed records, you’re not even sure what, which you can’t get at in the first place because not only are they locked up in a barracks full of guards who specifically are pissed at you, but you won’t be able to use anyway if you managed to get them, because you’re trying to build a legal case and stealing paperwork pretty much undercuts the whole point.” Ruda shook her head. “Gotta tell you, Shiny Boots, this doesn’t seem like a real useful line of inquiry.”

Gabriel cleared his throat hesitantly. “Um, I’m not an expert on the law, but… If we could find and get those records, and if they proved the guards were up to something illegal… Wouldn’t they still be admissible in court?”

“Yes,” said Trissiny firmly. “There’s a precedent for that, and for the forgiveness of any charges relevant to acquiring the evidence in question. Anyway, we don’t strictly need to build an airtight case. If it looks like we’ve nearly got one, that will motivate Imperial Command to step in and remove the corrupt regiment before a group of citizens ends up putting a black mark against them in the courts. The newspapers alone would have a party with that if it got out.”

He nodded. “All right, then… I may have an idea.”

“An idea?”

“Of how to get those records.”

Trissiny frowned. “…go on.”

“I sort of…know somebody who knows somebody. Ruda said you made some kind of understanding with an Eserite Bishop, right?” At her nod, he continued. “Well, Elspeth down at the enchanting shop is in good with the Thieves’ Guild. I mean, she hasn’t come out and said it, but she’s hinted.”

“She is,” said Bob. He shrugged when everyone turned to look at him. “Everyone in the district knows it. You need to get a message to the Guild, Elspeth’s your girl.”

“Really,” Trissiny mused. “She’s self-righteous enough I wouldn’t expect her to be into anything illegal.”

“She is not involved in anything remotely illegal,” said Avrith. “In fact, due to her condition, her premises are inspected regularly by the Church and the Empire. Everything that happens in that shop is scrupulously aboveboard. Such an establishment is extremely useful to an organization like the Guild for a variety of reasons. She is not prone to involving herself in city events, however, or making use of her contacts on behalf of others.”

“I think she’d do me a favor,” said Gabriel. “Especially if I can honestly say Bishop What’s-His-Name—”

“Darling,” Bob supplied with a grin.

“Right, him. He’s tacitly signed off on this.”

“I am hesitant to involve thieves for all kinds of reasons,” Trissiny said, grimacing.

Gabriel shrugged. “You want to get something out of a locked barracks, who better?”

“Okay, wait a sec,” said Ruda. “Trissiny, a word in your ear, please?”

Trissiny let the pirate lead them over to a corner while Gabriel engaged the others in conversation. “You realize this is kind of pointless, right? Avrith and possibly Peggy can hear everything we’re saying.”

“These Narisians practice respect like it’s their religion,” said Ruda. “Unless we start plotting her murder, Avrith won’t hear anything she doesn’t think is her business. Look, Shiny Boots, I get that you’re wanting to help these people, and I’m with you on that, but come on. You’re actually considering launching operations against the Imperial Army. Who died and made you Horsebutt?”

“Not the Army,” Trissiny said patiently. “One corrupt fragment of it, which is only a problem because General Panissar isn’t motivated to get off his rump and do something about it. The law is on our side.”

“Yeah, that’s one interpretation,” Ruda said skeptically. “But remember that guy in the street said the General was coming down on them? Which he might not have done if you hadn’t lit a fire under him—that’s a pretty quick turnaround, considering he didn’t know this was going on before last night. This all started getting really interesting when you started putting the pressure on.”

“Are you saying this is my fault?” Trissiny exclaimed, forgetting to lower her voice.

“Don’t be stupid,” Ruda said sharply. “This would all have come to some kind of a head sooner or later, we all know that. There’s no guessing what might have happened if you hadn’t gotten involved. But the reality is, shit started going down pretty much exactly when you stepped in. I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Well, what’s your suggestion, then?” Trissiny demanded. “Do nothing?”

“Not nothing,” Ruda said, shaking her head. “C’mon, Boots, you know me better than that. Just… Look, maybe I’m the one being irrational, but I’ve got a feeling you’re not being as careful about this as you could be. You don’t have to save the day yourself, you know. Why not see what resources the Lorisians have to solve their own problems?”

“That is precisely what we’re doing,” Trissiny said firmly. “Including their connections to the Thieves’ Guild. Believe me, Ruda, I am not looking to start a war with the guard. All we have to do is collect the necessary evidence, and this can still be put to rest quietly.”

“If you say so,” said Ruda, doubt plain on her face.

“Gabriel,” Trissiny said more loudly, turning and striding back to the rest of the group, “let’s have a word with your friend.”

“Ah…” He winced. “Actually, Triss, it might be better if you don’t come.”

 

“So, for our discussion that is to be kept private from the ears of a ranking member of the cult of Eserion, you bring us here.” Weaver dragged an expressive gaze around the Imperial Casino’s attached restaurant. “This just might be one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard of. Just to put that into perspective for you, I’ve spent the last few years dealing with college students and their rich parents.”

“I know!” Billie said, grinning cheerfully. She was barely head and shoulders above the table, but didn’t seem put off by the size of everything. “It’s so stupid, it’s brilliant!”

Joe was studying Billie sidelong, fascinated and trying not to obviously stare. She was the first gnome he’d been around in person, and she was so different. Elves were delicately built, but aside from their ears, they could potentially be very fine-boned humans in appearance, albeit with rather big, childlike eyes. Dwarves, too, were broad and stocky, not to mention short, but could have fallen at the extreme ends of the human body type.

Gnomes, if Billie was a typical example, came from entirely different stock. The proportions were all wrong: her arms were a hint too long, her legs too short, her skull a smidge too large, none enough to be striking but enough to register on Joe’s mathematical awareness. It was hard to make out, fully clothed as she was, but it also seemed her muscles and ligaments attached and moved in ways that weren’t quite right. Gnomish women had a reputation for curvaceousness, and while Billie wasn’t particularly buxom he could see where the idea came from. Her short frame was wider from side to side but proportional from front to back; that, and her spine had a deeply sinuous curve that made her seem far more rounded than she was. There was also the faintest elongation of her nose and lower jaw—not that she had a muzzle, but that she might be descended from something which had. The ears which poked up through her dense mop of hair were pointed but also tufted, more like a cat’s than an elf’s, and it was hard to tell with her frizzy mane in the way, but they seemed to move of their own volition from time to time.

He averted his gaze, determined not to stare, and caught McGraw watching him. The old man smiled faintly, turning his attention back to the conversation.

“Anybody who uses that argument is only one of those things,” Weaver was saying.

“Thanks!” Billie said brightly.

“That wasn’t—no, nevermind, fuck it. Where’s that girl with our drinks?” he grumbled, slouching in his chair and folding his arms.

“Actually, it’s not a bad idea,” said Mary. Being technically a public enemy, she had applied a little glamor, turning her hair a typical elven blonde, though her attire was still drawing stares. “The measures we would need to undertake to really keep Darling out of our business would be borderline hostile in their intensity. We must simply trust that he will choose to grant us space to speak in private. Meeting here is an expression of that trust.”

“You seem more acquainted with the man than the rest of us,” said McGraw. “In your opinion, is that trust warranted?”

“He is what he is,” she replied calmly. “A thief is a thief, no matter the scale on which he operates. But Darling is an intelligent thief, who knows when pushing will not serve his interests.”

“Which is a roundabout way of saying…what, exactly?” Weaver raised an eyebrow.

“In this case,” said Mary, “I think he will grant us our space. In general, I think he will treat us respectfully. I am not, however, comfortable broadly describing the man as trustworthy.”

“That sorta brings us to the topic at hand, doesn’t it?” said Joe. “I’ll be honest: whatever reputation I have, I’ve been on exactly one adventure in my life and it ended last week. The rest of the time I was just protecting my town. Being admittedly over my head, here, I’m very interested in hearing what y’all think of Darling’s proposal.”

“He’s full of it,” Weaver grunted.

“Hell yes he is,” Billie said easily, “but like Mary says, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna screw us over. An honest person might up and do any damn thing at all if they’re pressured; a really good trickster doesn’t lie if he can help it.”

“Seems…counterintuitive,” Joe said carefully.

“Yup!” The gnome grinned up at him. “All the really good stuff is.”

At that moment, a young woman in the tight uniform of the Imperial Casino approached their table, bearing a tray laden with drinks. “Here we are,” she said cheerfully, setting each in front of its patron, and glanced at the menus, most of which were still lying unopened on the table. “Had a chance to decide what you’d like to order?”

“Hello, yes,” Billie said, suddenly all business. “We’re still contemplating meals, but on the recommendation of my very good friend Mr. McGraw, here, we’d like an appetizer plate of fried calamari with Punaji curry sauce. And I would like to bury my face in your cleavage, please.”

Joe choked on his orange juice.

“That’s not on the menu,” the waitress said with amusement, reaching down to ruffle Billie’s hair. “One calamari platter coming up.”

“Just as a point of reference,” said McGraw in a somewhat strained tone as the girl sashayed away, “everyone working here is technically in the employ of the Thieves’ Guild. Some of the servers and guards and such are actually apprentices, who answer to individuals I really don’t want irritated with me. So can we keep the harassment of the staff to a minimum, please?”

“Yes, I am,” Billie said seriously. “That was the minimum. So, Joe! What was this one and only adventure of yours?”

“Had to go to the center of the Golden Sea,” he said noncommittally. After a moment’s silence, he looked up from his orange juice to find them all staring at him. “…what?”

“The center of the Golden Sea?” Weaver demanded. “It has a center? I call bullshit.”

“No one has ever been there,” said Mary. “It was thought to be unreachable, if indeed it even existed.”

“Oh,” he said thoughtfully. “Might have had something to do with the company I was keeping. The Shifter needed to get there and needed an escort to do any necessary shootin’. There’s a kind of dimensional portal in the center; she used it to leave this world.”

“Wait, you know the Shifter?” Billie exclaimed. “Just what the hell kind of town is Sarasio?!”

“The Shifter left the world?” Mary frowned. “That makes little sense. The Shifter is in all worlds; that’s the whole point of her.”

“What the hell is a Shifter?” Weaver demanded.

Joe sighed and shrugged. “I wasn’t claiming to understand the details. You’d have to ask Jenny, which as I just indicated isn’t really an option anymore. Some folk from the Imperial Army were after her; apparently the situation was a little rich for her blood. Anyway, we’re getting off topic, here. Not that I’m averse to swapping stories sometime, but we were discussing whether we’re going to take Darling’s deal.”

“I am,” said Billie with a shrug, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Pay’s good and it’s not morally abhorrent; that’s all I really ask out of life. Plus, dragon! Always wanted to fight a dragon.”

“There are cleaner ways to die,” Weaver said, curling his lip.

“Pfft, who wants to die cleanly? Cowards and lazy people, that’s who.”

“Well, you can sign me up for both,” he said, toying with his own drink but not lifting it to his mouth. “This isn’t even the kind of job I’d normally consider; if it wasn’t for what he’s offering, I wouldn’t even be having this conversation. For all that, it’s not the job that leaves me uncertain, but what it implies.”

“That, I think, is the real issue before us,” said McGraw. “I might be mistaken—it wouldn’t be the first time—but what Darling implied about the Church looking to recruit or destroy everyone left in our loose little fraternity of wandering souls… Well, that smacks to me of the end of an era.”

“The Age of Adventures has been over for centuries,” Weaver said dismissively.

“Has it?” McGraw leaned his head back to stare down his nose at the younger man. “The word ‘adventurer’ may be synonymous with ‘grandstanding fool’ these days, but the very fact that people find the need to seek other terms for the likes of those of us at this table proves there’s still a place for us in the world. If the Archpope has his way, that’s about to change.”

“It sounds to me like this matter is the sticking point,” said Joe. “Those of us who’re uncertain whether to go for the deal are worried about those longer-term implications, not about this job in particular. Right?”

“Pretty much,” Weaver said reluctantly. “I mean, it’s a crap job, but… Darling’s got us by the short ones there, if he can actually back up his promise.”

“He strikes me as a man too intelligent to make promises he couldn’t back up to the likes of us,” said McGraw.

“I agree,” Mary nodded.

“Then that’s our point of contention,” said Joe. “Mary, you know Darling better than most of us, and you’re the oldest person here by a pretty huge margin. What do you think?”

She cocked her head to one side, a strikingly birdlike gesture. “Great powers rise and fall; the Church itself will not endure forever. I agree with Elias; the Archpope’s plans, if brought to fruition, would severely hamper our ability to move. I, as I have no intention of serving his ambitions, would be forced to lie low for however many centuries it would take for the political structure of Tiraas to collapse. In the long term, however, they always do. This is not without precedent; in the days of the Heroes’ Guild, a similar situation prevailed. All things pass.”

“It’s a pretty well permanent state of affairs for those of us who aren’t immortal,” Weaver commented.

“Oh?” Mary turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “Can you actually die, Gravestone? Will you?”

He only grunted and took a drink.

“What are you going to do?” Joe asked, staring at Mary.

“I will take the deal,” she said, calm as ever. “In this matter, Antonio Darling can be relied upon, because his nature and his interests align with my goals. And those of each of you, if I may assume that none of you wish to either retire or work for the Church.”

“Until this week, I was retired,” Weaver complained.

“And the other option?” McGraw asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hell with that. If the only option is doing Justinian’s dirty work, I’m goin’ right back to Last Rock and my nice, quiet library.”

“Yeah, I think we’re pretty much all in agreement on that,” said Billie cheerfully. “So the question becomes, why do you think throwing our lot in with Darling’s the best way to achieve that?”

“Darling is a priest of Eserion,” said Mary. “The former High Priest, in fact. He is also a Bishop in the Universal Church, and a high-ranking official in the Imperial government. Those loyalties contradict each other directly. The Church and the Empire feud constantly for power; the Guild’s driving force is the goal of preventing anyone from acquiring too much power. At issue is which of these alignments truly has his loyalty. In my estimation, it is that of his god.”

“How certain are you of that?” McGraw asked quietly.

“Very. I have watched him with care; he embodies the principles of Eserion’s faith in his daily life. I do not know the full extent of what Darling is planning, but his plans are not Justinian’s. I believe that when it comes down to it, he will act to undercut the Archpope. On that day, I would prefer to be at hand and involved than in some distant corner of the world, waiting to learn how my fate has been decided.”

A grim silence fell over the table. In unison, all five of them sipped at their drinks, staring into the distance.

“Hi there,” said their waitress, bustling back up to their table with a platter of steaming calimari and bowls of dipping sauce. She bent over to place it on the table, ignoring the way Billie craned her neck to get a better view. “Come to any decisions?”

Weaver sighed. “Yeah… Looks like we pretty much have.”

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5 – 14

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Joe hunched his shoulders, trying to lift up the high collar of his coat to the brim of his hat and offer his ears some protection from the Tiraan cold. The coat was new, and pleasingly thick—a necessary adaptation to the climate—but he’d lacked the foresight to invest in a scarf or gloves. The weather in Sarasio made such considerations unthinkable, and so he hadn’t thought them. He was kicking himself now.

The sidewalks in this ritzy neighborhood had been cleared of ice, so he felt safe in accelerating his pace, the better to get out of the cold as quickly as possible. Carriages and riders passed him on the road now and again, but no one else was braving the elements on foot, which spared him the effort of removing his hat should a lady pass. Manners came before comfort, but he could still be grateful that the need didn’t arise. Any other time, he might have peered around appreciatively at the graceful houses with their elegant gardens; despite having grown up in a rough town, he couldn’t help feeling that all this was much more to his taste. The girls back at the Shady Lady would give him no end of ribbing for that…

The right house wasn’t difficult to find; he’d memorized the address, the old brownstones were clearly numbered, and the street was logically laid out. The gate at the correct address was unlatched and standing open a couple of inches in unspoken invitation. Joe carefully restored it to the same position behind himself after slipping through, crossed the narrow garden in a few strides and pulled the bellrope.

He had only a couple of seconds to wait on the little porch before the door opened, revealing a young ginger-haired woman in a black-and-gray suit.

“Mr. Jenkins?” she said. “Welcome; you are expected. Do come in.”

“Ma’am,” he said politely, removing his hat as he stepped inside. Faint social discomfort nagged at him; she was obviously some sort of servant, but he wasn’t about to relax his standards with regard to the treatment of ladies. It worsened when she deftly helped him out of his overcoat; Joe tried not to shuffle his feet awkwardly as she hung it and his hat on a peg in the hall alongside several others. He was accustomed to doing for himself.

“This way, please,” she said, indicating a short hallway splitting off near the stairs to the second floor. “The Bishop and the rest of your party await.”

“I’m not late, am I?” he asked uncertainly. He’d been careful to allow himself plenty of time…

“Not at all, sir. Please, make yourself comfortable within. Refreshments shall be provided momentarily.”

Joe nodded to her and stepped warily through the indicated door. It was a well-appointed parlor with blue patterned wallpaper, tastefully furnished and just short of crowded; the group wasn’t large, but neither was the space. He had only a moment to gather impressions before his host descended upon him.

“Mr. Jenkins! I’m so glad you could come. Please, have a seat, enjoy the fire. I hope the Rail ride wasn’t excessively horrible.”

“Could’ve been worse,” he replied, carefully eying the man now vigorously shaking his hand. Antonio Darling was blond and well-groomed, wearing an open and honest expression of the kind that, in Joe’s experience, honest people seldom used. “Thanks. Hope I didn’t keep everyone waiting.”

“Well, you’re the last one here. What do you think?” The speaker was a man in a dark suit who could have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty, to judge by his face, unlined but set in a disgruntled expression that gave the impression of being habitual. He had a somewhat scruffy goatee set in a wash of five o’clock shadow, and brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail. What appeared to be a guitar case leaned against his chair.

“Oh, don’t be any more’ve a dick than you can help,” said a gnomish woman perched on the arm of the couch, reaching over to swat the man’s knee. “We’re all early; no need to criticize the boy fer bein’ the only one with the good manners to show up on time.” She grinned and winked at Joe, who smiled tentatively in response. He’d never met a gnome before. She wore what he’d have thought of as men’s work clothes, with an improbable pair of thick goggles perched atop her reddish hair.

Joe sank into the only available seat, on the couch between the gnome and the only other woman present, nodding at each of them and doing his best not to stare. The other woman was an elf; she had upward-pointing ears like the wood elves he was used to, but was dressed in the style of the plains tribes, in bleached and fringed buckskins with faintly dyed vertical patterns that would have provided camouflage in the tallgrass. Most strikingly, her hair was black. She gazed at him contemplatively for a moment before nodding back, face expressionless.

The other man present, sitting across the low table from him in another chair, nodded as well. He was an aging fellow in a ragged suit that had once been of good quality, his brown face deeply lined and fringed by a neatly-trimmed white beard. An impressive wizard’s staff leaned against the arm of his chair, inches from his hand.

