Eje's face is an implacable mask but her fingers jerk and drum on the sides of her chair. Her knees are steady but her feet twitch. Her breathing is slow and even but her eyes flit to every corner of the room. On her left, Ariel waits for someone to break the silence. On Ariel's left, Salaya is smiling, either on the verge of laughter or tears. Octave stands behind them, one step from the door.
The first to break the silence is Ariel. “What are you reading about?” And she may as well make it worthwhile.
Tal looks up from her papers as though seeing them for the first time. “The guest list. I'm looking for someone.” She smiles and brushes her hair back in an uncharacteristically girlish way. “You can wait a little longer, right? Good.” Octave stares at the ceiling. “Got it. This is perfect.” Tal folds the papers, ensuring the edges line up just right and the corners are smoothed down. She stows them in a pocket and uncrosses her legs. “Right then. You're here because I'm giving you a, erm, what do you call those things, Octave?” No answer. “Tasks?” She shakes her head. “No, too tedious. Quests?” She shakes her head. “No, too grand.”
“We have a mission.” suggests Salaya.
“That's it! Missions. Just the right amount of tedium and grandiosity.” She snaps her fingers. “You aren't gathering flowers in the woods, but you also aren't slaying a dragon or rescuing a princess. Yes, a mission implies a certain degree of importance. It's something a general might assign during a time of war. A mission to protect the future of the Upper Realms.” She stands up. “Tonight, I am your general. You report to me, and I give the orders. Octave, check the door, would you?” To Ariel's surprise, Octave doesn't complain but pulls open the door and checks.
“Nobody.”
“Excellent.” Tal begins to pace in front of them. Five limping steps in either direction as permitted by the room. Remembering what Salaya and Eje told her, Ariel checks Tal's arms, but finds nothing suspicious. Their sway is genuine. One reaches out to scratch her nose and the other smooths over the folds in her dress exactly as a real arm would. Either the wine at that party was too potent, or it's magic beyond her understanding. “I know at least two of you are capable of knocking around a few goons, but this mission requires a slightly more delicate approach. A soft touch. If we're successful, we keep the nation out of war.” Keeping the nation out of war. That's good, right? It just seems strange that the people they visited, the cities, the villages, even the mute butler; they all seemed so comfortable. So natural and assured that they would continue to live as they always did. That they could be on the verge of war is unthinkable. Then again, news doesn't travel to Lakeview often. “I assume preventing a war is a cause we can all agree on?” Nods all round. Ariel checks Salaya. If Tal is using magic on them, she can't see it, and if Salaya is deflecting, she gives no indication. “Good. If we fail, you'll have no way to connect any of this to me. Now listen closely. There will be a party at the Blue Cloud Manor tonight. The commoners are having their own celebrations not far away, but the local viscount, or whatever meaningless title he holds, will be entertaining a delegation of far more promising guests. One is the Duke of Muritaginus. He has an influential vote in the court. Are you aware of court dynamics?” Tal clears her throat. “No, I didn't think so.
“There are two issues of immediate importance. The first is orcs. I want them gone. Annihilated. Slaughtered. Round through the desolation and wipe them out. Put their heads on pikes, burn them, I care not. Yet my enthusiasm is not shared by all. There are those who feel the orc problem has been exaggerated. Then there are those, like your dear Ranim Harki, who want his mages to deal with it. I suspect it bolsters his image to get it done with minimal military support. And there are those who feel Gaskaback deserves our full attention, and orcs nothing but a nuisance. Regardless, they all want soldiers sent to the Gaskaback border, either in preparation for war, or to get them out of the way. Pure idiocy. That brings us back to our duke. He is undecided on the matter of increasing our military presence along the Gaskaback border, so of course he's going to be subject to a great deal of pressure over the course of this night. We're going to be keeping an eye on him.”
“What's wrong with increasing our presence on the border?” asks Eje. She flinches as Tal looks down on her, but remains resolute.
“If we increase our presence then Gaskaback will have to increase its presence. Which will cause our soldiers to lose their nerve and request reinforcements. Which has an identical effect on the other side of the border. One does not station soldiers without cause. They're skittish creatures, you see. They crave company and lose their nerve against numbers. By stationing them, we move from the speculative to the real; we cause that which we sought to prevent. These soldiers stand ready, so using them becomes more and more natural. The likelihood that some idiot grunt will draw his sword at the wrong time or get into a brawl with his reflection on the other side increases, and then we'll have no choice but to start fighting. The best way to safeguard the nation is to keep the armed buffoons away from each other.”
“I just can't believe so many people are opposed to fighting the orcs.” says Salaya. “I've barely heard of this war, much less why we're fighting.”
“People focus on the problems they see before them. In higher circles, orcs are less of a threat, but politics a daily topic. Speaking of which, the Gaskaback ambassador will be making his way to Salkrit soon enough. After our little adventure in Muritaginus, I expect the security to be overwhelming. Streets locked down. Guards on every corner like you've never seen before. Which is why this little affair off in the corner of the nation is the perfect place. Everyone is so concerned with the upcoming visit they won't take all the necessary precautions. That's where we come in.” Tal stops her pacing and looks them up and down like a buyer evaluating horses. Ariel clamps her mouth shut; no way will Tal check her teeth. That's silly, isn't it? Tal doesn't care about their teeth. “Which one of you is good at infiltrating, at blending in with nobles?” All eyes turn to Eje. “Of course. That will be your job. Mingle, talk, get the conversation on the subject of war, but be subtle. You're job is to find out what people think of the prospect of war, what they think of the orcish threat, and what they expect the court to do, not to give your own opinion. Don't punch anyone in the face. Don't pull any limbs. You can handle that, right?”
