Xangô POV: Day 76

Current Wealth: 168 gold 47 silver 29 copper

It didn’t say anything about me, that I was more afraid of being late for my meeting than any other consequence of Corvan’s attack. It said something about the horrible, nasty no-good world I’d made with my evil friends. There were consequences to pissing off a noble, and they very much depended on what sort of noble it was you’d annoyed. A nice one might have you flogged, but something about the blonde woman I’d been summoned by had struck me as…Mean. Hard, like she was the sort to pull out fingernails as an appetiser.

My walk to the Council’s Building was, as a result, about as tense as any walk I’d ever had in my entire life. And made all the worse knowing my friends weren’t there with me. I’d have basked in the relief brought by Beam, fighting wrecking ball that he was. Or Solitaire- there was something oddly reassuring about having him there to all but guarantee that the first blow thrown would come from our side. I’d left them both behind, regardless. If this went bad, I wanted them to have a head start in running once they heard that a bunch of big, horrible soldiers were looking for them.

Besides, everything we’d discussed before still applied. I didn’t want them shitting up my negotiation.

I found guards awaiting me as I approached the entrance, and wasn’t even able to get a single word out before they spoke.

“Dark skin.” One noted, to his friend, rather than me, “Six feet. The foreigner.”

Both eyes rested on me at that.

“You’re here for Lady Velaharo?”

Discounting the small possibility that they were mistaking me for another African giant who’d been summoned by an entirely unrelated noblewoman, I nodded. Both men turned.

“Follow us.” The other grunted, and they led me inside without much further ado.

The place was very much as I remembered, though a little bit more claustrophobic for my fear of being placed in a penis guillotine. Fortunately the walk didn’t last long enough for me to actually wet myself, and I was soon ushered not-so-politely into an office.

It was different from the other one I’d seen, smaller, tighter, less indulgently decorated and more…Economic. I could see far more work left done and undone on the desk, and behind it the lady Velaharo eyed me. My guess, it seemed, had been right. She was the blonde who’d approached me the other day.

And she didn’t look up at me, not even a glance. She just kept on writing like the other noble had. Rude? No, surely she was too clever for that, she needed me to see her contempt. To keep up appearances. Which meant she wasn’t the sort to get genuinely offended when someone saved time by stepping on past them.

“You wanted to see me?” I noted, not quite going so far as to sit down opposite her, but letting my voice ring out with a confidence that wasn’t anywhere to be found inside me. This wasn’t entirely new ground for me, Nigerian elders, particularly those who simultaneously had age and authority in abundance tended to behave this way. As I had come to understand it, I was to respect them by treating them like a god and they were to respect me by not treating me like filth,

At last she glanced up, green eyes running over me with a scrutinous glare.

“Word has been spreading about your activities.” She replied, coolly. “I take it they are the reason for your tardiness?”

I didn’t wince, nor did I violently shit myself, that was about as much as I could say in defence of my reaction to her words. I was quick in playing damage control.

“My apologies, my Lady, I was delayed by-”

“-By an attack by one Corvan the Coal Hearted.” She interrupted, eyes twinkling at my surprise. “Yes, I looked into your previous whereabouts. Apparently you made quite a fight of it, when he came for you. Tell me, how did you manage to kill him?”

Was she bluffing, lying? Trying to test me, pretending not to know he was alive when she did? Or had the word just not gotten around, yet, that we’d spared the magus who attacked us. It all depended on how she knew it was Corvan specifically. An eye witness who gave his physical description, if she’d used that to piece his identity together, would’ve likely let her know he was still breathing, too.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It would be a risk to do anything but answer honestly, and so I told the truth.

“Dumb luck.” I replied. “And a badly hurt friend.”

She seemed amused, rather than disappointed.

“Luck does not kill a magus, not of that calibre.”

“How do you know of him?” I asked, abruptly. “Seems odd, to me, that you’d have heard the name of some village mystic.”

By the look on her face, my attempt to blindside her with a question and wring out an answer before she’d considered denying me one hadn’t worked. But she replied anyway. Odd, that, I tucked the fact away for future examination.

“I know many names, particularly those belonging to men I’m considering bringing into my employ.”