“Welcome, everyone,” said Bishop Darling, returning to his own seat at the head of the table, a position from which he effectively commanded the room. “Now that we’re all here, allow me to introduce everybody! I, of course, am Antonio Darling, Bishop of the Universal Church and your host. It’s good of you all to come; I apologize for the short notice and appreciate your flexibility.”

“I’m as flexible as needed when properly bribed,” said the lean man in the black suit.

“Indeed,” replied Darling with a smile. “This, of course, is Damian Weaver. Occupying the other chair is Elias McGraw, and on the sofa, our new arrival Joseph Jenkins, the irrepressible Wilhelmina Fallowstone—”

“That’s Billie, to those who don’t want their kneecaps blasted off,” said the gnome, grinning and punching Joe in the arm. For such a tiny person, she hit hard.

“And, finally, Mary the Crow, who presumably has another name but declines to share it.”

“I offered you my name once, if you’ll recall,” said the elf mildly. “You weren’t interested.”

“Forgive me, dear, I’m not quite myself when mind controlled. By definition.” There was something icy in Darling’s smile; Mary smiled in return, evidently in complete calm. “We’ll have tea and biscuits out in just a moment, but for now, I imagine you’re all curious why I asked you to join us.”

“I might be mistaken,” said McGraw, “it wouldn’t be the first time. But given the roster you’ve assembled, I’d have to guess you want something difficult, dangerous and possibly of questionable legality accomplished.” Joe silently agreed. He had heard, of course, of every one of these people; he’d grown up on the stories of their exploits. Being intimidated by the company he kept was a new experience for him, but he found himself tongue-tied.

“The legality of what I want is something of a gray area,” said Darling with a grin, “but we’ll come to that in a moment. There’s an important background to this that you should understand before we get to discussing any specific tasks. Ah, thank you, Price.”

The girl in the suit had returned bearing a tray of tea and cookies, which she set on the low table and made a discreet exit. The Bishop began pouring tea and handing out cups as he continued.

“I’m sure you heard about the recent rash of murders in Tiraas, targeting clerics in supposedly secure areas.”

“I followed that rather closely,” McGraw said, nodding.

“I didn’t,” said Weaver. “Murders? What happened?”

“The details are gruesome and mostly irrelevant,” Darling continued, his expression solemn. “The short version is that virtually anyone associated with the Church or a major cult who was both known to be involved in some kind of shady business and had taken part in operations against the Black Wreath has been wiped out. Most were killed inside actual temples, where they by all rights ought to have been safe from warlocks or even assassins.”

“Sounds like the Wreath made themselves useful for once,” said Billie, grinning. “Is this still goin’ on? I’ve been out east for the last few months.”

“Not that I’ve heard,” said McGraw. “the assassinations trailed off a couple weeks ago. Almost as suddenly as they started.”

“What’s reasonably sure is that this was beyond the capability of the Black Wreath itself,” Darling said, folding his hands in his lap now that everyone had their tea. “If they could do stuff like that on a whim, they’d likely have been doing it for lo these many years. His Holiness the Archpope is of the opinion the Wreath contracted with high-level, extremely dangerous adventurers to do the deeds themselves. Two such, the assassin known as the Jackal and our friend Mary, here, were known to be in the city during these events.”

The five of them exchanged a round of wary glances. Well, four of them; Mary seemed calm to the point of being disinterested.

“High-level adventurers,” McGraw said at last. “A fella could almost take that for an accusation, your Grace.”

“Oh, don’t be dense,” Weaver snorted. “If he thought we were priest-killers of that caliber, he wouldn’t have put himself in a room with all of us, Butler or no Butler.”

“Lemme stop ya there,” said Billie. “’Priestkiller’ is the common name for a gnagrethyct, a particularly nasty bugger of a demon. Not something you wanna accidentally bring up in the wrong company, ‘specially when the Black Wreath is being discussed.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Fallowstone,” Weaver said with saccharine disdain. “I do so enjoy a spot of aimless pedantry with my tea.”

“Enough,” Mary said quietly. “Focus.”

“I bring this up,” Darling went on, “to explain Archpope Justinian’s newest project. There just aren’t that many adventuring types left in the world, at least not of the caliber of those of you can claim. You five represent a significant chunk of those who are still in the business, so to speak.”

“I’m out of the business,” Weaver cut in, “and I’m still waiting to hear about what you offered to tempt me back in.”

“I am coming to that,” the Bishop assured him. “His Holiness has decided that if the likes of you are still going to exist in this world, they should work for the Church, or not at all. Those who can be recruited, he plans to use to deal with those who refuse. I am responsible for executing this program.”

Another silence fell, this one colder; now, they all stared at Darling. The expressions were not friendly.

“A fella could take that for a threat,” McGraw said grimly.

“Same objection applies,” Weaver mused. “You’re not quite daft enough to threaten us all to our faces, are you, Darling?”

“Indeed,” said the Bishop with a knowing smile. “I should point out that it is Justinian’s grand idea. I am the man in charge of making it happen.”

“It’s unclear to me why that hair needs to be split,” Joe said quietly.

“Is it truly?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s not gonna just come out and say it,” said Weaver with a smug little smile. “One doesn’t just up and tell a bunch of dangerous strangers that one isn’t completely in the pocket of one’s nigh-omnipotent boss.”

“Let’s just say that my warning you all of this is a good faith offering,” Darling said smoothly. “You all know, now, which way the wind is blowing, and have some time to arrange your affairs to deal with it in whatever fashion you will. I, for my part, have a much more personal matter for which I would like to employ your skills. Justinian’s adventurer project means I can justify making the Church’s resources—and funds—available to you if you should choose to help me with this goal, and while you are officially on a Church payroll, you are assured not to be a target.”

“Uh huh,” Billie said wryly. “And once you hook us, we’re good an’ hooked. We leave, the rest hunt us down, yeah?”

“Nope,” said Weaver, pausing to sip his tea. “The hell I’m going to mix it up with any of you lot, I don’t care who’s paying or how much. And if I walk out of this deal, be it right now or after a long series of engagements together, I will go straight back to Last Rock and screw anybody who wants to try and dig me out.”

“Gonna go back to hidin’ under Arachne’s skirts, then, eh?” asked Billie with a smirk.

“First of all,” Weaver replied, looking down his nose at her, “there is no shame in taking advantage of the protection of an extraordinarily powerful and cranky individual, and second, you’d take position behind her skirts too if you knew what an exquisite little butt she has.”

“Language,” Joe said coldly. Everyone turned to stare at him. “Let’s consider what kinds of conversation are appropriate in the presence of ladies.”

They continued to stare. Finally, though, Mary smiled.

“Oh, this one is absolutely adorable,” Weaver said at last, grinning unpleasantly.

“He ain’t exactly wrong, however,” McGraw noted. “If you can’t be a gentleman, at least show a little restraint. And in any case, all this is cuttin’ into our host’s exposition, which I for one would like to hear.”

“Thank you,” said Darling gravely, his lips twitching with repressed humor. “I’m not going to make you any guarantees about what the future may hold. Suffice it to say that for right now, I’m offering the prospect of sanctuary from the Archpope’s bad list and the opportunity to profit considerably.”

“What’s the job, then?” asked Billie, cocking her head to the side.

Darling smiled beatifically. “I want to hire you to deal with a dragon.”

“Oh, hell yes!” she crowed, hopping up to stand on the couch and grinning with manic glee.

“Hell, no,” said Weaver, standing and setting his teacup on the arm of the chair. “Include me out. I have been on more than my share of suicidal exploits, thank you. There’s not enough gold in the Imperial treasury.”

“Please!” Darling held up a hand. “Everyone, please. Sit, allow me to explain. I wouldn’t presume to drag you all out here with only the offer of something as pedestrian as money. Recall that the telescrolls I sent to each of you indicated that far more valuable forms of payment would be rendered.”

“Knowledge,” Mary said quietly. Weaver and Billie sank back into their respective seats, both studying Darling very carefully now.

“Knowledge,” the Bishop said, nodding. “As a high-ranking official of the Universal Church, I have access to certain resources of an oracular nature.”

“Bullshit,” Weaver said, smiling pleasantly.

“Language,” Joe said automatically.

“Hush, child.”

Mary shifted in her seat. “He speaks truth…at least partially. The Archpopes have been accumulating oracles of all kinds for centuries; that is precisely why they are so rare in the world at large. I am surprised to learn that anyone besides Justinian himself has access to them, however.”

“That is a fairly recent development,” Darling admitted. “But think about it: my claim is its own proof. Each of you wants something, some specific piece of knowledge that, for all your skills and powers, you have not been able to acquire yourselves. Billie wants to know a location; the Kid is hunting for a name, Longshot for a method. The Crow seeks the elaborate answer to a deceptively simple question, and Gravestone wants nothing less than to spit in the eye of a major god without suffering the obvious consequences; he only needs to know how. And assuredly, none of you have let it be known what you’re all after. How, then, did I find out enough of your desires to tempt you out here?”

The Bishop leaned back in his chair, hands folded before him, wearing a smile that was half serene and half smug.

“And knowing what I seek to know,” Mary said softly, “you would still help me learn it?”

“I will, if you agree to accept my terms, do my best to uncover your answer and deliver it to you honestly and in full,” Darling said gravely. “In your case, however, I make no promises about what else I may do with that information.”

“Hm,” she mused, but spoke no further.

“I am similarly skeptical,” Weaver commented. “You described my ambitions pretty well. I’m finding it hard to believe a man of the Church would be willing to help me in that.”

“The Church, though it tends to forget this fact, is ultimately just an administrative convenience,” said Darling with a grin. “It’s there to help the various cults coordinate and avoid conflict. It’s not my god you’re looking to thwart; I don’t figure it’s any of my business how you feel or act toward other faiths.”

“And after we deal with this dragon of yours, we get our answers?” McGraw said, peering at the Bishop through narrowed eyes.

“That is the somewhat thorny issue,” Darling admitted. “I don’t know if any of you have ever tried to extract a straight answer on a factual subject from an oracle, but it’s very much like pulling teeth. Rectally.”

“Convenient,” Billie noted. “And bloody disgusting metaphor, by the way. I might just borrow that one myself.”

“Be my guest,” Darling said with a smile. “Getting your answers, in all honestly, is likely to be a longer-term project than wrangling Khadizroth.”

“Khadizroth the Green?” Weaver exclaimed. “Omnu’s balls, you don’t ask for much, do you?”

“What I mean,” Darling pressed on, “is that what I am offering does, indeed, imply a longer-term cooperation between us. For your immediate help, however, there will, as I said, be ample remuneration, provided by the Church.”

Another quiet fell.

“Tempting,” McGraw said, stroking his beard. “Very tempting. Also tricky and potentially problematic in several different ways.”

“If by that you mean it’s a big fat trap, then I agree,” Weaver said grimly. “I’ve not quite made up my mind whether the bait is juicy enough to lunge for.”

“By all means, you should take time to think it over,” Darling said smoothly. “In fact, talk amongst yourselves without me present. I do have certain time constraints, but I certainly won’t begrudge you taking the day to consider.”

“A whole day, eh?” Billie said dryly. “Well, that’s downright magnanimous of you.”

“Time is, as I indicated, a factor.”

“Welp!” She set aside her plate and hopped down from the couch; on the floor, she wasn’t tall enough to see over its back. “If we’re done here for the time being, how’s about us honored guests toddle off and have a high-level adventurin’ lunch? Seems we’ve got notes to compare.”

Weaver sighed. “Might as well, I guess.”

“I for one would welcome some additional perspective,” Joe murmured.

“Perfect!” the gnome grinned up at him. “I know just the place.”

 

“Hey there, neighbor!” Kheshiri said cheerfully, popping out of a side room.

Saduko jerked away from her, skittering almost to the opposite side of the hall, and the succubus tittered in amusement. It was a reaction of pure revulsion, not startlement—the enchantress had proven quite difficult to surprise. The demon was in her disguise as the local girl Shiri, a pretty young woman who had no apparent reason to arouse such a reaction. Luckily for Saduko, they were alone in this particular hallway.

“Why are you off your leash?” Saduko demanded coldly.

“Oh, Master’s off playing with his wands again,” Kheshiri said, pouting. “I swear, all he does anymore is gossip with Vandro and blast artificial targets. I’m just about crawling up the walls with boredom.”

“That is neither my problem nor of any interest to me,” the woman said with her customary Sifanese reserve. They weren’t quite as cold as drow, but they had stern ideas about proper behavior. “Leave me be, creature. I have no wish to interact with you outside of planning sessions.”

“Or even then?” Kheshiri asked, grinning. Saduko merely turned and strode away. “That’s a shame,” the succubus said cheerfully, falling into step behind her, “because I find you very interesting. What ever can you be up to, sneaking about the way you do?”

Saduko’s shoulders stiffened—almost imperceptibly, but Kheshiri was finely attuned to the tiniest shifts of body language. She grinned savagely, enjoying the effects of her needling. “It’s how good you are at it that caught my attention. People sneaking around clumsily are dull; they almost never lead to anything good. Just fools having affairs and stealing things, mostly. But you? No uncomfortable glances around, no awkwardness or fumbling, you just very skillfully manage to be coming and going from empty places all the time, just when nobody’s there to catch you. How very fascinating. I just can’t resist a puzzle.”

“In the courts of Kiyosan, discretion is a priceless skill,” Saduko said icily. “One must step lightly and know how to avoid attention, or one does not survive, must less prosper.”

“There, see!” Kheshiri said brightly, running a few steps to bring herself alongside the woman. “Already you’re sharing things about yourself. I feel very close to you. We’re making progress!”

“I explain the minimum that I must, because you will make trouble otherwise,” the woman snapped. “Now leave me.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. Whatever you’re after, you just might find I can help. I’m a helpful kind of girl!”

Saduko came to a stop, reached into the collar of her shirt and pulled out a necklace, a silver ankh on a thin twisted chain. She thrust this at Kheshiri, chanting a few words in Sifanese.

Kheshiri yelped and staggered backward against the wall; her facade rippled, momentarily exposing glimpses of her milky complexion and sharp features through her disguise. The shadow of wings flickered behind her for a bare second.

“That,” she snarled, “is rude.”

Saduko smiled coldly. “I attempted the polite approach first, for all that things such as you deserve no such consideration. Now leave, before I am forced to be truly insistent.”

“See you when I see you, then,” the succubus sneered, and faded into invisibiliy.

Saduko stood staring at the place where she had been for a moment, then glanced warily around the hall before turning to continue on her way.

At the next intersection, she suddenly spun, yanking out the ankh again and brandishing it, snapping out her chant.

“Dammit!” Kheshiri squawked, popping into visibility a mere few feet away and staggering backward.

“You have entirely consumed your meager allotment of my patience,” Saduko said, glaring at her. “I am also carrying a wand, creature. If I have to dissuade you from meddling a third time, I shall be forced to assume the holy symbol is insufficient for the task.”

“You are not nearly as clever as you think,” Kheshiri growled. “A smart person would make allies out of enemies, not the other way around.”

Saduko didn’t even bother to answer this time, reaching into her pocket and drawing out a short wand. Its stubby shaft couldn’t hold a large power crystal nor provide sufficient carving space for the runes that would improve its range and accuracy, but it’d be more than adequate for delivering crippling electric shocks from a few feet away.

“Fine!” Kheshiri snapped, backing away. “Your loss, bitch. When it counts, remember I made the offer.” She faded from view again, continuing to retreat as she did so.

For a moment, she feared the woman would fire the wand into the apparently empty hall for certainty’s sake, but after another few seconds of suspiciously staring about, she pocketed it again and went on her way.

The succubus, of course, followed her all the way to her room.

At the door, Saduko played her little trick with the ankh again, holding it up and delivering the singsong blessing as before. Kheshiri, waiting invisibly a few feet away, grinned in silence. Very few people ever actually encountered demons; in this age of scrolltowers, newspapers and mass-printed novels, a lot of folk had acquired some truly absurd notions in lieu of the survival knowledge their ancestors might have had. For example, when dealing with demons, faith counted for nothing; you needed power. That demanded a pact with some god or other, which it was clear that Saduko did not have.

Satisfied that she had at last driven off her pursuer, the enchantress began unlocking her door, and Kheshiri did a quick survey of their surroundings to see what she could use. Potted plants, wall hangings, windows… Ah, windows with unsecured shutters. They were in a hallway near the back of the estate; as with most places in Onkawa, the window was large and left open by default to admit a cooling breeze. Kheshiri slipped silently over to it, leaned out and took a grip on the shutter.

As Saduko opened her door, she yanked. The shutter clattered against the window frame, simulating an errant gust of wind, an illusion aided by the powerful flap of the demon’s wings, which it effectively disguised.

The children of Vanislaas were gifted with the power to shift into any shape worn by their erstwhile species—that is, they could disguise themselves only as humans. Kheshiri, never one to be content with any limitations placed upon her, had pressed the boundaries of what was acceptable and possible to the point that even those trained at handling incubi and succubi had often been completely blindsided by her tricks. In a way, that had been her downfall; ultimately, the Black Wreath had found her too interesting (and too potentially useful) to simply destroy, but far too dangerous to leave running around loose. Thus she had been cornered and bound to that damned reliquary.

Now, the thing she shifted into was human, technically—a human a bare few weeks into its earliest development cycle. Her timing was perfect: once propelled forward into the air by the beat of her wings, she shed nearly the entirety of her mass in a display that made a shameless mockery of physics, shriveling to a tiny blob of invisible flesh. Immediately she was blind, deaf and totally helpless, the zygote unable to do anything but exist, and that not for long in the open air. It wouldn’t take more than a second, however. As Saduko spun to stare at the banging shutter, the little lump that was Kheshiri sailed right over her head, through her open door and into her room.

Unable to see, she had to guess at the timing, but she was well-practiced at such dicey maneuvers. Just inside the door, Kheshiri snapped invisibly back to her true shape, spreading her wings to halt her forward momentum. There was, of course, no space to glide, but she had ample room to come to a midair halt, clasp the thick beams supporting the high ceiling and swing herself up onto it, where she crouched catlike, wings compressing against her back. Barely a second had passed; to Saduko, the tiny sound of moving air this caused was only a continuation of the same gust that had startled her in the first place.

Satisfied, the enchantress stepped into her chambers, closing and locking the door behind her, oblivious to the demoness crouching above. Kheshiri could feel the lines of power trapping the walls and windows, the spells that would alert their mistress if the door’s frame, hinges or lock were manhandled, even the few miscellaneous enchantments on the carpet ready to impede the unwary. Saduko hadn’t exaggerated her resume, clearly; she was a very competent spellcaster when it came to security. She’d neglected, however, to provide measures to warn her of anyone passing through a door that she herself had opened, and as Kheshiri had learned long ago and many times since applied to her own benefit, nobody ever looked up.

The enchantress made a quick visual check of her room, no doubt ensuring that her spells were all active. Lucky that she hadn’t added anything specifically to detect demons, especially since she knew she was sharing a house with one and clearly wasn’t happy about it. It had been a gamble, risking that, but anti-demon measures were divine magic; few arcanists had reliable tricks in that line, and hardly any of those were as young as Saduko. Kheshiri noted with some satisfaction that her room wasn’t nearly as large as Shook’s suite, nor as well-appointed.

