Learning magic is like a negotiation between your soul and the world. Sometimes it is negotiation in the same way war is. Sometimes it’s not. With the storm raging outside it feels very much like the former.
Just as well, I’m more used to this form of diplomacy.
I make good progress on the spells, but it costs me sleep. Several times, even after the wind and thunder is over, I suddenly wake feeling the eye that makes the world inverting its gaze upon me. Very disturbing for one who has lived in hiding most of their life.
Fortunately, the absurd padding of the feathered mattress quickly smothers me back to sleep each time. So not too much rest is lost.
I really must get one of these when I reach capital. Spending a large gold piece for the best feathers and sheets might not be what Tanyth had in mind when she said ‘operation expenses’, but I’m starting to think one will be crucial… for spell research, of course.
I wake feeling refreshed, but a little sore. I open the window to see the sun has risen perhaps an hour ago. I had meant to rise sooner but am glad I didn’t.
The town is bustling, recovering from the storm. Puddles everywhere, signs of wind damage on trees and roofs, and one building burned down by lightning.
I quickly dress and pack, wash my face in the now cooled bath water, then head downstairs.
“Hey.” Tala says from behind the counter. She looks frightened. Eyes dilated, slight tremor, and glancing at random noises. Mostly composed though, so I doubt it’s anything eminent.
“You want breakfast? Special for our private rooms. We still have a few birds, and they laid some eggs this morning. For a silver you can have one, some hashed potatoes, a few greens and a cup of mixed tuber juice. All fresh from our garden out back– we hire a guard full time just for it.”
I hesitate for a moment, keeping in mind my resolution to spend as little as possible on food here. However, it sounds better than I’ll get for a while, and cheaper per content than the meagre meal last night. Though perhaps Tala is just better at selling it than her boss.
“All right, sounds good.” I say, producing the silver.
“Great! I’ll have it made right up.” She says, going to the kitchen to place the order then returning to continue her task behind the bar.
“So,” I say as she returns, “anything going on?”
“Oh yes, terrible news! Everyone’s talking about it. Last night before the storm, five people were found dead in a burning cesspit!”
“…that is terrible… but I was under the impression people are killed here all the time– at least in the current troubles.”
“Of course, a night doesn’t go by nowadays that a few people aren’t knifed for bread or coin. But only ever one or two people at a time, and usually only if they’re vulnerable. But a group of five people killed all at once?
“I always take one of the guards if I leave the square,” she gestures to one of the thugs I saw when I first entered, “but if that’s not even enough anymore then how can I make extra coin doing errands? Are we even safe in here? We never have more than two guards in at once.”
I examine the thugs guarding the room. They’re both muscular, posture ready for violence, and armed with cudgel, dagger and hand axe.
Each prominently displays a symbol to Vilnra, the god of protectors (distinct from Calmar who is the god of vigilance and defensive war whose focus is on punishing the aggressors.) who grants less strength than most who do and even less coordination, but also a normal reflex boost, high perception, high resilience and is one of the few deities who grants a combat level regeneration at their lowest boon, but only for wounds received while protecting their charge.
Either one would likely prove a harder fight than the whole group I put in the cesspit, especially if they’ve taken intermediate oaths.
I smile. “I think you’re underestimating your protectors. There is safety in numbers, but I’m sure the individuals in the group were weak on their own. Whereas anyone can see your guards are dangerous people and godsworn– which seems to be a big deal in these parts. They’re probably more intimidating to attack than your average group of five. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
“I suppose… they are saying a mind mage is being sent for to hunt the killers.”
“That… is frightening news.” She looks at me oddly and I remember most people think of the mind mages as guardian protectors rather than fearsome enemies, so I move to deflect. “I’ve heard all the mind mages are busy chasing rebels. You don’t suppose these murders are related to them, do you?”
“Oh my! That would be dreadful. It’s bad enough for the rebels to be causing problems outside the walls, but now they’re in town too? You were out a long time yesterday. I hope you didn’t run into any trouble.”
“…oh, not really. A few persistent beggars but nothing dangerous.”
“Oh good… I suppose you must know about this type of trouble from all your traveling.”
“A bit… though I haven’t been traveling on my own for long. You probably have a better sense than most from living in this town.”
“Oh, not really. Things only really got bad about a year ago, and since then I’ve been keeping to the main square. The guards escorting me often say I have no sense for trouble.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“Oh, well, I suppose if that mentality helps do your task more effectively then it’s not too bad to rely on professionals for caution, even if it does stress them out. Division of labour as the Arkothans say.”
“Aw, that sure is nice of you to say. Oh, your food’s ready. I’ll let you get to that and get back to cleaning.”
I take my food to an empty table and notice one of the guards glaring at me. I don’t know if it’s out of annoyance at me telling Tala it’s okay to make their jobs harder, or because they find me suspicious. Though, being suspicious, I always worry people find me so–though I try to keep that pushed down inside.
I ignore them in favour of eating. The greens are fleshy and bitter, but go well with the hashed potatoes and egg. The tuber juice is… interesting. A dark reddish purple, slightly sweet with a bitter aftertaste. It’s not bad but is unexpected.
I finish the meal, return the room key to Tala, and get directions to a bakery with good way bread. I easily find the place on a back street near the square and see a much-expected queue wrapping around it.
I sigh, look to the sun and see I still have several hours before it’s time to get my clothes, and so queue up.