That was interesting, but she didn’t let me dwell on it.

“Now, how did you kill a magus?”

I hid my irritation, evidently this line of questioning would not be moved past. Which was inconvenient, because it moved very very closely to Beam and Solitaire’s magic. I wasn’t certain whether they’d be burned, for using unnatural forms of it like they were, but it was a risk I’d rather avoid.

“We had the numbers.” I explained. “And each one of us was armoured in plate armour. I know a bit of magery myself, as does my brother Solitaire, and our third brother Beam is a fighter like you wouldn’t believe. That, and we got lucky.”

She hummed at that, thoughtful, but not amused.

“I heard talk of great flames engulfed in water.” The woman noted. I hid my surprise and shrugged.

“I’m sure I’ll hear it soon, but honestly I can barely even control air myself.”

It was true, magery started with subtle influence over the simple things around you. Air being the most common. I’d used that much to push Corvan’s attacks aside, but I’d never really overpowered them. If I’d been defending someone less durable than Beam or Argar the heat of his magic coming even as close as it had might’ve been deadly regardless.

Being true didn’t make something believed, though. Fortunately for me the Lady Velaharo didn’t seem particularly distrusting today.

“I had heard reports that your brother, Beam, fought the magus with…Interesting equipment. Armour, and a sword, glowing like firelight, pale white and near-transparent, yet harder than steel and seemingly without any weight at all.”

I ran cold, recognising, instantly, the dangerous proximity of her questioning. It was a tempting instinct to swallow before replying, but that would be giving away one emotion too many on such treacherous ground as this.

“An interestingly specific rumour.” I replied, slowly. “I’ve heard people say things about us, but never quite that…Particular.”

But this woman was clever, really clever, and my misdirection didn’t throw her off-kilter by even an inch.

“Odd, I’ve heard people talk about your innovations quite a lot. Magic powder capable of erupting into great releases of heat, light and force, some curious staff that can cleave through plate and kill a man from double the range of any bow, and a warehouse filled with alchemist’s things. Even Rinchester, oddly enough, seems convinced your family saved them with…What was it? Ah, yes, some arcane weapon crafted from the town bell, that spat fire like a dragon’s breath and tore apart dozens of enemies at once. All coincidence I presume?”

She didn’t seem annoyed to have been lied to, which was by far the smaller source of relief for me. If she thought Beam’s magic weapons were just an invention on our end, it would keep him that much farther away from being lynched.

Better to lean into her misconception, but reluctantly. As if I’d been caught by a shot in the dark rather than watched it whip by a mile from my heart.

“My brother, Solitaire, understands the world in ways that the rest of us…Just don’t.” I replied, telling the truth, at least in isolation. It was the best way to be believed, the best way to keep your stories consistent. The more you lied, the more lies you had to remember not to contradict later, the more cracks you were laying in your own mask. I didn’t have Solitaire’s memory, I couldn’t hold a photograph of the whole world in my head at once to be studied at my leisure. We mere mortals had to simplify things to account for our own limitations.

Velaharo was listening eagerly. With luck that meant that I could distract her from my lies with the sheer unbelievability of my truths.

“We come from a foreign land.” I told her, “And our people know things about this world that yours do not.” True. “They are better educated, better nourished, and even our children are freely handed secrets that a lot of magi would kill to keep hidden.” True. “Those people are gone, now, and we’re the last of them.” False, but close enough to the truth. “Of us all, my brother has a unique knack for intuiting more with our knowledge, filling in the blanks. Not the most educated of us, but possibly the most brilliant.” True, if flattering.

I didn’t believe Solitaire was the most intelligent man alive, back on earth, but that was pure guesswork on my part. I’d certainly never seen anyone near his level of cleverness though I’d certainly read of a few historical figures who might have been. Velaharo was believing me, so far at least, and that was good. I continued.

“Solitaire has been using this talent to recreate some of the technologies and magics we had back in our country, and…Well, Eregar seems to be appreciating them so far.”

She eyed me, with her crushed-emerald stare, and nodded lightly at my words. Thinking for a few moments before replying.

“Interesting.” Said Velaharo. “Then I have an offer for you.”