Her smugness vanished when Saduko knelt before a small cabinet, taking nearly a minute to disarm protective spells and open it, and drew out a tiny idol. The faint, acrid crawl of nearby divinity stung her while the enchantress prayed. No priestess was she, but sincere enough in her faith that her meditations attracted some small amount of her god’s attention.

Kheshiri slunk backward as far and as silently as she could, till she was huddled against the wall, barely clinging to the beam, and poured as much concentration as she could manage into her invisibility, even reaching into her rarely-used gifts for deflecting divine detection, tricks she had learned from an unwary Elilinist warlock ages ago. She didn’t fear the bombast of Avei, the pursuit of Shaath or the various eccentricities of most of the gods, but this one… This one was savvy. He didn’t fling his power around, but he kept an eye on his people, and they were capable enough to be treated with caution.

Despite her discomfort and fear, Kheshiri’s imagination bloomed with this revelation, and with new possibilities.

People in the Empire tended to think the Empire was the world. It was understandable; in addition to being the planet’s most politically powerful government, Tiraas housed the leader and central offices of the Universal Church, as well as those of nearly all the Pantheon’s cults. It was easy to overlook the fact that the cults existed outside this continent.

Which, she reflected as Saduko tucked away her little idol of Eserion and set about re-sealing its housing, made this a wonderfully clever ploy on the part of the Thieves’ Guild; send in a foreigner to infiltrate Vandro’s operations, and nobody would think to wonder if she might be one of theirs. Even if they did, it was unlikely Vandro had the capacity to check up on her history in Kiyosan—if that was even where she came from. Saduko’s accent was right, but accents could be faked, and there were more than a handful of ethnic Sifanese born and raised in the Empire.

It seemed that Kheshiri wasn’t the only party interested in derailing the planned heist for her own benefit. She was going to have competition and no end of trouble. This whole thing had just gotten immeasurably more complicated. Even as she began pondering the problem of getting out of this room undetected and unscathed, Kheshiri grinned to herself.

Oh, the fun she was going to have.

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5 – 13

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“Are you pleased with yourselves?”

They weren’t, and his tone indicated that he knew it. Moriarty folded his arms, staring down at his two fellow soldiers with an expression that was just a shade too grim to qualify as a smirk; Rook and Finchley hunched in their seats, refusing to meet his eyes, or each other’s.

The inn’s common room was quiet this early in the morning, this not being the sort of establishment whose patrons relied on the in-house kitchen for breakfast. The party from the University had commandeered a table in one corner, and ordered a pot of tea, which the inn’s notorious cook hadn’t found a way to botch. Aside from the two privates, who were sitting somewhat limply, Toby leaned against the wall nearby, watching the stairs and ostensibly ignoring the byplay. Moriarty stood as stiffly as ever, starting to really get into his tirade.

“This is why we have regulations. This is why societies have rules, and standards of what constitutes decent behavior. The fact that you two are having an awkward morning after spending much of the night in uncomfortable proximity to one another’s junk is pretty much a best-case scenario. You do realize that, right? Not only fraternizing with with the object of your escort mission, not only indulging in I don’t even want to know what hedonistic revelry, but fooling around with a threat level eight sapient monster? In the heart of a city where the bulk of our assignment involves keeping her calm? Do you realize all the ways this could have blown up in your faces? The mind boggles.”

“The tongue doesn’t boggle, I notice,” Rook muttered.

“Oh, you want to criticize me?” Moriarty demanded acidly. “Maybe you should occupy yourselves thanking Avei there are no superior officers here to rip you a whole new set of orifices. I have half a mind to report this whole boondoggle to General Avelea!”

“I really can’t imagine anything good resulting from that,” Toby said without looking over at them.

“I suppose it’s not a worthwhile reason to bother her,” Moriarty allowed. “I’d be embarrassed on behalf of our unit, anyway.”

“Our ‘unit?’” Rook said incredulously. “You mean, the three losers who only aren’t court-martialed because it wouldn’t be worth what ImCom spent on paperwork to do it?”

“And yet, you keep testing Command’s patience,” Moriarty snapped. “By, for instance, engaging in some kind of depraved orgy with—”

“All right, enough!” Finchley exclaimed, finally lifting his stare from his cooling tea. “I would really like it if we never, ever discuss this again. Agreed?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Rook muttered, lifting his teacup.

“And if we promise not to do it again,” Finchley barreled on as Moriarty opened his mouth to speak, “will you finally freaking drop it already?”

“I suppose that’ll have to do,” Moriarty said, his expression reverting to vague smugness. “So long as you learned something from all this.”

He was spared Rook’s reply—which, to judge by the look on his face, would have been scathing—by the arrival of Fross. The pixie appeared at the base of the stairs and shot over to their table in a frantic streak of white light.

“Juniper doesn’t wanna come out today!” she announced.

Toby straightened, frowning at her. “What?”

“Yeah!” Fross bobbed up and down in midair twice. “She says she doesn’t like the city and would rather just stay in the inn.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” Toby said with a sigh.

“Uh, are you sure that’s smart?” asked Rook. “Or, um, necessary? If she wants to sleep in, I say we respect her wishes.”

“I said I’d talk to her, not try to persuade her of anything,” Toby said patiently. “If she just wants to rest, there’s no harm at all in that. But if she’s starting to get fed up with the city or the people in it… One way or another, that needs to be addressed before she decides to do something about it.”

“Fuck a duck,” Rook muttered.

“Well, so long as you two don’t take it into your heads to try to improve her mood through sexual healing again,” Moriarty began while Toby headed off to the stairs, the pixie darting around his head.

“We had an agreement!” Finchley said, pointing accusingly at him.

Moriarty snorted. “Fine, fine. You two sit here and sulk. I’m going to go procure some rations for us.”

“Have you not noticed the food here sucks?” Rook demanded.

“We’re in the army,” Moriarty shot back. “Food is supposed to suck. Living on that campus is turning you two soft.” He hesitated, then sniffed disdainfully. “Softer. I’ll be back momentarily; try not to have an orgy while I’m gone.”

They watched him go with matching expressions of disgruntlement.

“Not a word,” Finchley said after a moment.

“Right.”

“Not one word!”

“Right.”

“Ever.”

“Agreed.”

They sat in silence, staring at their now-lukewarm beverages. The sleepy common room was still and dull, the only sounds being muted conversation from the direction of the kitchen, where the inn’s cook was being introduced to Moriarty’s people skills. It was several minutes before either spoke again.

“…she gives really good—”

“Oh, yeah.”

They clinked their teacups together, grinning.

 

Gabriel had long since decided the chill of the winter morning was far less oppressive than the atmosphere in the common room, to say nothing of Private Moriarty’s nagging. It had been a good ten minutes, though, and no sign of movement from within. He tucked his hands into his pockets and hunched down to bring his ears into the protective aegis of his upturned collar; the weatherproofing enchantment on his coat was truly marvelous, but did no good for the skin left exposed to the frigid air. Cold probably wouldn’t harm him, the way it could a full human, but it certainly wasn’t his favorite thing. He was considering going back inside to wait for the rest of the group to decide they were ready to leave.

“Why, hello! Gabriel, wasn’t it?”

He looked up, blinking in confusion for a moment before he placed the figure now approaching him. The man wore a much heavier coat, which made perfect sense given the weather, but his broad black hat was distinctive, as was the long, narrow face beneath it, angular jaw lined by a thin strip of beard.

“Well, hey there!” he said with a smile. “You made it out of Sarasio!”

“Most of us did, thanks to the intervention of your group,” the man remarked, coming to a stop alongside him.

“I think maybe ‘interference’ is the word you want,” Gabriel said, grinning. “Possibly ‘meddling.’ There are adventuring traditions to be maintained, after all.”

“Pah.” The man in black waved a hand. “It’s meddling if you screw it up. Save the day and you get to be heroes. Savor that, my boy; the world increasingly seems to have little use for heroes. Had a chance to consider my advice?”

“Lots of chances,” Gabriel nodded, “and even some to practice. I have managed not to start arguments with Ruda and Trissiny on at least half a dozen occasions. It, uh… Doesn’t always come back to me in time,” he admitted, wincing.

“Well, they wouldn’t call them habits if they were easy to cast off. The effort is the important thing. It’s been a good long time since I was in school, but isn’t this during the academic semester? You haven’t dropped out, have you?”

“No such luck. We’re here on another of Tellwyrn’s jolly little field trips.”

“We?” The man raised an eyebrow. “All of you? In the city? That sounds like an utterly terrible idea.”

“Well, yes. If you want to explain that to Tellwyrn, be my guest. Just give me time to get at least three streets away, first. How about you? This seems like an odd place to run into you.”

“The place isn’t odd,” the man mused. “All roads lead to Tiraas. It’s fairly interesting that the two of us would cross paths, though; it’s not a modest-sized city by any means. In fact, you could say I’m following up on the events in Sarasio, myself. There’s an enchanting shop in this district, rather famous in some circles, run by a half-demon. Seemed like a worthwhile place to visit.”

Gabriel frowned pensively. “How so?”

The man in black regarded him in silence for a moment, his expression serious but difficult to read. “I come from a rather conservative background,” he said at last. “My…family…are quite heavily invested in certain well-trod notions about the way the world is. Lately, though, I’ve begun wondering if we might have been very wrong, all this time, about certain things. Demonbloods, just for instance.”

“That’s…maybe not an unhealthy attitude,” Gabriel said slowly. “Demonbloods are dangerous. By definition.”

“Lad, nobody isn’t dangerous. A schoolchild can ram a pencil through your eye socket into your brain and kill you in seconds.”

“That’s cheerful.”

“It’s an example. The measure of the threat a person poses is in what they do with their capacity to inflict harm. Some make a point of doing none; some devote that destructive potential to protecting the first group from the third, which are those who spread damage around wherever they think it benefits them most. The real question, then, is whether being part demon makes a person more inclined to be dangerous.” He tilted his head, dark eyes studying Gabriel piercingly. “Any thoughts on that?”

“…it’s not a simple question,” Gabe replied after a pause for thought. “For one thing, there’s more than one kind of demon.”

“Mm.” The man nodded. “Lots of complicating factors. That fact alone makes it seem somewhat foolish to dismiss all demonbloods as one category, wouldn’t you say? Particularly after speaking with you and Mistress Elspeth, I wonder if I’ve not made a right fool of myself all these years by brushing aside the half-demons I’ve encountered. Lots of possible friends and allies, never given a chance. All that wasted potential.”

“You meet a lot of half-demons?” Gabriel asked, raising his eyebrows. “Th—we aren’t exactly commonplace.”

“Oh, I travel around a fair bit,” the man said easily. “You meet all sorts, if you spend enough time circulating.”

“Hm.” Gabe shuffled his feet, which were growing chilled. His shoes, though sturdy, lacked the coat’s magical protections. “Well…I guess it’s good and all if you’re being a bit more progressive. Won’t make much difference in the long run, though. The world at large is never going to be accepting of devilkin.”

The man in black stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I was in the city for the hanging of that lady from Sarasio. The proprietress of that establishment that provided us all with room and board, and apparently instigator of the whole uprising. Actually, there were a few visitors from Sarasio on hand, aside from those on the scaffold. Young Mr. Jenkins, for one. It was all…surprisingly tasteful.”

“…tasteful?” Gabriel said warily.

“You read about public executions in fiction,” the man said, now gazing across the street, apparently lost in his train of thought. “Jeering and cheering from the crowd, dramatic speeches about the glory of the state and the evils of whoever was on the chopping block. All manner of rotten food being thrown. Fairly accurate, in a lot of cases; people did stuff like that. When life is hard, life is cheap, and people learn to mock death as the only way they can stand to live so close to it. None of that happened at the hanging, though. Not much of a crowd, and they were all… I want to say bemused, and saddened. No pontificating from the Imperial officials, either, just a list of charges and the pronouncement of sentence. The fellow was even quite polite to his…guest of honor.” He shook his head slowly. “As knowledge increases, so does understanding. Philosophy…decency. People are truly getting better. Oh, not consistently, and not as quickly as one might hope. But looking at the grand scale of progress, I’m inclined to be optimistic. So who’s to say who may or may not find acceptance in the world tomorrow, or next year?”

“I don’t think I’d know how to live in a world that accepted me,” Gabriel mused, now staring into the distance himself. The man in black turned his penetrating gaze back on him.

“You’re accustomed to keeping your head down, I’m sure. There are two sides to everything, though. Ever thought about trying to make yourself part of that progress?”

Gabriel was quiet for a while. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “I’m not sure if I ought to. It’s not like the world’s ever given me a break. What’s my motivation to help it?”

“That, son, is a question to which you should give some real thought.”

Gabe shook himself as if rousing from a reverie, turning back to the man with a smile. “Heh, you know, this is twice we’ve met, and I never have gotten your name.”

“Hm… I suppose that’s so, isn’t it? Tell you what.” The man in black grinned and reached up to tug the brim of his hat. “If our paths should happen to cross a third time, I’ll consider that a sign that you need to know it. Till then, perhaps.” He strolled off down the icy street, whistling.

Gabriel watched him go, momentarily forgetting even the cold. “Weird.”

 

“I did not sleep enough,” Teal said, yawning.

Trissiny rolled her eyes. “Nobody told you to stay up half the night dancing.”

“You are not being fair, Trissiny,” said Shaeine. “Someone did tell her to stay up dancing. And I stand by that directive.”

“I didn’t need to sleep enough,” said Teal with a smile, brushing the back of Shaeine’s hand with her own. “Dancing was much better. We should do that more often.”

“Goddammit, what is it going to take for you two to quit acting like a fairy tale?” Ruda exclaimed. “Breakfast wasn’t so fantastic that I want to taste it again.”

“Oh, let them be happy,” said Trissiny, smiling faintly. Ruda just snorted.

They paused, breaking their formation to press themselves against the front of a store and let a woman with two children pass. The mother, a drow, gave them a deep nod of the head and a polite little Narisian smile. The two kids stared openly, the girl with the happy grin of pure innocence. Both had ash-gray skin and dusty blonde hair; the girl’s ears were human in shape, while her little brother’s came to points, but were not as long as an elf’s.

“This place is kind of amazing,” Ruda said to herself as they continued on their way.

“Proof that differences need not result in conflict,” said Trissiny, nodding. “And that, I suspect, is precisely why someone seems determined to undermine the district. A closed mind is directly threatened by the presence of open ones.”

“Oh, you see evil conspiracies in every shadow,” Ruda said disdainfully. “Sometimes, Triss, people are just assholes. You don’t need to reach for hidden agendas to perfectly explain everything going on here.”

The paladin sighed. “Maybe. Well, after last night, I can at least hope something will be done.”

“I thought you weren’t happy about your conversation with the General?” said Teal.

“Not particularly, but sometimes the goddess provides in unexpected ways. Very unexpected. Panissar brushed me off, but Bishop Darling seemed far more motivated to step in.”

“For whatever good that’ll do,” Ruda grunted. “The man seemed smart, but…shifty. Nobody who’s that full of himself helps just to be helpful.”

“He’s not by any means the help I would have preferred,” Trissiny admitted. “Certainly not someone on whom to rely. ‘Smart but shifty’ sounds about right, but… I’ll take whatever works. Whether it’s the General properly keeping order among his troops or Antonio Darling protecting whatever illicit business interests he has in the district, so long as it results in these people getting the support they need, I can live with it.”

“That’s the spirit! A little pragmatism goes a long way, I say.”

The four came to a sudden stop, turning to stare at the speaker, who had just appeared alongside them. She was a young woman of Punaji origin, to judge by her accent, complexion and traditional boots, greatcoat and feathered hat, though her ensemble was of a much thicker shirt and trousers than Punaji style dictated and had been accessorized with a huge scarf and wooly mittens. She grinned cheerfully at them.

“Can we help you?” Trissiny asked at last.

“Why, yes! Yes you can!” the girl said, her grin widening. “I was just about to ask if you’d be willing to do me a little favor. Word is you’ve gotten fairly friendly with Bishop Darling.”

“How could you know about that?” Trissiny demanded. “That was just last night!”

“Ah, but you see, Trissiny, it’s my business to know things,” the girl replied mysteriously.

“That,” said Ruda, rolling her eyes, “and you were just talking about it. Literally seconds ago.”

“Spoilsport,” said the visitor, her grin returning. “By the way, it’s a real honor to meet you, Princess Zaruda.”

“You haven’t met me, spanky. You just walked up and started talking.”

“Right, sorry, I get carried away. You can call me Peepers!”

Trissiny suddenly grimaced. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Peepers said cheerfully. “Anyway, since you offered to help me out, it’d be a real boost to my career if you could mention how much I helped you with your Lor’naris project to Darling next time you see him.”

“Wh—how much you what?” Trissiny exclaimed. “You haven’t…you just walked up! What help are you talking about?”

“Well, as to that.” Peepers turned to point one of her thick mittens up the street. “Left side, bout forty yards ahead, there’s an alley between a boarded-up building and an accountant’s office on the other side. You’re gonna want to have a look at what’s going on in there, General Hand, ma’am. In fact, you probably wanna get to it soon. And don’t go alone.”

They all stared at her.

“Like, today,” Peepers prompted. “Nowish. Time’s wasting.”

“Why?” Teal asked suspiciously.

“What, I’m supposed to give you all the answers? Hold your hand the whole way? You’ve got your tip, ladies; if you’re gonna act on it, now’s the time. Remember, my regards to the Bishop!”

The girl turned and actually skipped away, back up the sidewalk in the direction from which they’d come. Ten feet distant, she slipped on a patch of ice, barely avoided tumbling to the pavement, and from there proceeded at a much more sedate pace.

“The fuck kind of name is Peepers?” Ruda demanded.

“It’s not a name,” Trissiny said grimly. “That sounds like a Thieves’ Guild tag.”

Ruda’s face crunched into a grimace. “What? That girl was Punaji. We don’t have Eserites in Puna Dara.”

“There’s nowhere that doesn’t have Eserites,” said Trissiny. “If you do a better job than most at pushing them underground, that just means you don’t know who they are. Come on, we’d better have a look at that alley.”

“Oh, good, sure, let’s fuckin’ do that,” Ruda groused, though she fell into step alongside Trissiny as the paladin set off, Teal and Shaeine trailing along behind them. “Since it’s not an obvious trap or anything.”

“Maybe,” Trissiny allowed. “It wouldn’t be the first case of a Guild agent playing a prank on a Legionnaire, but they never take it to the point of causing actual harm. The Guild is quite deft at toeing the line, when they choose to.”

There had been no precipitation overnight, so there was no more buildup of ice on the sidewalks; unfortunately, that meant there had been less effort than yesterday to clear them, and treacherous patches remained where the morning frost lurked almost invisibly. The girls proceeded much more purposefully than their previously meandering pace, but not so quickly that they didn’t watch each step with care. Trissiny kept her attention on their destination, the others falling silent in her wake.