“Oh yes, you need to be careful, snakes can be anywhere.” I hear in conversation about ten minutes later from several spots behind me. “Why I once saw a whole brood of venomous snakes in the shadows of a statue of the god of healing, just the other day.”
I strain my senses, still enhanced from last night’s boons, in search of watchers. On that roof top? That window? That alley? Nothing.
Keeping a stoic face, I wait five minutes, then look to the sun as if realizing I had an appointment, leave the queue, and walk slowly away.
A minute later I hear the young man who told the story make an excuse and follow me out of queue, catching up to about twenty steps behind, then matching my pace.
I wait until we get a few blocks away before ducking into an empty alley, changing my cloak and casting concealment before finding a place to hide.
The man turns into the alley, curses when he doesn’t see me, and runs farther in.
I tackle him as he passes, shove him into a spot not visible from the entrance, and place my dagger across his throat.
“Strikes without warning. You call that a subtle challenge?” I whisper, perhaps less intimidating than I hoped given that my head only reaches his shoulders.
“You call beating children in the main square subtle?”
“I only hit one, and they were trying to rob me. Besides, that hardly seems noteworthy here.”
“Maybe, but you earned their resentment. One followed you back to the inn and saw a group of five adults they recognized follow you into an alley. When those five adults didn’t come back to the shelter last night and the whole town is talking about five mysterious bodies found burned in a cesspit… Well, they put five and five together. You’re lucky they told us instead of the watch. Lindrid figured you’re one of us and wants to talk.”
“I should kill you.”
“What, why?”
“You just told me a public figure is part of the resistance with only the barest confirmation of who I am.”
“But the code…”
“The empire knows the code you idiot. We don’t say it to protect us from them, just to avoid accidently exposing ourselves to civilians. Never say it with so many people listening, you never know when a spy might be next to you. In fact, I could be one. This whole thing could be a ruse to lure you and Lindrid out. Never compromise the cell network, even to itself.”
“…look I get that paranoia keeps you field types alive, but we’re social operatives. Our job is to gain influence in communities until we can move them to strike. We haven’t done anything illegal yet, so paranoia just draws attention to us. The empire isn’t going to kill five people just to lure out resistance that might be hiding in the refugees.”
“No, they would kill more. They’d abduct random people from the street, rip information from their minds until they become listless dolls, and then cobble their psyche back together into the shape of sleeper agents or informants in their network. Of course, you wouldn’t know about any of that, being SoOps and all.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. We’re doing our part.”
“…Sorry, you’re right.” I say, realizing that I’m technically a social operative now. I mean, it’s not like the resistance have official divisions for me to be transferred. I just never thought of it until now.
Though it’s not that I discounted what they did before, I just don’t like talking with them.
“…Right,” he says, obviously surprised that I apologized, “I guess at least you didn’t pronounce it ‘soaps’… Listen, you need to talk to Lindrid. There’s a meeting tonight with the cell. You need to be there.”
Footsteps at the alley entrance draws my attention. I sheath my dagger and drag him along.
“Accept my spell.” I say as we move.
“What? Right okay.”
I cast concealment on both of us and find another hiding spot in a blind alley farther in.
“I can’t go.” I whisper, huddling close to be heard. “I have someplace I need to be, and you already cost me half an hour. Besides, going to a meeting would endanger both of us.”
“He’s very insistent you meet. You caused us a lot of trouble. The refugees are afraid and angry because of you, and they’re looking to Lindrid to find the killers. If he can’t turn this in our favour, then your stunt might jeopardize our whole operation here.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“… I thought you understood the value of Social Ops.”
“It doesn’t matter because the resistance is dead.”
“…What!?” He says too loudly. I give him a ‘hush’ which provokes an angry ‘then explain’ look.
I sigh. “Three days ago, the empire launched a serries of attacks on multiple cells. From the nature of the reports, we estimate that half our field cells have been eliminated in one day, including most major assets. I’ve been out of communication since, but I’d imagine they didn’t stop there.
“They’ll likely make an announcement about it in a day or two. I’m… sorry to have caused trouble. However, your social operation is now pointless. The towns strategy depended on a mobile field force, which we no longer have.”
He stares at me in shocked horror, so I turn to walk away. “Wait!” He grabs my shoulder.
I yank on his arm, pulling him in front of me and slamming him to the wall, my body pinning his with sheer strength.
“Never grab me.” I warn, not letting go.
“Lindrid will tell the watch about you if you don’t meet him.”
“He would betray the cell network? You know this, he told you?”
“I know him. He’s ambitious– using the resistance to rise in rank. If his plans for becoming a lord are no longer happening, then he’ll do anything to maintain the position he gained here. In fact, he’d probably turn you in just out of spite.”
I let go of his arm and step back. He rubs where I held and glares.
Meeting tonight is obviously no good. It would delay me by more than half a day as the gates close after dark. Moreover, my boons will end in about two hours and it would be stupid to meet a man who’s willing to betray me without them. I could just say I’ll meet him and then skip town, but if he informs the enemy then they’ll send riders after me.
“Fine,” I say, deciding as I speak, “I’ll meet him, but not tonight. Take me to him now.”
“…He’s in his public role, it’ll be more dangerous.”
“Not for me. I need to see him alone.”
“…What are you going to do?” He asks, looking at the dagger I held to his throat.
I shrug. “Come to an accord… or kill him. I guess it’s up to him. You going to warn him?”
“You think I need to? We all know how you field types are. Always direct. Never solve a problem with words when a blade will do, right?”
“Just lead the way.”