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“Of course.” Eje rises and bows, one hand fluttering, the other on her hip. She is fuming, but Tal has already moved on.
“Who can reading people? Talk with them and understand their motives?”
“Ariel.”
Tal locks eyes and Ariel looks away. Eje was right. She does have a way of looking through you. She's either evaluating you, or there's something fascinating just behind your back. “You'll do. Meet me at the start of the party. I'll introduce you to the duke.” Tal looks around. “And you.” Salaya perks up. “What are you good at?”
“I'm a colour mage. Top of my class and a specialty in fire.”
“Fireworks. Wonderful. You'll circle the perimeter. If you see anything dangerous approaching the manor, shoot whatever you can into the air and alert everyone.”
“Oh. Ok.”
“The party starts soon. Go get ready. Octave, stay here a moment. I have something special for you.” Octave doesn't move as the others troop out. Her eyes fix on Tal, wider than Ariel has ever seen them.
“This reeks.” says Eje. “I thought she'd at least be polite after how we helped her. Salaya is stuck walking around in the dark, and I have to mingle. I'm going to talk to her at the party. See if we can switch roles.”
“No, it's ok. We're given the roles we excel at. You go ahead. I'll be fine in the dark.”
“You're really going to let her mock you and have you patrol the streets all night?”
Salaya shrugs. “I didn't come here for enjoyment, did I? Save me some food.”
Eje looks around then drops her voice. “I'd still enjoy punching her face.” The door opens and Octave steps out, paler than they've ever seen her. “Right, Octave? You'd help me punch Tal, wouldn't you?”
“Yeah, sure. Come on.” They hurry to keep up with her.
“Are you ok, Octave? You look sick.”
“Just a little stressed. I've been better.”
“You didn't kill her did you? Would have been nice if you did.” Eje laughs then catches herself when Octave freezes. “Come on, what did she ask you to do? Did she pull of her mask and eat your face?”
Octave resumes walking, her stride a marked difference from her usual dawdle. “Never mind that.”
“Come on.” Ariel tries something new and puts a hand on her shoulder. “We're a team, remember? We'd tell you anything.”
Octave looks down at Ariel's hand like she's never seen one before. “Tal wants me to assassinate someone.”
“At the party? Is she insane?”
“Possibly. Do you know what a lynchpin is?”
“Something that pins lynches?”
Octave regains her composure as she takes control of the conversation. “It's the pin that holds a wheel to its axle. If the pin is pulled out, the wheel collapses and the carriage follows. However, the lynchpin doesn't stand out. If you were to inspect a carriage without understanding how it was made, you might never notice something so small and integral. In society, a lynchpin is someone who holds people and organizations together but appears nondescript at a glance.”
“And Tal wants you to find this lynchpin.”
“She's already found it. She's been busy since your last adventure together. Tal is always busy.”
“Sounds like she's got it all planned out. Why does she need us? None of her thugs, no offence to Octave, would take it?”
“We're not connected.” says Ariel. “We're independent. Not a part of the mage guild, not from the capital. Octave probably has no ties to the court remaining. Tal decided that we're far enough removed from it all that we don't pose a risk to her precious mission.” Octave gives her an encouraging nod.
Night falls, not like a blanket over the mountains, but as a spirit taking vengeance on daylight. As the sun slips beneath the snow-capped horizon, the team leaves their rooms in the eastern wing and make their way to the main hall. The guards look them up and down, Eje in a dark dress with feathery shoulders and white cap that somehow diminishes her short frame further, Ariel in her only dress, a gift from her mother whom its silvery sheen complimented far better. At least her hat is broad and cheery, and the feathers perky. Even Octave is in a dress for fear of standing out; it's a quiet black affair, and her hat looks more like a shawl. “We're staying here.” says Eje. “Don't be so absurd as to stop us.”
A guard stops her. “What about that one?” He gestures to Octave, who wouldn't look out of place as a grandmother at a funeral.
“Let her in.” The guard turns to see Lady Tal standing behind him in all her crimson glory, hat askew just enough to look fashionable, not so much that she looks slovenly. Somehow Ariel is surprised to see her, like they left her behind in that small room so how could she have made it here? The guards nearly fall over their spears to step aside, and they're in. “First, get rid of that absurd covering.” Tal takes them to the nearest hat rack and swaps out Octave's shawl for a powder-blue tall hat. “You look like you're about to run to the butcher's through the rain.”
“I told her.” smirks Eje. If she's still nervous about being near Tal, she's hides it well. “She looks like she's trying to sneak through the temple backdoor.”
“Is your fourth patrolling?”
“Oh yes. Salaya's patrolling for all she's worth. Octave, you should have tried wearing her dress. It probably could have stretched out enough.” Octave puts on the new hat and looks past them about the room.
“Let's get to work.”