The boarded-up building was broader and squatter than most structures in the district; it looked like it might have been a warehouse or factory when in use. The accountant’s on the other side of the alley was in much better shape, its brickwork a little pitted and chipped like almost everything in Lor’naris, but it had a large window set into its front, apparently new and freshly painted with the firm’s name. No one appeared yet to be active within. The four gave it barely a glance before following Trissiny into the alley.

Here, the dimness quickly faded to real dark only a few steps in. Trissiny slowed to a halt, peering into the gloom; she could make out shapes, but not much more, and her vision was better in the dark than Teal or Ruda’s.

“Shaeine, cover your eyes,” she said quietly, then drew her sword. The blade ignited with golden radiance, lighting up the dismal space as if the alley suddenly had its own private sun.

For the most part, it would have been better left unseen. It was a dead-end alley, terminating in the bedrock below the city walls, with no doors to its bordering structures on either side. Consequently, despite the general ethos of cleanliness and order that prevailed in Lor’naris, upkeep here had been neglected, and truly ancient trash of all descriptions littered the ground, gathering into drifts in the corners, all of it coated with a layer of uncleared ice. The walls themselves were somewhat grimy, water-stained in many places. The girls spared none of this so much as a glance, however.

The man standing two thirds of the way down the alley wore a scarf wrapped around his lower face; his eyes were concealed by a thick pair of tinted goggles. He stood utterly still, apparently having frozen upon their entry in a bid to remain unnoticed. Before him, against the wall of the warehouse, sat a disorderly stack of barrels and old planks; the light glittered on small bottles of fluids and iridescent powder strategically placed throughout. In his hands he held a modern arcane firestarter of the kind sold to pioneers for extended trips into the wilderness.

For a moment, there was utter stillness.

Then Trissiny spoke, her voice several degrees colder than the winter air. “You have six seconds to convince me this is not what it looks like.”

He dropped the firestarter and reached into his coat.

“No,” she barked, striding forward with her glowing sword upraised.

The man withdrew his hand and swung it at the ground; something small tumbled from his fingers to strike the icy pavement.

A tremendous clap of thunder echoed through the alley, and for a split second an utterly blinding white radiance overwhelmed even Trissiny’s light. She yelped and staggered, clapping her free hand over her eyes; behind her, the others cried out as well. The divine glow vanished along with Trissiny’s concentration, but none of them could see the alley plunged back into darkness. They couldn’t see anything. She felt a figure brush past her, then heard a curse from Ruda followed by the thud of someone losing their footing on the slick ground. Stars and comets still swarmed her vision, leaving her blind and helpless.

The man slipped as he burst out from the mouth of the alley, but didn’t moderate his pace, dashing back toward the entrance to Lor’naris. People got out of his way as quickly as they saw him approach, his progress half running and half sliding.

“Hey!” shouted a drow man, turning and setting off after him, but he didn’t respond or slow.

Then, to a chorus of screams and curses, a streak of fire burst out from the alley behind him.

Vadrieny arced overhead, swooping past above and executing a graceful pirouette midair, transferring her forward momentum downward with a flap of her burning wings. Her talons sank into the very pavement with a crunch as she landed, securing her footing on the slick street. People bolted in all directions, several standing their ground and reaching for weapons.

“I think you’re about to be under arrest,” the demon commented calmly. She only stood, blazing wings extended to block his progress; she flexed her claws, but made no movement to attack.

Fumbling slightly with cold and nerves, the man drew a wand from within his coat and pointed it at her.

Vadrieny grinned, displaying a mouthful of terrifying fangs. “Whatever mistakes you have made in life, that would surpass them.”

He hesitated, the wand quavering but still aimed in his general direction. Too late, he registered and responded to the sound of bootsteps behind him, turning to face back the way he’d come.

Trissiny deliberately launched herself onto a patch of ice, hurtling forward in a slide. As the man pivoted to face her, she slammed her shield into his face, transferring her full momentum into the blow. He hurtled backward to the street, the wand tumbling from suddenly nerveless fingers.

The fallen would-be arsonist groaned softly, one hand twitching, then fell still.

Ruda stomped up, slipping and cursing vehemently even by her standards, while Trissiny knelt next to the fallen man. Several drow and humans had stepped cautiously forward, still eying the burning demon askance, but having taken their cue from the fact that the paladin was clearly not alarmed by her. Some might even have recognized the Talisman of Absolution pinned to her lapel.

“Is he dead?” Ruda demanded, coming to a stop.

“Stunned,” said Trissiny. “I’m not much of a healer; I hope I didn’t crack his skull. That can cause serious problems…” She raised her head, then glanced around. “Isn’t Shaeine with you?”

“Here,” called a voice far behind them. Shaeine had just emerged from the alley and was picking her way with great care along the sidewalk, keeping one hand on the wall for balance. The other was still held over her eyes.

Vadrieny pumped her wings once and shot back overhead, coming to a much more gentle landing beside the drow. With astonishing tenderness, she wrapped her arm around Shaeine, huge claws curling over her shoulder protectively; the priestess actually leaned against the demon. “Forgive me,” she said, raising her voice to address the others up ahead. “I’m afraid my eyes were more sensitive than yours to that device. Give me a moment to apply healing, please.”

“Sorry for leaving you,” Trissiny said with a wince.

“Not at all, you had an obvious tactical concern,” Shaeine replied absently, her whole head alight with silver. Vadrieny stood silently by, one blazing wing arched protectively over the priestess.

Ruda, meanwhile, had tugged free the fallen man’s scarf and goggles. “Anybody recognize this asshole?” He was a young human, clean-shaven and with his hair cropped short, with a perfectly unremarkable Tiraan complexion.

“He’s a city guard,” said a drow woman standing nearby. A human girl next to her nodded in agreement, grim-faced.

“Are you sure?” Trissiny asked, her expression dissolving into a scowl.

“Quite,” said the drow. “I have found it is wise to know them all on sight.”

“Unbelievable,” Ruda muttered. “Does the Imperial Army deliberately train its troops to wade hip-deep in the most idiotic bullshit they can find? I mean, fuck, those three privates we have at the school are kinda funny, but the shit going down in this city is starting to get seriously fucked up.”

“An accusation isn’t proof, Ruda,” said Shaeine, approaching, her eyes open and apparently working. Teal hovered protectively behind her, the demon once again submerged. Shaeine carefully knelt on the man’s other side, reaching out to place a fingertip against the center of his forehead. “Give me a moment… Yes, he is very mildly concussed. Easily fixed.” Her hand glowed momentarily, then she looked up at Trissiny. “I have placed him in a natural sleep, and taken the liberty of helping him relax more deeply than he is accustomed to, while leaving his ability to speak. You may find him…suggestible.”

“Excellent,” Trissiny said grimly. “All right, you. Why were you trying to set a fire?”

The alleged guard turned his head, smacking his lips for all the world like a man deeply asleep in his own bed. She was about to repeat her question when he finally answered, his voice dreamy. “Jus’ a small one, nobody hurt. Empty building. Setting an example… Make it clear the district’s not under control. Still need soldiers.”

Ruda snorted loudly; Trissiny made a shushing motion at her. The surrounding citizens were now dead silent, the drow impassive, the humans looking increasingly furious.

“Why now?” Trissiny demanded. “Why this escalation?”

“General Panissar…throwing his weight around,” the man mumbled. “Inspections… Paladin sticking her nose in. Captain says we—”

Abruptly, Shaeine reached out to touch his forehead again, and he fell silent with a deep sigh, a goofy smile passing across his face.

“What—why did you stop him?” Trissiny demanded. “He was confessing!”

“His use of ‘we’ indicated he is, indeed, a soldier,” Shaeine replied calmly. “This man is a Tiraan agent; for me to interrogate him under magical coercion would be a violation of treaty.”

“You knew that already!”

“Suspected,” she said impassively. “He was accused. Hearing it confessed from his own mouth changed the situation entirely.”

“Bah,” said Ruda. “I say we wake him up again, smack him around till he goes back to talking.” There were several mutters of agreement from the onlookers.

“No!” Trissiny shouted, then continued more quietly, dragging a hand over her face. “…no, Shaeine is completely right. Without law, justice is impotent. Though you were playing it pretty close with the technicalities,” she added, turning a wry look on the drow.

“Yes,” said Shaeine with a satisfied little smile. “We call that ‘diplomacy.’”

Trissiny stood with a sigh. “All right… Clearly, he must be placed under arrest. Just as clearly, there is a conflict of interest with the local guard barracks, which means we can’t hand him over to them. I’ll take him to the Legions. May I have some help getting him on the horse, please?”

There were gasps and curses, and even visible startlement on several drow faces, when the crowd turned to find Arjen waiting patiently just behind them. The Lorisians quickly marshalled themselves, however, and as requested helped lift the slumbering guard up, draping him across the saddle behind Trissiny. No one, luckily, indulged in the temptation to be unnecessarily rough with their captive, though there were several good-natured offers of rope and chains to lash him down.

“I can manage,” she demurred, reaching behind her to keep a one-handed grip on the fellow’s belt.

“You might have some trouble getting through the city, though,” Ruda commented, planting her fists on her hips. “Paladin or no, carrying a man draped over your horse’s ass like a sack of flour is gonna draw you some attention. And what if you pass more assholes from this guy’s barracks on the way? They might arrest you.”

Trissiny gave her a small, cold smile. “I almost hope they try.”

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5 – 12

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“Well. It seems they’ll invite just anyone to these events. Poor General Panissar; he must be completely out of friends if he has to stuff the guest list with wharf rats.”

Ruda took her time savoring a sip of champagne before turning slowly to regard the speaker. A young woman in a daringly low-cut gown that glittered with iridescent charms stood a few steps from her, smirking over a lavishly embroidered court fan. Two more stood behind her on both sides, wearing similarly smug expressions.

“Um, I think you’re confused,” Fross noted. “This is Princess Zaruda. Not someone you should be rude to.”

“Princess, oh, but of course,” the girl tittered, fluttering her fan. “I guess in a small enough pond, the wartiest frog is the queen. So, is this what they’re wearing in Puna Dara this season?” She made a languid up-and-down gesture with her fan, indicating Ruda’s outfit. “My, that’s quite a step up from the traditional used sail canvas and fish scales. How many merchants did you have to rob to afford that coat, dear?”

Fross fluttered down to hover next to Ruda’s ear. “I think this girl may be touched in the head,” she whispered, sort of. She had mastered the breathy intonation of a whisper, but apparently not learned how to speak more quietly.

“Nah, this is a social game,” Ruda said. “Making backhanded insinuations and snippy remarks cloaked behind pretty words, trying to pull down my character. It’s how people try to assert dominance when they don’t actually have any.”

“Ooh, what a wicked little tongue you have,” the young lady said, her smirk widening. “The other scullery maids must be absolutely terrified of you.”

“Must say, I’m intrigued to see this in practice,” Ruda said mildly. “We Punaji prefer a more direct approach. For example.” Grasping her sheathed rapier in her left hand, she jerked it upward, causing it to slide out of the scabbard, then pinched the leather sheath so that the sword was trapped half out. Its glittering hilt stayed just below her eye level, held up like a scepter. “Bitch, my jewels cost ten times what yours did, and I can kill you with them. Now fuck off, you underdressed, overweening speck.”

“Bark louder,” the girl sneered. “Maybe the other dogs—”

“Why, Miss Covrin, how lovely to see you out and about!” Bishop Darling said pleasantly, oozing out from behind Ruda. “And congratulations on the outcome of your recent pregnancy scare. I’m sure all of Tiraas shares your relief that you haven’t managed to accidentally reproduce.”

The girl went dead white, her fan falling still. Her two companions both gasped softly, turning shocked gazes upon her from behind.

“Oh,” said Darling, wincing, “I’m sorry, was that meant to be a secret? I always forget these little details.”

Miss Covrin whirled and flounced rapidly away, trailing her little entourage. Darling grinned savagely after her; Ruda grunted, let her sword slide fully back into its sheath and delicately sipped at her drink.

“Okay, I am so lost,” Fross complained. “What was that about? Did you know that girl? She seemed really mad at you.”

“Never saw her before,” Ruda said idly, taking another dainty sip.

“Then why was she being so mean? It makes no sense! You’re way more important than her and there was no reason for her to act like that! And why are you drinking that so slowly? I’ve seen you go through bottles faster than the amount of time you’ve had that glass.”

“Effervescent wines, Fross my dear, are an experience. They are to be savored, one sip at a time.”

“Why?”

Ruda sipped her champagne. “Because if you drink ’em too fast, you get the burps.”

“And as for your other question,” Darling remarked, turning his disarming smile on the pixie, “some folks mistakenly believe that socializing is a zero-sum game. They think they have to tear somebody down in order to build themselves up.”

“And…that’s not true?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “In certain, specific situations, it can be. As a general rule, though, you get better results being nice to people.”

“See, that’s what I think,” the pixie agreed bobbing enthusiastically. “Oh, hey, Trissiny’s back!”

The paladin strode toward them, exhibiting barely-held restraint; her stride was just short of stomping, her face scarcely less than a glare.

“I’d ask how your conversation went,” Ruda said dryly, “but, well…look at you.”

“He’s not going to do anything,” Trissiny said tightly, coming to a stop next to them. Unconsciously, she rested her left hand on her sword, thumb caressing its pommel. “Oh, he didn’t come out and say so, but all he did give me was a speech about restraint and subtlety. I know by now when I’m getting the runaround from a bureaucrat.”

Bishop Darling burst out laughing.

Trissiny stared at him in silence for a moment, her expression deteriorating further. “I’m glad I amuse, your Grace.”

“Sorry!” he wheezed. “I’m sorry, but… You just called Toman Panissar a bureaucrat. If you knew the man at all, General, you’d realize just what a grand joke that is.”

“Oh?”

“General Panissar isn’t likely to tell you his plans under any circumstances; the world typically finds out what he intends to do after he’s done it. If he gave you a speech about restraint, well… That sounds to me less like a man declaring his intentions and more like a seasoned commander taking the opportunity to offer some advice to a less experienced one. What’s all this about, if I may ask?”

Trissiny pursed her lips for a moment before replying. “Trouble in Lor’naris. Some of his soldiers have been hassling the residents.”

“Ah, yes. That.” Darling nodded. “I begin to see why the talk of restraint. It’s good of you to take an interest, Ms. Avelea, but the Lorisians can usually handle their own affairs.”

“You know about this?” she demanded, her eyebrows rising.

“It’s been going on for a while. A number of people aren’t happy about having a district full of drow right here in Tiraas; some of them happen to wear uniforms. Like I said, the matter has never gotten out of hand.”

“Well, it’s beginning to,” she said sharply. “I personally saw soldiers of the city guard attempt to arrest several citizens on entirely trumped-up charges. If I hadn’t been there to put a stop to it, who knows how this might have escalated?”

Darling’s expression sobered in an instant. “Now that…is troubling. Not least because I hadn’t heard word of it.” He glanced around at the party-goers. Most of them were trying to be subtle about it at this point, but a lot of the nearby eyes were on their group, nakedly speculating. “I wonder if I could borrow you for a little bit, General?”

Trissiny hesitated, glancing at Ruda.

“Hell yes, go have a chat with him,” the pirate said. “This guy’s sharp. And if you didn’t get anywhere with Panissar, maybe you could use the extra help.”

“All right,” Trissiny said, nodding to Darling.

“Splendid! The General has the dullest, most unimaginative gardens in the entire city. Shall we go have a look?”

Ruda sipped at her champagne, watching them leave.

“Is…that gonna help at all?” Fross asked uncertainly. “That’s a priest, right? He can’t do much about misbehaving soldiers…”

“Could do. That’s a priest of Eserion, specifically; they’re crafty. To be frank, that’s exactly what Triss needs if she insists on getting involved in this. More confrontation will only make it worse; a little craftiness might be just the thing.”

That was as far as she got before another knot of young women manifested seemingly from thin air around her, these far more friendly than the last group had been.

“Princess Zaruda, it’s an honor to meet you,” one said, curtsying deeply. “I am Lady Laila Falsravi. Welcome to our city!”

“Glad to know you,” Ruda replied, nodding in return. “So far I like what I see.”

“I hope we’re not intruding,” another young woman said, her expression both eager and uncertain, “but, well… We just had to ask you.”

“You can ask me anything, girls,” Ruda said with a beatific smile. “I reserve the right not to answer, but I don’t stab people for curiosity.”

“Well…” Lady Laila bit her lip nervously before bursting out. “Is that really the Hand of Avei?”

As if her question had burst a dam, the others began talking over each other in their enthusiasm.

“Are you actually her roommate?”

“What’s she like?!”

“Have you seen her fight?”

“Is she single?”

After that last, they dissolved into giggles, then expectant stares, waiting avidly for her to reply.

Ruda closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, then tilted her head back, draining her glass in one go.

 

“The best part,” Shaeine mused, “is how worried she was about the reception of polite society.”

“Well, that’s a fair concern, but not at this party of all places,” Mrs. Khalinar said with a smile. “Oh, I’m sure there are some crusty traditionalists in the audience who are just seething, but remember, this is General Panissar’s party. At least half those present are officers in the Army and their families. None of us will give either of you so much as a cross look, and the rest have better sense than to start trouble in a large room full of Avenists.”

“And quite a few of us are relatively accustomed to drow,” added Lady Ashravi. “None of our husbands attained the rank they have without having been posted at Fort Vaspian for at least a while.”

“Look how well she’s fitting in,” Mrs. Khalinar added wryly.

A few feet away, a knot of men of varying ages, wearing a mix of Army uniforms and formal evening wear, stood around Teal. A couple of them had female escorts at hand, who were pretending with varying degrees of enthusiasm to be interested in the conversation.

“I get what you mean,” a young man with a sergeant’s stripes was saying, “but it’s old-fashioned thinking! The advances in golem logic controllers have changed the whole game. All-wheel drive tied to a central spell network is going to revolutionize the carriage industry.”

“’Revolutionize’ is a pretty strong term,” Teal replied animatedly. “Yes, the new spell lattices have a lot of potential, but just because an enchantment is new doesn’t mean it’s better, or that it’s useful in all situations. There’s a very good reason no modern carriage maker uses centralized control for wheel enchantments.”

“Yeah, of course, it was less efficient than having four separate wheel enchantments, but that was before there were logic controllers sophisticated enough to make use of the system! I’m talking about active traction control, terrain adaptation…”

“All very nice,” she retorted, “but none of that has proven to be at all useful in actual, on-the-road trials. The separate wheel enchantments are designed for stable, mutual interaction anyway, and the existing systems have not been improved on. We’ve tested our newest lines against those clunkers put out by DawnCo, and in every single case, Falconer carriages outperformed them in adverse road conditions. With independent wheel controllers.”

“Yes, we’ve all heard about the famous trials,” an older man said with a grin. “DawnCo argues pretty vehemently with the results.”

“Yes, we smoke their carriages in tests before an independent panel, and they want to quibble about the results,” Teal said, grinning. “Shocking.”

“Welcome to the ranks of the carriage widows, dear,” Mrs. Khalinar said resignedly. Lady Ashravi laughed.

“I almost hate to spoil their fun,” Shaeine said. “How do you pull them away?”

“My experience has been that it’s easiest to let them work it out on their own,” Lady Ashravi said, watching her husband with an indulgent smile.

“Mm. We do things a little differently in Tar’naris. Please excuse me, ladies.” Shaeine bowed to them, then glided over to the other group.

Teal was just winding up another enthusiastic anecdote about carriage stability when Shaeine placed a hand on her arm. She broke off, looking at her date in surprise.

“Teal,” Shaeine said, “they have just begun playing a waltz.”

“Oh! Um, I…”

“Dance with me,” the drow ordered, gently pulling her away. Teal allowed herself to be tugged onto the dance floor, looking dazed and a little uncertain, but very quickly turned her full focus onto her partner as Shaeine expertly guided them into the steps.

“Well,” Mrs. Khalinar marveled. “Do you think that’d work?”

“I see only one way to find out,” Lady Ashravi replied with a grin.

“You’re troubled,” Shaeine murmured.

“I…cannot remember the last time I was less troubled,” Teal replied just as quietly, smiling down at her.

“That may be,” the drow said, smiling back, “but it’s still a less than perfect moment. You are tense.”

“I’m… I’ve never done anything this brazen.” She glanced around furtively at the other dancing couples. They had maneuvered near the middle of the floor; nobody nearby was even looking in their direction. “I feel like every eye in the room is on me. Knowing that’s completely irrational doesn’t change it.”

“You are concerned about word getting back to your parents?”

“Hardly,” she said rolling her eyes. “They take pride in refusing to follow gossip. I’m sure somebody will try to carry tales of this back to them, and they’ll brush it off, if they even hear it at all.”

“It is a general concern, then.”

Teal sighed softly. “I’m sorry, love. I don’t mean to spoil anything… And you! You dance beautifully. When did you learn to waltz?”

“I was trained for most of the likely social situations a diplomat to Tiraas could expect to encounter,” Shaeine replied with one of her mysterious smiles. “The hard part was acclimating myself to the expectation that the man would lead.”

Teal grinned. “Then…you’re not concerned about your mother hearing about this?”

“I have no doubt that she will. And I have no reason to think she does not trust my judgment. The nature of House Awarrion being what it is, fraternizing with humans is not discouraged. That is why there are relatively few from my House living in Lor’naris; they were never made unwelcome at home. Those who have come here did so presumably to be close to the families of their human partners.”

Teal nodded, bit her lip, and glanced around again.

“Teal,” Shaeine said gently. She lifted her hand from the taller girl’s waist and reached up to touch her cheek. “The fear is not real. The other people are not real. Nothing is real but you, me and the music.” She murmured on, her garnet eyes staring up with arresting intensity. “The world will wait. Right now, at this moment, you are only mine.”

Teal held her gaze in silence, in something very like awe, for several seconds, before the tension began to seep out of her frame. Her steps grew more fluid, and she smiled softly, replying in elvish.

“Ala’thai saue.”

“And I you.”

 

“Please don’t think me impertinent,” said Darling, “but I wonder if I could prevail upon you to recount the details of your brush with the soldiers? The exact sequence of events, as you’d put it in an official report.”

Trissiny frowned, but responded, keeping her eyes on the path ahead. The garden was dim, its fairy lamps fewer than those illuminating the front of the manor, but not truly dark. “I saw soldiers squaring off against civilians at the mouth of the district and went to investigate. The men were verbally accosting four members of the Lor’naris neighborhood watch, who were refusing to rise to the bait. I asked the sergeant’s name and that of his commander, he ordered his men to arrest everyone present, I revealed my identity, repeated my request and then directed the soldiers to leave. They did without further protest.”

“Hm,” said the Bishop thoughtfully. “Then you weren’t in armor at the time?”

“No. I was trying to avoid needless attention.”

“I see.” He nodded slowly. “So to review… It was more of the same that the Lorisians are accustomed to dealing with, and they were gently talking down their harassers as usual. Then you arrived, as far as anyone could tell, just some random girl. You started giving orders, the soldiers responded to that pretty much as any soldiers would… And that is when things began to go south. Yes?”

“Are you saying this is my fault?” she demanded, her voice rising an octave.

“Whoah!” Darling held up his hands. “Fault isn’t even a relevant concept here. I know what those men have been doing around that district and how the watch have been handling them. I know you aren’t likely to have done anything illegal or inappropriately aggressive, so yeah, that leaves the guard’s attempt to arrest everyone a pretty blatant abuse of authority. To answer your question, though… Maybe it would be wise for you to consider how your own actions have added to this.”

Trissiny pressed her lips into an angry line, glaring at the path ahead.

“Let me put it in military terms,” Darling said more gently. “You wouldn’t want to commit your forces to a charge without doing some reconnaissance first, right?”

“Fair enough,” she said grudgingly. “But I don’t know what else you think I should have done.”

“You’re not on trial here,” he replied. “Once again, it’s fairly obvious who’s been acting inappropriately. The question, now, is what to do about it. I think the General was right to remind you of caution. This is a tense thing; you’re dealing with groups of people who are in fairly intractable positions. The folk of Lor’naris are defending what’s theirs, what they have built up with their own hands and have the perfect right to take pride in. The guards, on the other hand, haven’t a moral prerogative here, but their specific motivations are exactly the kind of thing that makes people stubborn and unbending. The rock and the hard place; unstoppable force and immovable object.”

“Yes, I know,” she said in exasperation. “What’s important is that a direct confrontation between these parties be avoided. So everyone keeps telling me, as if I hadn’t the wit to see that for myself at a glance. The question is how?!”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “This is the time for some careful maneuvering behind the scenes.”

“Hn,” she grunted. “That’s exactly how I’d expect an Eserite to address a problem.”

“Oh, are we playing that game?” he replied wryly. “Very well. You Avenists love to talk about the art of war being applicable in any situation, which sounds impressive and all, but in practice it tends to mean that you approach every problem like a fight. Fighting, in this case, is exactly what no one should be doing. Look, the people in that district can take care of themselves and have spent years proving it. They’re pretty much the most competent, self-reliant group of folk in this city. Lorisians are a lot like frontier pioneers, but with a lot of hard-earned expertise at navigating the social and legal currents of the city. They can handle this.”

“So you just want to abandon them to it?” she demanded. “Let a corrupt unit of the city guard operate without repercussions?”

“No, no,” he said firmly. “I mean that any solution should not take the form of an avenging hero descending from on high to rescue them from their tribulations. In the best case scenario, that’ll leave the folk in that district deeply suspicious of guards and civil authorities, and the soldiers in the city—all of them, not just the offending barracks—deeply resentful of Lor’naris. It’s a recipe for inevitable trouble down the line. No…this calls for careful action.”

“Of what kind?”

“You’re not gonna like hearing this…” he said with a wince.

“To be perfectly frank, Bishop Darling, I didn’t come to this ridiculous party expecting to like anything I encountered.”

Darling’s lips twitched with repressed mirth. “Very well, then. For now, I advise you step back and let people who are in a position to gather information do so. I’m guessing Panissar said he would be following up on this? Quietly, in his own way?”

“That’s…pretty much exactly what he said,” she admitted.

He nodded. “I’ll do the same. And I can involve others; a number of the cults have interests in Lor’naris, including mine. Those that won’t talk to me directly I can reach via the Church. There’s also Ambassador Shariss, who can make inquiries and draw official attention if necessary. I, for my part, will be sending some people I trust to gather information for me in the district.”

“At the expense of igniting another interfaith tiff,” she said stiffly, “I don’t see how sending thieves to poke around will create less tension.”

“Not official Guild agents,” he said with a grin. “You’re right, that’d only ratchet up the stakes. That’s why I won’t be sticking my own personal nose into it, even though I’m fairly well liked around there. No, there are plenty of folk in Lor’naris itself who’ll be glad to bring me intelligence if I ask for it. I may just have my apprentices pop by the local inns for a drink now and again; they can be trusted to take more direct action, if needed, without officially involving the Guild. Apprentices are always rushing off and getting into trouble, you know how it is.”

“I certainly do not,” she said, twisting her lips disdainfully. “Cadets in the Legion do as they’re told, or they don’t last long.”

Darling chuckled. “Well, my point is, no one is going to ignore this. But for now, let’s have the action be of a fairly hands-off variety, yes? At least until we know more.”

“And then?”

“And then,” he said, “when it’s apparent what the situation is, we act gently to encourage the guards to lighten up. It may be as simple as reassigning the commander of that barracks; some firmer pressure might be needed in a few places. Or, hell, the whole thing might just up and go away on its own, if nobody stirs the pot. We’ll have to see. But in the meantime, with all due respect, I really don’t think that the Hand of Avei swaggering around barking orders will calm things down any.”

“I neither swagger nor bark,” she said stiffly. “But…I take your point. We may not be in the city for long, anyway.”

“Far be it from me to inquire into the great and mysterious Professor Tellwyrn’s plans…”

“I’ve learned there’s not much point,” she groused.

Darling grinned. “But as long as you are still in the city, I’ll see to it you’re included in anything that’s decided, provided you’re careful and don’t escalate this any further. Fair?”

“Fair enough,” she said grudgingly, nodding.

“Smashing! Then perhaps we’d best rejoin the party, before rumors about us begin to circulate!”

Trissiny sighed heavily. “Great.”

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5 – 11

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Fairy lamps blazed everywhere, their golden auras driving all shadows from the front of the manor. A line of carriages, some few drawn by horses but most of the modern enchanted variety, wound through the circular driveway, depositing their elegantly-dressed riders directly before the broad steps that rose to the mansion’s towering doors. Guards were everywhere, soldiers in the navy uniforms of the Imperial Army, covering multiple vantage points with staves at the ready. Others milled about, too, in addition to the trickle of wealthy guests making their way into the party. Some loitered near the carriage line or in the surrounding gardens, most chit-chatting idly while in truth watching like hawks, ready to swoop down upon any morsel of social advantage. More than a few of those who had already attained entry lined balconies extending from the front of the building, gazing down on the people below.

As an old-fashioned horse-drawn carriage pulled out of the way, an impossibly sleek and low-slung roadster eased into its place directly before the walkway to the doors, the arcane blue of its running lights glaring even in the brightly-lit garden. Necks were craned and avid faces marked its progress; this glossy new model was the very latest thing off the Falconer lines. There couldn’t have been a dozen on the roads in the whole province. Its driver, a figure in a sharply-tailored tuxedo, hopped lightly down from the master seat, stepping around to open the door of the passenger compartment, bowing and extending a hand.

The onlookers stared intently, quite a few forgetting to pretend they weren’t watching, as the driver helped a petite drow woman down to the path. Whispers broke out on all sides as the roadster, itself a novelty, continued to disgorge fascinating passengers: a short brown girl in a richly-embroidered blue coat that swept to her ankles, and then a blonde woman in the dress uniform of the Silver Legions, complete with silver armor. As they lit on the path, the soldier rather stiffly draped her white cape about her shoulders and the young Punaji woman settled a broad-brimmed hat bristling with feathers on her head. A ball of light, somewhat hard to see in the glare of fairy lamps, darted out of the carriage’s open door and floated around their heads energetically, bobbing in apparent excitement. The driver strolled forward in the lead, the drow on her—her!—arm, and casually tossed the roadster’s control rune to a uniformed footman.

“You probably could’ve arranged a driver for us,” Ruda commented as the party ascended the steps.

“A Falconer is never driven,” Teal replied, grinning over her shoulder. “We drive.”

Her bravado diminished somewhat when they arrived at the top of the stairs. The entrance was flanked by four soldiers at attention, supervised by a supercilious-looking young man in black livery.

“Good evening, ladies,” he intoned, sweeping his gaze quickly across them. If he felt any surprise at their group’s composition, he was too professional to show it. “Invitations, please?”

Teal hunched her shoulders slightly, opening her mouth to speak, but Shaeine beat her to it.

“I’m afraid we arrived in the city too recently to have received such consideration,” she said smoothly. “As General Panissar would surely not wish to be embarrassed by this oversight, we do not wish to press the issue.”

The servant looked serenely unimpressed. “Be that as it may, I am afraid this event is strictly by invitation only.”

“I told you so,” Fross stage whispered.

“How about we make a deal, then,” Ruda suggested, pushing forward and grinning broadly. “We’ll tell you who we are, and then take bets on how long you stay employed when your boss finds out you turned us away.”

 

Toman Panissar liked things simple, and in this he was usually thwarted. These absurdly over-the-top social events were a perfect case in point, and a painful reality of his exalted rank. It was impossible for the commander of the Empire’s military to avoid rubbing elbows with the high and mighty, unwise to leave all such rubbing up to them to initiate, and apparently unacceptable to entertain them in anything less than the absurd fashion to which they were accustomed. The necessity of these idiotic, wasteful spectacles was the only reason he had purchased this manor, which was itself the most humble residence he felt he could get away with. He and his wife lived in all of two rooms, in what had been an apartment for the residence’s master servants. Various military purposes had been found for the otherwise unneeded space, except on nights like this when it was all put to the use its designers had intended.

Panissar knew people talked down about his parties, and didn’t give a damn. There was free food and liquor of the finest quality, abundant light from fairy lamps, and a small orchestra to provide motive to their dancing and background noise to cover their scheming. That, he felt, discharged his duties to the social elite. He’d been to no shortage of their parties, and found their preposterous spreads of food, illusionists, actors, exotic animal shows and even more excessive spectacles laughable. If they didn’t like his events, they didn’t have to damn well come.

“Smile,” his wife murmured, squeezing his arm.

“No,” he said sullenly, and she laughed. He relaxed a little in spite of himself. She had that effect on him.

They were making their slow rounds through the knots of people standing around talking, having just come back from the dance floor. He exchanged nods and greetings with some of those they passed, Marie giving somewhat more enthusiasm to her duties as hostess. She was an absolute treasure, and indispensable at these wretched things. Marie shared his preferences for order and simplicity, but she was of a more social inclination, organizing and managing even to enjoy the events somewhat. At the very least, she compensated for the grouchiness they brought out in him.

His Butler, manning the front doors of the great hall, announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Radour, and Panissar winced. He shot Marie a glance, having to tilt his head; she was several inches taller than he. “Do we need to…”

“Eventually,” she said calmly, patting his hand. “Let them circle a bit first, though, the Radours love being seen. Remember, you’ll need to compliment her dress when we do greet them.”

“Hnh,” he grunted, eying the new arrivals as they immediately entered a large knot of chatting nobles. “What there is of it.”

“There are elves in the room, dear,” Marie said, but didn’t try to repress her grin.

“Did we ever hear back from that pompous fool Madouri?”

“The Duke did not deign to RSVP,” she said calmly, “but he is still keeping his family on their country estate. He is very unlikely to put in an appearance.”

“Splendid. There’ll be no end of paperwork if I disembowel him in public.”

“I should think not,” Marie replied. “The receipts for the carpet-cleaning alone…”

“We’ll have to deal with that anyway, unless these well-bred lushes have learned not to spill their snacks everywhere since the last time.”

“Toman,” she warned, but smiled.

Panissar spotted someone he actually wanted to talk to, at the mercy of old Colonel Norynx, and changed course to intercept.

To his very great credit, Bishop Darling was attending to the Colonel’s recitation of his service in the Stalnar Rebellion without glazing over or nodding off. He wasn’t too self-possessed to look relieved when the General cleared his throat from just behind him. “Colonel, if you’ll forgive me, I need to borrow his Grace for a moment.”

“General, unless you’re here to march me to execution, I owe you a great debt,” Darling said as they stepped out of earshot, Norynx already having latched onto another victim. “It’s absolutely amazing how that man makes carnage and bloodshed so soporifically dull. In fact, if we’re doing the execution thing, I want you to know there are no hard feelings.”

“Are you enjoying yourself, your Grace?” Marie inquired, smiling.

“Much more now than a moment ago, thanks to you! Always a pleasure, Captain.”

“I’m retired,” she said. “It’s mostly Lady Panissar, these days.”

“Madam,” Darling said with a flourish and a bow, “nearly all of the most useless people I know answer to Lady. My belief is that a person who has earned a rank is entitled to be called by it, no matter how bewitchingly lovely she may be.”

“You don’t even realize you’re doing it, do you,” Panissar said sourly.

Marie smiled, squeezing his arm again. “Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Regardless,” said the General, “I’ve need of your skills, Darling.”

“Happy to help! Whose pocket shall I pick for you?”

“Please don’t,” Panissar said feelingly. “In fact, let’s try to stay out of arm’s distance of everyone for as long as possible. I need you to be my beard.”

Darling blinked, looked thoughtfully at Marie, then made a show of stroking his chin in contemplation. “Well. This just got a great deal more exciting than I anticipated.”

“I’m so glad when we get to talk outside of work,” Panissar grumbled. “I’m mostly spared your sense of humor at council meetings. Just walk with us, if you would, your Grace. I know you loathe these events as much as I do. Act like we’re discussing something important, and perhaps we can both be spared the attentions of these…people.”

“Oh? What makes you think so?” Darling asked with a smile. “I’ve always thought of myself as a people person, really.”

“You’re not so smooth that I haven’t caught you cringing at the politics we have to deal with,” said Panissar, beginning to walk again. Marie and the Bishop fell into step on either side of him. “This isn’t your scene. I suspect you’d much rather be hanging around with the city’s lowlifes.”

“You’re both right and missing the point,” Darling mused. “People are people; all of them are fascinating in their way. I do enjoy the lowlifes, though. So many in this social circle fail to appreciate them. It’s satisfying, feeling like I’m getting something others are missing out on.”

Their course had taken them to the foot of the dais opposite the entrance, on which the buffet tables perched. There came a momentary lull in their conversation while the General mulled the Bishop’s words, and at that moment, Panissar’s Butler, Spencer, announced the arrival of new guests in his booming voice.

“Princess Zaruda Carmelita Xingyu Sameera Meredith Punaji.”

Murmurs sprung up around them, conversations staggering to a halt. Panissar narrowed his eyes. “…what?”

“Not your idea, I take it?” Darling asked.

Spencer wasn’t done.

“General Trissiny Avelea, Hand of Avei.”

“What?” Panissar growled; the murmuring around them rose in pitch and volume.

“Miss Teal Falconer,” Spencer intoned. “Lady Shaeine nur Ashaele d’zin Awarrion.” He actually hesitated, the first time Panissar had ever seen the man anything less than perfectly smooth. “Fross, emissary of the Pixie Queen.”

“Oh, my,” said Darling, looking and sounding delightedly fascinated.

“Bloody hell,” Panissar growled. “Do you realize what this means?”

“You’re about to spend a fortune on booze?”

“That woman must be in the city.”

The Bishop turned to look at him, surprised. “You mean Tellwyrn? You didn’t know? Vex has people all over her.”

“Nobody tells me anything,” Panissar snarled. “Dear? Help?”

Marie spoke in a low voice as they moved slowly forward, Darling trailing along after them. “The Princess may be trouble; she’ll be mindful of the honor of her family, but Punaji ideas of proper behavior have been known to cause diplomatic incidents in the past. Avelea is a complete unknown; first the Sisters and then Tellwyrn have been hiding her. She’s a soldier, though; you should get along. The drow is of House Awarrion, and will be a mitigating factor if anything. No trouble from that source. The Falconer girl… Her whole family are artists and enchanters who disdain high society, and Teal has a reputation for being socially awkward.” She hesitated. “The pixie… I have no idea. I didn’t realize they were intelligent.”

The four uninvited guests descended the stairs to the lowered floor of the ballroom, the target of nearly every eye in the place. Five, he amended silently, counting the pixie. Well, six, if one considered that one of them was infested with a bloody demon. On his first visual inspection, he mostly found Marie’s analysis borne out. The drow looked calm and aloof as only a Narisian could. Avelea, dressed in silver armor over a sharp white dress uniform with the high-collared, gold-trimmed white ceremonial cape over that, was straight-backed and self-possessed, but visibly slightly uncomfortable. A woman after his own heart; a dance floor was no place for soldiers like them. The Punaji girl, who was hard to think of as a Princess now that he saw her, wore royal blue heavily embroidered with gold, the feathers in her hat glittering garishly with a rather tacky enchantment; between the lapels of her open coat, she was showing a bare midriff and a lot of decolletage, and probably getting a kick out of spitting in the face of Imperial fashion. Speaking of which, the Falconer girl was wearing a suit. What with that and the haircut he could have mistaken her for a boy, were it not so well-tailored. She had by no means the most impressive figure he’d ever seen on a girl, but the way her coat outlined her was eye-catching, to say the least. Great; socially awkward and apparently out to make some kind of point. Why did she have to pick his party to do it?

“Ladies,” he said, approaching. “Your Highness; General. Lady Shaeine. Miss Falconer. And… I’m sorry, miss, I don’t know the formal customs of your people.”

“We don’t really have any,” the fluttering ball of light chimed, her voice high-pitched and disgustingly cheerful. “My name’s Fross! It’s nice to meet you! Wow, your house sure is pretty!”

“Thank you,” he said, somewhat nonplussed. “Most of the credit goes to my wife. May I present Captain Marie Panissar.”

“She’s pretty too!”

“Why, thank you, Fross,” Marie said with a smile. “So are you. Ladies, welcome to our humble home. You honor us with your presence.”

“We must apologize for descending on you unannounced, Captain,” said the drow. Marie made a wry face, and Panissar grimaced, inwardly cursing Darling for putting the reminder in his head. His wife had served with honor and distinction, but usually preferred civilian address now, feeling it an appropriate counterpoint to her husband. They had a good functional partnership: he organized the Empire’s army, and she organized the rest of his life.

“Not at all, it’s I who should apologize,” Marie said smoothly. “I am terribly embarrassed that none of you were sent an invitation to our little event. I simply had no idea you were in the city.”

“Don’t feel bad, everyone was taken equally by surprise,” said Princess Zaruda, grinning. Panissar took note of that grin and resigned himself to having to clean up a mess later. That was the grin he saw on the face of young soldiers who were about eight hours away from being in lockup for drunk and disorderly conduct.

“Yes,” said Darling cheerfully, “Hurricane Arachne has a way of blowing everyone off course.”

Zaruda barked a most un-Princesslike laugh. Panissar cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out, your Grace. Ladies, this is Bishop Antonio Darling of the Universal Church.”

“Pleasure,” said Avelea crisply, extending a hand and clasping the Bishop’s. “From what faith do you come to the Church, if I may ask?”

“Of course you may! I have the honor of being a priest of Eserion.”

“I see,” she said somewhat grimly.

“I’m sure you believe that you do,” Darling replied with a broad smile. “Do you play poker, General? We really should have a game sometime.”

Avelea narrowed her eyes, and Panissar sighed, making a mental note not to hang around with Darling outside of work if it could be helped. He was much better behaved in a small room with three of the Empire’s most powerful men.

Zaruda laughed again, deftly snagging a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “All right, keep it in your pants, your Generalship, ma’am. I have decided that I like this guy.”

“Smashing!” Darling proclaimed with a grin. “Does that mean I get to live?”

“For the time being. I’ll expect you to flirt shamelessly with me for a good chunk of the evening, of course.”

“Your Highness, I do everything shamelessly,” he said with a deep bow.

“General Panissar,” said Avelea crisply. “I wonder if I could trouble you for a word in private?”

“I would be delighted,” he said, patting Marie’s hand and then releasing her arm. He spoke in absolute sincerity. Anything to get away from this crowd for a moment.

Panissar led the way across the ballroom, up the dais and to the row of picture windows overlooking the manor gardens. There, he had to abruptly change course as the small private balcony to which he was headed proved to be occupied by two figures trying fervently to become one. Luckily, there was an identical one on the opposite side, this one empty. Panissar led Avelea across to it, ushered her through, and shut the door, cutting off the sounds of the party with more than a little relief.

“I’m afraid I’m a rather poor guest,” said Avelea, turning to face him and placing her back to the railing. “I must confess I came here tonight with the primary goal of speaking with you.”

“General,” he said with a smile, “every one of those overdressed peacocks in there is here for the singular purpose of currying favor, with me or in some cases with each other. The only exceptions are some of my officers whom I ordered to attend. Out of all those bootlickers, not one has had the basic spine to tell me to my face what they’re up to. You are now officially my favorite guest. What can I do for you?”

She smiled, and Panissar found himself liking the girl. Avelea was an enigma, little known and much speculated about, due to the secrecy in which her caretakers had shrouded her. She was young enough to be the rawest recruit his Army would allow in, but had the poise and bearing of a much more experienced soldier. Well, that made a certain amount of sense, given her upbringing.

“I am… Please don’t take offense, General Panissar,” she said, frowning slightly in thought. “I don’t mean to interfere in the running of your forces. I’d not trouble you with this matter at all if I didn’t believe it important.”

“You’re not about to bruise my ego,” he said. “Please, speak freely.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “There is an issue in the city district commonly known as Lor’naris. It seems soldiers acting as city guards have been harassing the residents.”

Panissar frowned. “Harassing? In what way?”

“So far, it has been limited to verbal attempts at intimidation, but the matter is gradually escalating. The guards have repeatedly tried to disperse the neighborhood watch, and most recently attempted to arrest them on entirely specious grounds.”

“Attempted to arrest?”

“In fact,” she said dryly, “they attempted to arrest everyone present. Including me.”

“Now, that is fascinating,” he said grimly. “I can’t think of a single good damn reason why I haven’t been informed of such an event taking place. Ah, pardon my language.”

She nodded. “The residents have turned to me for help. I’ve sent a message to the commander of the local barracks, but… I expect little result from that, frankly. Any further action on my part would be disruptive to your chain of command, which I of course would rather avoid. That’s why I sought you out.”

“I appreciate that,” he said thoughtfully.

“Then I trust you’ll address the matter?”

“Mm,” Panissar murmured. “I will definitely look into it. I have an immediate need to know of any such things occurring among my soldiers. But before I make you any promises, General Avelea… Based on what you’ve told me so far, addressing the matter in any concrete way might not be the right move.”

She looked shocked, an expression which slowly began to morph into frustration. “I’m not sure I understand…”

“Let me apologize, now, if I seem impertinent,” he said. “I know you’ve had the best training available. Have you had much experience in actual battle?”

“I wouldn’t say much,” she admitted. “Some centaurs, a few bandits. Not substantial engagements.”

Panissar nodded. “Did you command troops in any of these conflicts?”

“Not…troops. Civilian recruits. Some…adventurers.”

He winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.

“Inexperience isn’t a failing unless you refuse to remedy it,” said Panissar. “In this case, it’s my experience leading soldiers for the last several decades that makes me reluctant to take direct action. I can’t speak for the Silver Legions, obviously, but this is actually something for which officers in the Imperial Army are trained; the Empire has frequently needed to station forces among native populations who aren’t always happy with the presence of troops. There’s an art to keeping peace between soldiers and foreign civilians, and direct confrontation isn’t any part of it.”

“Direct confrontation is absolutely the last thing anyone wants,” she said earnestly. “That’s exactly why I’d hoped you would call down the offending regiment. This pattern of behavior goes well beyond just a few individuals.”

“There are more kinds of confrontation than soldiers clashing with rebels,” he said. “Tolerance is a lot like morale; you can’t just order your soldiers to have it. It must be carefully fostered. The important thing to understand about the bigoted mind, General Avelea, is what it fears.”

Her eyebrows rose sharply. “Fears?”

He nodded. “Lor’naris isn’t just drow, you know. Oh, there are a few drow adventurers who came to Tiraas looking for who-knows-what, I’m not contesting that. The vast majority of the drow in that district, however, moved there because they chose human mates and their own families weren’t having any of it back in Tar’naris. And of those pairings, a lot are my former soldiers who were stationed at Fort Vaspian and the Imperial embassy in Tar’naris itself. That is what the bigoted mind fears: normal people living out the contradiction of its ideas. Proof that it is wrong. Bad enough that the drow and humans of Lor’naris are all cuddly with each other; they’ve gone and become successful, which must be absolutely infuriating. This kind of thing is why the most ardent racists get more worked up over halfbloods than they do about actual elves or dwarves or whatever their problem is.”

“This is quite interesting,” she said patiently, “but I’m not sure how it pertains to the matter of enforcement.”

“Just that coming down on the troops who are causing this ruckus won’t solve the problem,” he said. “Oh, if this were wartime, if the overall situation were worse in any of a number of possible ways, that’s exactly what I’d do. But it’s not. This is about the culture of my Army and the welfare of this city, and that means…” He sighed. “…that it doesn’t get to be simple. Ordering those soldiers to lighten up, even disciplining them, will make them dig their heels in. Consider the positives of the situation. A lot of those residents are fellow soldiers, or were. A lot of those serving in that barracks are likely just toeing the line; the cohesiveness of the unit is a powerful force, and many of them may not have any animosity toward the residents. Shutting them down would alleviate the current tension at the cost of entrenching those attitudes, making them much harder to root out in the future.”

“What do you intend to do, then?” she asked. Avelea was holding to her self-control, but he could plainly see the frustration on her face. Were she any junior officer of his, Panissar would have laid a hand on her shoulder, but Legionnaires could be prickly about men touching them without permission. He contented himself with folding his hands behind his back.

“Don’t think I’m going to ignore this, General,” he said firmly. “I greatly appreciate you bringing it to my attention. I had no idea any of this was going on, and it’s always preferable to act from a position of knowledge. First, though, I need to gather more information, and if and when action is necessary, it will be of the careful variety, and possibly not undertaken from within the Army itself. This is a good job for diplomats, religious leaders and civic organizers. The folk in Lor’naris have a solid reputation for being able to handle their own affairs, too. It should never be an excuse for apathy,” he added more gently, “but sometimes, the best thing you can do actually is nothing. Provided you do that nothing in a careful, controlled manner and stand ready to take action if it becomes needful.”

“I see,” she said stiffly, and Panissar barely managed not to sigh. Yes, she might be disciplined and mature for her age, but… Teenagers always thought they could save the world. A teenager who was the personal Hand of a goddess was doubtless ten times as bad.

Avelea turned to stare thoughtfully out over the garden, and one good look at her expression told Panissar he hadn’t heard the last of this.

It almost made him eager to get back to the party.

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5 – 10

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“First duty shift?”

They both nodded, Farah adding a belated “Yes, ma’am” after a moment.

“Don’t call me ma’am, I work for a living,” replied the Legionnaire, but she did so with a lazy grin.

“It’s a good shift to pull for first-timers,” added the other, older soldier, indicating the great temple space with a jerk of her head. Reflexively, Casey glanced around the huge chamber, at the Legionnaires standing at attention, the priestesses near the dais with its grand statue of Avei, the worshipers and petitioners coming and going. She couldn’t help feeling vaguely uncomfortable, as if she ought to be doing something specific, but they had been posted to the front of the temple, ready to be put to use as needed by Avei’s guests and at the discretion of the overseeing priestess. In between such discretionary acts, this seemed to chiefly involve standing around, waiting.

“I was sort of afraid they’d assign us to guard the Temple of Izara,” Farah admitted, permitting herself a shy smile.

The younger soldier snorted a laugh. “Yeah, they threaten all the newbies with that. Don’t worry, cadets are rarely assigned guard duty at non-Avenist temples. The bronze are too afraid you’ll do something to embarrass the faith.”

“I would be, too,” Farah murmured, adjusting her cuirass for the umpteenth time. Their armor was visibly lighter than that of full Legionnaires, but both of them were still very much unaccustomed to the weight. This was their first actual duty shift wearing it.

“Well, if you’d care to make yourself useful, keep your mind off the armor and the pressure, this posting means you can do some basic caretaking duties around the temple,” the younger Legionnaire said casually. “Refill the pixie dust, for example.”

Farah blinked. “Pixie dust?” Casey narrowed her eyes.

“Nobody likes doing it,” the soldier went on, while her older partner watched impassively. “It involves getting up on a ladder and opening the fairy lamps manually; it’s a pain. You’d probably rack up some serious brownie points for making the effort.”

“I…uh…what?” Farah frowned at her in confusion, then craned her neck to look around at the globes set above each of the hall’s columns, between the stained glass windows lining its upper story. “Fairy lamps are fully self-contained. Aren’t they?” she added uncertainly.

“The new ones, sure. These are historic, though; they won’t even hear about upgrading them. Apparently there was enough of a flap back when they put these in; the priestesses aren’t about to mess with the temple’s décor again. You can find pixie dust in with the cleaning supplies in the second sub-basement.”

“All fairy lamps, by definition, are self-contained and would simply break if you opened them.” Casey said firmly to Farah, then turned a hard stare on the Legionnaire. “It’s not kind, or just, to play pranks on someone who’s already out of her element. Ma’am.”

The soldier glared at her. “Are you sassing me, cadet?”

“All right, private, that’s enough,” the older woman interrupted. “You’ve had your fun, and she’s not wrong. Mind the chain of command, girl,” she added to Casey, “but good show of backbone. You’ll do well in the Legions.”

Farah suddenly snapped to attention, her eyes widening. The two Legionnaires followed her gaze, then immediately straightened up themselves, looking similarly shocked. Casey had to turn around to see what was up.

They had been approached by another soldier; Casey reflexively looked for her rank insignia to see what had the others so startled, but the woman didn’t seem to have any. She was going to catch hell for that from her commanding officer… Couldn’t have been very highly ranked, though; she was barely older than Casey and didn’t seem even as old as Farah. Just a rangy teenage girl with blonde hair tied back in a regulation braid.

Only then did she process the fact that the newcomer’s armor was silver, not bronze. In the space of half a second, Casey cycled through shock, self-recrimination and nausea, and only then finally came to attention, saluting. Beads of sweat manifested on her temples.

“All right, there, cadet?” the Hand of Avei asked mildly, looking directly at her.

Casey fervently wished she could just skip the preamble and die on the spot. “Yes, ma’am!”

The young paladin glanced her over. “You weren’t raised in the Avenist tradition, were you, cadet…?”

Outright terror burst in her. This was it; her first day in armor, and she had managed to antagonize General Avelea herself. She was going to be thrown out of the Sisters, and then straight into a prison like her parents…

“Cadet Elwick, ma’am!” she barked, frantically trying to suppress the quaver in her voice. “No, ma’am!”

Avelea nodded. “All these regulations and practices must seem downright oppressive.”

Oh, goddess, she was just fishing for an excuse now.

“Not at all, ma’am,” Casey croaked. “I find it…that is, it’s all very…”

“Arbitrary,” Avelea said with a smile. “Pushy, pointless, and apparently calculated to exhaust and confuse you to no real purpose. Yes?” There was absolutely no safe reply to that, but while Casey was struggling to come up with something, to her astonishment the General reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s like that for everyone, Elwick,” she said gently. “Getting through training takes faith. I don’t mean in religion; faith that the rules serve a purpose, and faith in yourself that you’ll find the strength to push through. You truly will, though. In hindsight, you’ll be astonished by how much sense it all makes, and how much you’ve grown for the experience.” She let her hand fall, turning her head to include the other three in the conversation. “At ease.”

They didn’t ease up much, considering whose company they were in, but did relax slightly, staring. Casey couldn’t tear her gaze off the paladin’s face; suddenly, all she could think was that Avei had chosen perfectly. She could see herself following this woman into battle.

“General Avelea,” said Sister Ramousi, gliding over to join them. “Welcome. Forgive the reception; I was not even aware that you were in the city.”

“It’s something of a surprise to me, too,” said Avelea. “I won’t take up your time, Sister. If someone could simply direct me to the quartermaster? I’m afraid I haven’t visited this temple often enough to remember the layout that well.”

“Of course!” said the priestess. “I’ll be glad to escort you, with a proper honor guard.”

“That isn’t at all necessary,” the paladin said quickly. “Your soldiers have much better things to do than chaperone me around. Directions will suffice; I can find my way.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Ramousi replied. “Quite the opposite, it’s a matter of honor. You have not visited the Temple in several years; we cannot do less than show the respect due your station.”

Avelea looked momentarily annoyed, but quickly schooled her features. “If you say so, Sister. I wouldn’t want to let down the dignity of the temple.”

“If you will follow me, then?” Sister Ramousi bowed to her, then nodded at the two Legionnaires and their attending cadets. “Fall in, ladies. Lieutenant! Cover the door post, please.”

Stares and whispers followed them as they crossed the great chamber. For once, Casey didn’t have to struggle with the irrational worry that somebody had sussed out her secret; everyone was quite obviously watching the paladin. Endearingly, she seemed slightly uncomfortable with the attention. All in all, Trissiny Avelea was not how Casey would have imagined her. If anything, she was much better.

It eased up when they passed into the quieter halls of the temple. Avelea and Ramousi walked in the front of their little formation, the priestess deftly leading the way without stepping in front of the paladin. The Legionnaires followed on their heels, with the two cadets bringing up the rear. Farah and Casey took advantage of the momentary lack of scrutiny to exchange excited glances.

Once they were out of the full view of the public, the General spoke to her guide. “If I could trouble you to carry a message to High Commander Rouvad, Sister, I would like to arrange a meeting in the next few days, as soon as it is convenient.”

“Of course, I’ll be glad to,” Ramousi said, somehow managing to bow while walking without looking foolish. “If you wish to speak with her today, though, you most assuredly are entitled to her time.”

“The Commander is busy,” Avelea said firmly. “I will not disrupt the running of this Temple and the Sisterhood by intruding on her schedule unless the matter is urgent. Which it is not.”

“Very well,” Ramousi said diplomatically. “If you have questions or concerns of a lesser nature, General, I’d be glad to offer any insight I may?”

She left the suggestion hanging. From the rear, Casey of course couldn’t see the General’s expression, but the quiet stretched out as they walked. She had just about decided Avelea was refusing to continue the conversation when the paladin spoke.

“Are all temples and facilities used by the Sisters consecrated?”

“As…a matter of policy, yes,” Sister Ramousi said slowly. “Some divisions of the Legions, in particular, may make temporary use of unsanctified structures and locations, but blessing the spaces we use is a high priority, both for spiritual and defensive reasons.”

“Even our social outreach missions? Women’s shelters?”

“Of course.”

“Hm. Then what considerations are put in place for the care of demonbloods?”

Ramousi actually missed a step. “Demonbloods, General? What… Are you referring to prisons?”

There was a bite in Avelea’s tone when she answered. “I was discussing, specifically, shelters. The Sisterhood offers sanctuary to any woman who claims need of it. If all our facilities are sanctified, how do we accommodate half-demons?”

“I… I am not sure that has ever come up. Or would.”

“No? Who, I ask you, is in a more vulnerable position in Tiraan society than a demonblooded woman? She would face all manner of persecution through no fault of her own.”

“Half-demons do show a pronounced proclivity toward joining the Black Wreath, General…”

“That’s hardly a wonder, if they are denied any better options.”

“Perhaps, General, you may fail to appreciate the full historical context of the issue,” Sister Ramousi said very carefully. “I have made something of a study of the history of our faith. Like all the cults of the Pantheon’s gods, the Sisters of Avei have always been a specifically human institution. Of course, we welcome any who are called to Avei’s service, and there are elves, gnomes and dwarves among our ranks. But originally and ultimately, the Sisters have been raised up for the protection of the human race. Our species does not enjoy the natural advantages of many of the others. We haven’t the longevity or magical aptitude of the elves, the hardiness of dwarves, the resilience of lizardfolk or the famous gnomish versatility and adaptability. If you will forgive me for pointing it out, General, this is why paladins have always been human. The gods protect us as their chosen. If the demon-blooded are not accorded a share of this protection…perhaps that is the will of the gods at work.”

“I see,” the paladin said quietly. Casey had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. Showing her tongue to a priestess and the bloody Hand of Avei herself would lead to nothing but trouble.

“It seems the world truly is changing, then,” Avelea said after a pause. “And surely Avei must expect us to change with it. Why else select a half-elf as a paladin?”

Farah stumbled, but luckily, no one so much as glanced back. Casey could almost see the two Legionnaires studying their paladin with fresh eyes, taking note of her golden hair, lean build and narrow features. She could definitely see the wide-eyed priestess half-turn to do the same.

“Thank you, Sister,” Avelea said politely. “You have given me some things to think about.”

Ramousi managed a strangled noise that might have been acquiescence. Casey was paying her no attention, her gaze fixed on Trissiny Avelea’s back past the shoulder of the soldier in front of her.

Never mind battle. She would follow this woman straight into Hell.

 

Getting the day to herself had been refreshingly challenging. Kheshiri’s management of Shook had become stiflingly routine, almost dull; she’d had to think creatively and make good use of their surroundings in order to get out from under his thumb for a few hours.

Luckily, their surroundings included Alan Vandro’s constantly rotating collection of vapid young women drawn to his villa by the promise of leisure, fun, free food and booze, and if they played their cards right, the prospect of becoming a kept woman to one of the wealthy men who also frequented the estate. For a certain kind of person, any number of little indignities were bearable if it meant attaining a comfortable life without having to get a real job.

Shook, of course, had noticed them—often, and in detail. They’d noticed him, too, and taken note of his clearly privileged position in Vandro’s eyes. He had kept fairly aloof, however, concerned about his anonymity and the Guild hunting them… At least until Kheshiri had started getting clingy and jealous. When she began viciously trying to chase other girls away from him, Shook had latched onto an amenable pair and led them toward his room. A particularly shrill tantrum from Kheshiri had resulted in her being banished from the suite with instructions not to wander far.

For a being who had traversed continents, centuries and the very planes of existence, “far” was an extremely relative term.

Now she knelt in a small, natural cave she’d found connected to the city’s sewers. Some detritus strewn in its corners suggested this place had once been used by smugglers, back in the days before Onkawa’s extremely lax import and export laws made most smuggling pointless. Kheshiri was losing patience and growing tense; she couldn’t afford to spend any more time than necessary at this, and she was on her fourth attempt already. The first three summons she had attempted had yielded nothing, the demons called upon either dead or already on the mortal plane. Much had changed while she’d languished inside that damned reliquary. She was running out of names, and wasn’t about to risk calling up an unknown.

Before her was drawn the faintly glowing circle, on which she was putting the final tweaks, spelling out yet another name in demonic runes. More modern enchanting paraphernalia sat in neat stacks near her. The night before, Vandro had taken them to his “guy” in the city to get her reliquary modified for improved stealth. She knew, then, to leave him alone, and had confined her “shopping” to other enchanting suppliers throughout the city, making use of a different face for each. None had even caught her stealing, but if any happened to remember her after they discovered their missing goods, whatever they told the city guard would lead them nowhere.

The fascination of applying a small arcane charge to the summoning circle hadn’t worn off, at least. Back in her day, this would have involved no end of chanting. She’d still be on the first attempt, in all likelihood. Really, it was amazing the things humans came up with.

She all but cheered aloud when a figure began to form inside the circle this time, but kept her calm and put on a smug, aloof smile while he coalesced. In just a few seconds, the incubus was fully present, peering around quizzically and stretching his wings until the tips brushed the edges of the circle. He grinned, his eyes falling upon her.

“Well! This is the best in a string of surprises. It’s been, what…ninety years? I thought you’d been bound, Kheshiri.”

“Oh, they tried,” she said airily. “You should know I’m not so easily taken.”

“That’s not what I hear,” he said with a leer.

“Now, now, let’s be polite, Adrimas,” she admonished, grinning and wagging a finger at him. “I’m assuming you do want out of that circle eventually, yes?”

“And I’m assuming it’s going to cost me,” he said lazily. “By all means, darling, let’s hear it. I’m in a mood to be mercantile; I’m sure you know very well I’d part with everything but my manhood to be loose on the mortal plane again.”

“Well, before you go running off and getting into trouble, you may want to hear a bit about how humans have advanced. You just would not believe some of the stuff they can do, now. For example.” She picked up a slender object from the nearby pile of arcane goods and held it up between thumb and forefinger, waggling it at him.

Adrimas leaned forward till his nose nearly brushed the tubular field containing him, peering quizzically at the tip of the wand as she shifted her grip to the clicker. “What’s that?”

At that range, the shot threw him bodily backward. He bounced off the back of the circle, sliding down to lie twitching at its base, his whole head a smoking ruin. It was only seconds before he suddenly slumped through the invisible wall that had been partially propping him up, wings and one leg flopping outside it as well. The summoning circle had been designed to contain living demons, not dead flesh of hellish origin.

Kheshiri hummed to herself, exchanging the wand for for a large hunting knife and setting up her sample jars in the arcane cooling matrices that would keep their contents fresh for weeks (according to the manufacturer, anyway). She got to work, collecting and storing pieces of flesh. Piled on her other side was work for another day, the much more complex tangle of spell components and golem logic controllers. She’d have to do some finagling to mix that enchantment with her infernal craft, but the right modern golem circuitry in combination with the proper spells and the all-impotant magical substance of an incubus should, in theory, yield six portable, self-driving illusions. Servitors that would play her assigned role in Vandro’s plan, impersonating the conspirators, while Kheshiri herself, left behind while the others went to burgle the chieftain’s safe, would find herself with a wholly free evening—at exactly the right time to make the best use of it.

She worked as quickly as she could without sacrificing precision. Best to be back at Shook’s side as soon as possible; today’s window of freedom was brief, and not well-timed to take good advantage. Very soon, though, she’d have a better one. A perfect one.

 

“Hey, Toby!” Gabriel called across the common room, waving. “C’mon over!”

Toby threaded his way through the tables. It was early evening, yet, not by far the busiest time for inn common rooms, but it was already well into the dinner hour and the chamber was filling up. The noise and fuss was distracting, but it would afford a measure of privacy, he reflected as he slid into a seat across from his friend. Relative privacy would be good. So would sitting down and not having to be responsible for anything for a little while.

“Dang, you look worn out,” Gabriel observed, pouring an amber liquid from a pitcher into a mug and pushing it across to Toby. “Long day?”

The paladin peered suspiciously at his pint. “What, exactly, are you giving me?”

“Oh, relax,” Gabe said with a grin. “It’s spiced cider—the family friendly variety. Good stuff for this weather. Yeah, our jovial innkeeper has been warned against serving us the hard stuff.”

Toby took an experimental sip, then a longer one. He had learned to mistrust the food in this establishment, but the cider was actually quite good. “Mm. Thanks, I needed this. You do realize, though, you could probably get beer if you really wanted. It’s a big city, and Tellwyrn’s already left for Onkawa.”

“Why, mister Caine, are you trying to corrupt me? I am shocked. Shocked!”

“Oh, sod off,” Toby said, grinning. “Just not like you to pass up a chance for mischief, is all.”

“Yeah, well.” Gabriel paused to take a long drink of his own cider. “I’m reasonably sure Tellwyrn would just know, somehow. And then she’d strap me down, stuff a funnel in my gob and pour me full of holy water.”

Toby grimaced. “You know, I really wish it was harder for me to imagine her doing that.”

“I know, right? So what’s got you looking so knackered? Surely Juniper hasn’t caused any trouble. I have a feeling I’d have heard about it if she had.”

“No…nothing. Yet.” He took a long drink, staring contemplatively at the wall past Gabriel’s head. “That’s part of what’s starting to wear on me, Gabe. I’ve just got this feeling… Something is gonna go wrong. I can feel it.”

“Hm.” Gabe set down his mug and folded his arms on the table, leaning forward to peer at Toby. “This feeling. Is this an Omnu thing?”

“Not divine in origin, if that’s what you mean. I just…” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “She’s a dryad. In Tiraas. How can this possibly go anything but badly? But all she’s done so far is just…look. Walk around, look at stuff. She seems kind of confused, really, like everything’s disorienting. No hostility. I’m starting to go a little crazy from the anticipation, I think.”

Gabriel leaned backward. “Toby, don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

“Oh, this should be good.”

“Well, if you’re not getting a warning from Omnu about this…maybe it’s all in your head?”

“My head,” Toby repeated, giving him a look.

Gabriel shrugged. “Let’s face it, you’re a worrier. This is not news. You feel responsible for everything that goes on anywhere near you, you’re always wanting to help people and prevent any kind of misfortune.”

“This whole thing is a giant misfortune waiting to happen!”

“Is it, though? Honestly, man, I think you’re not giving Juniper enough credit. Or Tellwyrn, when it comes down to it. Yeah, she’s definitely a sink-or-swim mentor, but think back. She’s never tossed us into a river where we didn’t have the chance, at least, to swim. Plus, for all her big bad wizard act, I don’t think she wants to piss off the Empire. Who would? I suspect the situation with Juniper is more stable than you’re thinking.”

“Hm.” Tobdy drummed his fingers absently on the table, frowning in thought.

“This kinda concerns me, actually,” Gabe went on, regarding him seriously. “Juniper is… I don’t know if ’empathic’ is the word, but she’s got senses we don’t. People senses. She responds very directly to emotion.”

“I thought that was all sexual stuff.”

“It’s mostly sexual stuff,” Gabriel admitted. “But…not all, no. I think she can perceive people’s feelings sort of directly. At least, I’ve known her to pick up on things that…well, that’s neither here nor there.”

“Uh huh,” Toby said, grinning.

“What concerns me,” Gabriel went on hastily, “is if you’re spending all day around her, being all tense and nervous and holding the idea in your head that she’s about to snap or something… Well, I can sort of see that becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Y’know?”

“Hm. You’ve…maybe got a point,” Toby said reluctantly. “I don’t know what else to do, though. With all respect to our roommates, I don’t think it’s smart leaving them in charge of a dryad by themselves.”

“Yeah, no, you’ll get no argument from me on that.” Gabriel grinned broadly, picked up his mug again and took a drink.

“Well, why don’t you come with us, then? I mean, what have you been doing all day? I know the girls are all tied up in preparations for that party tonight.”

“I’ve been hanging around at the local magic shop,” Gabe said casually. “The shopkeeper is…interesting. Nicer to me than most people in the city, too.”

“Well, how about you come along with Juniper and the boys and me tomorrow? I bet you’d be a help in getting her acclimated. She likes you.”

“Oh, she likes everybody,” Gabriel said dismissively.

“Yes, that’s true… But in addition, she likes you.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really. I mean, don’t fall in love with her or anything…”

“I’m not quite that lacking in self-preservation,” he muttered.

“I wasn’t gonna make assumptions,” Toby said with a grin. “But seriously. She does like you. She’s calmer around you.”

“Where is she now, by the way?”

“Upstairs with the fellas,” Toby said, wincing.

“With the…ah.”

They both drank.

“…wanna take bets whether they’ll come out grinning or traumatized?”

“I am a monk, Gabriel,” Toby said piously. “Gambling is a sin.”

Gabe snorted. “Especially for someone who’s as bad at it as you.”

“That aside,” Toby said more thoughtfully, “you’ve gotten remarkably insightful lately. It’s almost like you’re growing up or something.”

“You know, I’ve discovered the most fascinating thing,” Gabe said cheerfully. “So I walk around doing stupid shit like I always do, y’know? But it turns out, if I pay attention to what happens as a result of that, sometimes I actually learn stuff. Incredible, right?”

“Wow. You should write a book.”

“I’m thinking about it!” He gestured with his half-empty mug. “Dumbass: The Life and Times of the World’s Lamest Half-Demon.”

“It’s got a nice ring to it.”

“Anyhow,” Gabriel went on, his expression sobering, “yeah, sure I’ll come with tomorrow. It’s not like I have anything better to do, and I do like hanging out with you guys. And Juniper, of course. Seriously, I don’t think you need to worry all that much. This must all be alien for her, but she’s smart. And Tellwyrn brought her here for a reason. I really think there’s more, y’know, humanity in her than we may be giving her credit for. Come on, she even looks almost human. Why would dryads look like beautiful women if there wasn’t something fundamentally human about them?”

Toby toyed with his mug, staring into it. “You remember last semester when I couldn’t find half the allegedly common medicinal plants Rafe set us to collect from around campus, and he let me do a research paper to make up the credit?”

“Mm?”

“I ended up reading a bit on the local insect life. Did you know the way fireflies flash is a kind of mating dance?”

“…kinky.”

“They actually signal with very precise timing. But out in the Golden Sea, there’s a species of predatory worm that climbs up on the tallgrass and flashes back at them. It uses exactly the right firefly signals to lure them in close, mimicking a receptive female. Then when an amorous firefly lands…crunch.”

He raised his eyes, staring grimly at Gabriel’s suddenly serious face.

“That’s why dryads look like beautiful women.”

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“It’s all so simple.”

“Hm?” Toby turned his head to look inquisitively at Juniper, who had been mostly quiet since they’d re-entered Lor’naris.

“I finally put my finger on what’s been bugging me about the city,” she said quietly, her gaze straight ahead but unfocused. “Humans love straight lines and right angles so much, and I’ve been puzzling over it… I don’t see the benefit. I think I’ve figured it out, though. Lines and angles mean simple patterns. Patterns you can easily design and…and control.”

“Patterns?”

She nodded. “Everything is patterns; everything is mathematics, ultimately. Nature has no restraints on its complexity, though. So much in nature looks completely chaotic from any one, limited perspective… But it’s not. There’s always a pattern. A lot of it is fractal. And that’s what it all comes down to: simplicity, and control. Everything humans make is square because you can clearly see the whole pattern of square things. You master it by making it. There’s nothing in it to remind you of how tiny and insignificant you are in the grand scope of things.”

He walked along in silence for a moment, digesting this.

“Deep, man,” said Rook behind them. Moriarty let out one of his exasperated sighs.

“That’s…actually a kind of compelling theory,” Finchley mused. “My dad told me something similar, once.”

“We could go back to the park later,” Toby suggested, “or a different one? There are quite a few in the city. You didn’t get a chance to really explore…”

“Ugh. Parks.” Juniper actually shuddered. “Please, no. At least the city is honest about itself; it’s supposed to be all bricks and planks and flat surfaces. Seeing all those plants corralled into that… That pre-planned space… Trees in a park are no better off than eagles in a cage. They can’t be happy there, but they don’t know any other life. It’s depressing.”

He could find no answer to that, instead glancing reflexively around the street. Few people paid their group any attention, which was refreshing. All day as they’d strolled around the city, visiting spots he thought Juniper might find interesting, intent stares had followed them. Some of those were doubtless from the agents of Imperial Intelligence which were supposed to be keeping tabs on the dryad, but the attention was more than could be explained by this alone. He well understood the cause, and it made him uneasy.

They didn’t fit with any understood pattern. Some in the city might recognize his face, but he as casually dressed, and the monks of Omnu and the Universal Church had tried to limit access to him until he was grown and educated. Juniper, for her part, was just another pretty girl, albeit one who behaved a little oddly, and whose dress and shawl were constantly disheveled because she couldn’t stop tugging at them. But for such an otherwise unremarkable couple to be followed by Imperial soldiers was attention-getting, and the exact composition of their escort was worse for those who knew about such things. Three troopers was odd; escorts were almost always even in number. Plus, these were all privates, equal in rank and unsupervised by any officer, which was all but unheard of. Toby had considered asking them to wear civilian clothes in the future, but a day spent in Moriarty’s company had warned him off suggesting such a huge breach in regulations.

Among the rambunctious students of the University and the straightforward folk who inhabited Last Rock, he’d begun to let himself forget some of the things he liked least about life in the city. The nature of Tiraas was the same everywhere, from the meanest slum to the halls of the Palace itself, but growing up dividing his time between working and meditating with fellow monks and prowling the back streets with Gabriel, Toby had remained blissfully ignorant of politics—until Omnu decreed he should take a central role in the world’s events. Then, he’d been forced to learn quickly. Nobles, priests, the wealthy and the ambitious… They watched like hawks, latching onto anything they could use. Anything out of the ordinary was either a threat or an opportunity to them, sometimes both. Toby could hardly imagine what would happen when somebody tried to make use of Juniper in his or her schemes, but it wasn’t going to be pretty. Omnu grant that Tellwyrn would take them back to Last Rock before anything went that far…

“Home again, home again,” Rook said cheerfully, and Toby realized with a pang of guilt that the man had been talking the whole time he’d lapsed into rumination. He tried never to ignore anyone, but the more time he spent in Private Rook’s company, the easier it became to tune his prattle out. More than half of his jokes and commentary had been underhanded flirtation with the fairy they were escorting, and nearly all of it had gone right over her head. Toby was seriously considering suspending his policy of staying out of other people’s personal business, taking Rook aside and explaining that if he wanted to bed Juniper his best bet was just to ask nicely.

“Home again,” he agreed with some relief as they stepped into the common room of the relatively warm inn, nodding to the innkeeper, who grinned broadly in response. Tellwyrn—or, more likely, Tellwyrn’s gold—was apparently well-liked in this establishment. Hopefully that would help in smoothing over any trouble the students caused. Toby wasn’t quite optimistic enough to believe there’d be none.

Juniper, who for most of the day had been content to let herself be led around, now took the lead, climbing the stairs in silence. Her moods were hard to interpret, but she seemed troubled by something. That was bothersome, and not just because she was a friend. A troubled dryad in the heart of Tiraas could cause untold havoc. What could Tellwyrn have been thinking?

The others, with the exception of their professor, had already assembled in the top floor common area when they reached the top of the stairs.

“Hey, guys!” Ruda called, waving languidly. She sat sideways in an armchair with her knees over one arm and her head hanging off the other, her hat hung on a corner of the chair’s back. “Good timing, the boss lady just popped off to fetch us some dinner.”

“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” Toby said, ambling over to join Gabriel by the window.

“Bite your tongue,” Gabe said, grinning. “It is never too early, or too late, or too anything for a free meal.”

“What he said,” Rook agreed.

“How was your day?” Teal asked. “We haven’t seen any of you since this morning.”

“Well, it’s a big city,” Finchley noted. Juniper had seated herself in a chair and was frowning pensively at the far wall, again tugging at the collar of her dress.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” Toby said, smiling at Teal. “We mostly just walked around a bit, visited some of the sights. It seemed like a good way to show Juniper the city.”

“I tried to blend in,” the dryad said, finally lifting her gaze. “Lots of people were staring, though.”

“That probably wasn’t to do with you,” said Trissiny, frowning. “Men, starting tomorrow, this is to be considered discreet ops. Civilian attire only.”

“Yes, General,” Moriarty said with such obvious relief that Toby felt abashed. It had been arrogant to assume he was the only member of the group who’d spotted the problem.

“Thank you,” he said quietly to her. She glanced over and actually smiled momentarily, before her expression stilled and she sharply turned her stare back to the window.

Toby withheld a sigh. She would get over it, in time… But when? He missed their camaraderie. It wasn’t just that he authentically liked Trissiny, or that she was the only fellow paladin in the world. She hadn’t been wrong; they did make excellent counterpoints to each other in many ways. It was nobody’s fault they’d never be able to do so in the way she wanted.

“Ah, good!” Professor Tellwyrn said, appearing at the head of the stairs. “Everyone’s finally here; we can proceed. Clear a space, please.”

As everybody shuffled back from the low table in the middle of the room, she gesticulated casually at it, and suddenly the lounge was filled with spicy aromas as steaming platters of food appeared, with a neat stack of plates and utensils on one end.

“Oh, hell yes!” Ruda crowed, surging to her feet. “You beautiful freak, I could kiss you!”

“Strictly prohibited by campus policy,” Tellwyrn said, smiling faintly. “And I wasn’t pandering to your sensibilities, Zaruda. Puna Dara curry is just the thing to cut the chill of a Tiraan winter. You’ll note the pitcher of milk: that’s a consideration for the more than half of you whom I expect to be unequal to the spice. Dig in, everybody. Oh, for the… Neatly! Form a line, people. Omnu’s breath, it’s like you’ve never seen food before.”

Tellwyrn evidently wasn’t hungry; she hung back near the windows, smiling faintly and making acerbic observations about people’s table manners while they gathered up plates of food in cheerful disorder. The cuisine ran heavily to fish, but was unfamiliar to most of them, and the act of dishing up noodles, meat and steamed vegetables cut in exotic configurations wrought some confusion. Tellwyrn had provided both forks and the traditional chopsticks; Ruda was the only one who selected a pair of the latter. As they got down to eating, the milk did, indeed, become quite popular.

“All right,” the professor said finally once everyone was dutifully tucking in, “there’s been a change of plans that concerns you. Our stay in Tiraas will be extended by a few days, I’m not sure how much exactly. That being the case, I’ve popped back to Last Rock to collect assignments from you from your other professors. This was an unscheduled trip in the first place, and occurring as it does so early in the semester, you run the risk of being put behind if you don’t get some coursework in. Some have left lecture notes for you,” she said, producing a disconcertingly thick bundle of papers from thin air, “but most are reading assignments. You’ll have to acquire the books yourselves, but there are no shortage of Nemitite libraries in this city, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Toby had felt a sinking sensation at her first pronouncement, and now glanced furtively at Juniper, who was chewing a mouthful of fish and looking uncharacteristically morose. He hadn’t realized until this moment just how concerned he was. She’d done nothing aggressive so far, not even hinted at hostility, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that the longer the dryad remained in the city, the closer they came to a real problem.

“Why the extension?” Gabriel asked, fanning his face. He was flushed from the curry.

“My appointment in Tiraas has turned into a somewhat more complicated quest,” she said. “The details don’t concern you, but I will need to visit Onkawa for a few days. You lot will remain here, tend to your work and proceed with what you were doing. I’m satisfied with your progress so far.”

“What progress?” Trissiny exclaimed, but was quickly shouted down by her roommate.

“Bullshit!” Ruda declared, pointing her chopsticks accusingly at Tellwyrn. “Why the fuck do we have to stay here in Slizzle City while you run off to bask in the capital of fucking sunshine?”

“Slizzle?” Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows.

“Combination of sleet and drizzle,” Tellwyrn said cheerfully. “I got it. Nice wordplay, Punaji.”

“Fuck you! Why can’t we come to Onkawa too?”

“Because your assignment is here,” the Professor said with implacable calm. “You are making good strides and the last thing I want is to disrupt your progress.”

“What progress?!” Trissiny demanded.

“All in good time,” said Tellwyrn with an enigmatic smile. “Explaining it would defeat the purpose. Suffice it to say, you’re doing just as I anticipated so far, and I have no doubt that you will absorb the relevant lesson by the time we’re done here. Now, then! The situation being what it is, we’re going to have a little lesson of our own while we’re here and before I have to leave in the morning. Everybody comfortable? Splendid. Boys, you can stick around; congratulations on getting to audit a lecture at my very exclusive University. People would kill for this opportunity.”

“I will bet ten doubloons that no one has ever killed for the chance to audit one of your lectures,” said Rook.

“Perhaps not, but people have paid a lot more than ten doubloons.”

“People such as all of us, for example,” Ruda grumbled.

“Not all,” said Gabriel with a grin. “Some of us earned scholarships.”

“Arquin, do you want me to come over there?”

“Flirt on your own time, kids,” Tellwyrn said brusquely, then pressed on while both of them stammered in incoherent outrage. “Class is now in session. Previously we were discussing the gods, their nature and origin. The focus of this class being what it is, the reason for covering this topic is obviously to keep in mind the impact the gods have had on the progress of history. What we went over in the last class was merely background; what remains is to cover the way in which gods impact the course of societies and nations. Their subtler workings, in short.

“Previously we discussed weaknesses of gods, ways in which their natures can be used against them, used to manipulate them and circumvent their behavior. In this class we will discuss the context in which that is applicable: the broader, subtler influence the gods have on the world. Dealing with them in person is another matter. A god incarnated into physical form is a thing in a class unto itself. It has been eight millennia since the last apotheosis; while there once were deities of all types and degrees of power, by this point the weaker ones have long since been picked off. Any extant deity, once before you in the flesh, as it were, has full agency and sufficient power to decisively overwhelm any other type of force which is currently known to exist. If you set yourself against a god and don’t manage to head him or her off before they arrive in front of you…you lose.”

“What’s the difference between subtle and more direct workings, then?” Teal asked.

“I was just coming to that very subject. Since you asked, Miss Falconer, let me reply with a question: How was your day?”

Teal blinked at her, then looked over at Shaeine, who shrugged. “Uh…fine?”

“Falconer, I should think that by now you know me well enough to realize I have no interest in pleasantries, especially not during class. I was asking for information. You have spent the day walking around Tiraas, with your hair hacked short, dressed in men’s clothing and in the company of another young woman. Tell me, what sort of reactions did you get to that?”

Teal’s face closed down. “I don’t know. I don’t bother to notice them anymore.”

“Really?” Tellwyrn said sardonically. “Impressive self-restraint.”

“It wasn’t really optional,” Teal said sharply. “Vadrieny doesn’t have much of a sense of humor about it. I barely stopped her from killing the girl who used to bully me as a kid.”

“I see. Fair enough, then. Miss Awarrion, you are keenly attuned to the responses of others. Tell me, did you notice any hostility toward the two of you on your outing today?”

“Nothing overt,” Shaeine said, calm as always. “A number of individuals seemed displeased to see us, but I assumed the response was to the presence of a drow. We were not harassed or accosted.”

“Well, let me put it another way.” Tellwyrn leaned back slightly, glancing around the room. “Does anyone doubt that there was an adverse social reaction to Teal walking around the city quite visibly being gay as a solstice tree?”

“Is there a point to this?” Teal demanded, with more of a bite in her tone.

“I don’t pick on people because their suffering amuses me, Falconer. Not students, anyway. You’ve all encountered the attitudes of which I speak.” She began to pace up and down, as she usually did when she got well into a lecture, though the little lounge didn’t provide her nearly as much space as her classroom. “A woman’s place is in the kitchen. Boys kiss girls and vice versa, and anyone who says differently is an aberration. Why should this be so? A mere few blocks from us is the greatest concentration of Avenist power outside of Viridill itself. Not far from that is the central temple of Izara, who resolutely teaches that all love is good. Indeed, Teal and Shaeine weren’t overtly pestered; the city of Tiraas is probably one of the more accepting places in the Empire for two women strolling hand-in-hand. But throughout the Empire itself, these attitudes prevail. How can this be?”

“Well…based on context, I’d say you’re talking about the influence of the gods,” said Fross.

“Obviously, yes. In this case…?” She trailed off, peering around expectantly.

“Shaath,” said Gabriel after a moment.

“Interesting,” Tellwyrn mused. “Now what would make you think of him?”

“Well…he’s the most obvious culprit for the kind of social attitudes you’re talking about. Sort of infamous for it, actually.”

“Indeed. And yet, Shaathism is far from a majority faith. The lodge in Tiraas itself is little more than an afterthought, a glorified drinking hall. The actual cult of Shaath has never been large, and its areas of direct political influence are by definition on the outer fringes of the civilized world. How could such a deity possibly promote his worldview to the point that it seriously challenges that of Avei, one of the primary gods of the Pantheon?”

“Which one is Shaath?” Juniper asked.

“He’s the god of the wild,” said Toby. “The patron of hunters, explorers…” His eyes widened. “…and pioneers.”

Tellwyrn pointed at him, nodding in approbation. “Yes. Go on, Mr. Caine.”

“And…pioneers are kind of huge right now. The Empire’s putting enormous effort and resources into settling the frontier regions in the Great Plains. Popular fiction is full of cowboys and elves.”

“Precisely.” She clapped her hands and then rubbed them together, grinning. “In fact, Shaath and Avei have been doing this dance since time immemorial. You can tell at a glance whether a given society is in an expansionist phase, and how it is conducting that expansion, by observing how it treats women and anyone who lies outside the heterosexual norm.”

“To call that a ‘norm’ is counter—”

“Yes, Avelea, we all know you’re a feminist. At this point, you can just assume we all know, and refrain from harping on it every chance you get. Anyway. We have already discussed how an idea, a concept, a set of principles, is central to the very identity of a god. It naturally follows that they do their best to promote these ideas, but it is also important how the ideas promote them. The ascendance of Shaathist philosophy in cultures with minimal Shaathist belief is a prime example. Where one part of the god’s aspect—reverence for the wilderness and those who make their lives in it—is ascendant, other parts—such as a patriarchal approach to societal organization—ascend as well. In some cases, the distinction blurs, because most gods have fairly coherent identities and the concepts they embody are naturally associated. Shaathism is a good example precisely because patriarchy has nothing to do with the frontier spirit except in his cult. Seeing the connection play itself out in society is unmistakably seeing his influence at work. That, students, is the subtle influence of the gods. It’s not in bolts of lightning or divine visitations; those are things I could do, and have done. The gods slowly, imperceptibly, gently twist the very world around us on an incomprehensibly vast scale.”

“Well, that’s not terrifying or anything,” Gabriel muttered.

“Mr. Arquin, if you’re not afraid of the gods, you’re a fool. I am not referring to your ancestry, either. These are beings of truly awesome scope and power. That they can be outmaneuvered, that they can even be killed, does not change this fact. They are not lightly to be challenged, for the same reason that hurricanes are not.”

“So… You talked about manipulating the gods,” said Fross. “Can you do that with their, y’know, ideas? Try to change societies by promoting one god? Or vice versa?”

“The attempt to change society by promoting a given god is a large part of what religion is,” Tellwyrn pointed out. “But yes, I do know what you’re referring to; it’s known as ‘the impossible arithmetic’ by scholars. Measuring and taking advantage of the social influence of deities on a smaller scale is something on a par with astrology in terms of the sheer silliness of the effort. Which is not to say that people don’t try to do it.”

“What, you don’t believe in astrology?” Ruda asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of wizard?”

“There are two common fallacies when it comes to astrology,” said Tellwyrn. “One is that the position of heavenly bodies has no influence on life on this world, and the other is that they have a strong enough influence to be discernible. In practice, astrology is relevant in certain kinds of ritual spellcasting and almost nothing else. The influences are there, and they are real, but they are effortlessly overwhelmed by mundane, terrestrial concerns. So it is with the subtler workings of the gods, in general. Indeed, only on the scale of civilizations the size of the Tiraan Empire are such movements even observable, and that without any great deal of precision. Attempts are made to calculate these considerations for short-term political gain, but frankly, if you’re going to try to use a god’s influence for your own benefit, you’re better off just going to temple services.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Trissiny said. “First you say the gods are powerful beings in person, who can overwhelm just about any force. Then you say their broader influence is so subtle it might as well not be there except in the very long term.”

“A good point, Avelea, and precisely the concern which will concern our explorations in this semester’s classes. We have discussed how Shaathist philosophy is currently predominant throughout the Empire; that era is coming to an end, however. Even now, the Rails are being upgraded, the Empire has all but secured the frontiers around the Golden Sea and the Deep Wild, allied with Tar’naris and effectively sealed the other two drow city-states in their own tunnels. The Age of Adventures is long acknowledged to be over, and its brief resurgence in the form of cowboy culture is soon to peter out. Soon enough, the lands occupied by people will be largely settled, and everyone will then turn themselves toward more civilized concerns—such as, for example, justice and war. Another age of Avei will rise. And the scale on which these things happen is so vast and so ponderously slow that in any remotely detailed survey of history, it is hardly worth considering.”

She smiled, looking pleased with herself. “What matters to us, as we study history, is the point where these two aspects of divine being intersect. The gods are forces, and they are individuals, and those two things interact. Not one of them is unintelligent, or unmotivated. As long as they’ve been at it, they have perfected the art of exerting just the right amount of force in just the right place to start events moving in the direction they want. Frequently, too, they find themselves at cross purposes; Avei and Shaath are far from the only two who have strong differences of opinion about how the world should be run. This is why the various cults are constantly scheming against each other, and why the formation of the Universal Church is such an astonishing achievement. I grouse about the Church, and for good reason, but the fact that it does as well as it does at keeping the cults in line and at peace is really incredible.”

Tellwyrn began pacing again. “A prime example of what I mean was in the peaceful annexation of Madouris by Tiraas seven centuries ago, and the Eighty Year War which immediately preceded it…”

 

“Four?” Darling said in surprise. “Already? Damn. It’s just been one day. I was expecting to be at this for weeks before we got so much as a nibble.”

“If your Grace is feeling overstimulated, there is plenty of time yet to be bored,” said Price calmly, still holding out the four telescroll envelopes on a silver tray. “As I’m sure I need not remind your Grace, these represent less than a third of the overtures sent out.”

He snatched the envelopes. “How many of them are interested? I assume you read these.”

“Indeed, your Grace, I took the liberty. All four acquiesce to your request. In fact, they appear rather eager to meet at your earliest convenience.”

“Four,” he mused, tugging papers out of envelopes and grinning as he beheld the names on each one. “No…five, counting Mary. Hm. Yes, I do believe this is enough to start with. Yes, this is actually a pretty solid group, decent balance of skills. Send out a batch of replies, Price; they’ll get their meeting. Oh, and put the scarecrow up on the roof again.”

Price looked pained, which he knew was deliberate. “If your Grace insists. When shall I schedule the meeting?”

“Let’s not waste any time; the gods only know what Khadizroth is doing while we dilly around. Set it up for tomorrow.”

She cleared her throat pointedly. “Regardless of these individuals’ apparent eagerness to meet, and the convenience of Rail travel, tomorrow morning is too soon to be feasible. Tomorrow night your Grace has consented to attend the gala at General Panissar’s house.”

“Oh, right. That.” Darling made a face. “That man throws the dullest parties… But the Emperor might come. Bugger, I really can’t afford to miss it… All right, the next day, then. First thing!”

“May I remind your Grace that none of these people is Arachne Tellwyrn. At least one is known to be even more prickly, and at least one other is prone to drinking heavily on a nightly basis. Proposing a breakfast meeting may be seen as…antagonistic.”

“Fine, fine,” he said impatiently. “In your finely-tuned social opinion, would lunch be appropriate?”

“Perhaps an hour before,” she said calmly. “To convey urgency, acknowledge the importance of their time and leave them the opportunity to make their own plans? We should offer them a meal and be prepared to provide it… But following your Grace’s proposal, it is likely they will want time to consider and discuss their options. These are people unaccustomed to answering to any supervisor. Granting their space will be paramount in keeping their interest.”

“Do what you think is best,” he said, striding around behind his desk and plopping down in the chair. “I do mean that, Price, I’m relying on your judgment. Keep me in the loop with your plans, but… We are not going to regard this as a trial run. We need to hook these people.” Darling set the papers down on the desktop and stabbed them with a fingertip for emphasis. “We’re not gonna get a better lineup. These are the ones I want.”

“Even aiming for late morning,” she replied, “this may prove…uncomfortable…for your Grace, given the party which is to take place the night before.”

“The boring party,” he said dismissively. “I don’t plan to be there late, and even if something interesting happens… Well, just have the coffee ready.” He spread out the four telescrolls, grinning fiendishly. “This is just too perfect. Mary the Crow, Gravestone Weaver, Tinker Billie, Longshot McGraw and the Sarasio Kid. If I can point these guys at Khadizroth, this is as good as over.”

Price made a subtle expression with her mouth that was far too proper to be either a grimace or a wince, but nonetheless conveyed her disapproval. “I trust your Grace is indulging in hyperbole, and need not be reminded that nothing is ever so quickly or neatly dealt with.”

“Well, of course,” he said, grinning. “Are you kidding me? I’m about to set fire to the barn, here. What matters is it’s his barn, and not mine.”

“I fervently hope your Grace is correct on that point.”

“Yeah.” He lowered his gaze to the slips of stiff, yellow paper, each bearing a terse message and the watermark of the Imperial scroll service. “Yeah, me too.”

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