Expecting the worst. Expecting the fall to end in a sudden splat and to be a little more translucent. Landing, instead, on something soft. Cushiony. Squooshy. The ceiling above closing, leaving me sitting completely in the dark. Holding my breath, trying to listen, trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Feels like couch cushions. Maybe some kind of giant monster that lulls its victims to sleep and then dissolves them? Not the worst way to go.
Oh, dammit, the apartment key. Going to have to try and sneak in again near closing time so she can give me another one, and hopefully she doesn't charge too much.
Sitting in the dark for a few moments more while waiting for my eyes to adjust. Light abruptly filling the room and carnival music starting to play. Three people standing off to the side in a balcony, holding up placards. Numbers. 5 6 3. Wait, isn't that? My shift sideways causing the cushions – they actually are cushions, a giant pile of couch cushions and rugs – to give way and dump me down onto the floor below. The three people in the balcony above wandering out of sight. Completely disoriented now. Reaching for some reassurance. Reaching for my knife. Trying to figure out what's what while clambering to my feet.
“Mac,” the voice still very familiar, even though it's been about nine months, “what took you so long?”
My master. My old master.
“I've been keeping tabs on you since all this.” The man waving his hand in my direction. “Business. Here and there. You were asking about us a couple days after, and according to what I heard you even knew where we were. But then you disappeared for a bit, but now apparently you're back. What have you been doing? Did all this, ah,” gesturing again, “fuck with your head?”
“Yeah, it did, but I'm still me.” Looking at each other for a long moment. “But what kind of fucking bullshit are you expecting me to buy? I didn't know shit. All I knew is that I had to find the Council.”
“The Council doesn't exist,” my master suddenly shouts.
“You see that? That's what I've been dealing with. You guys can't say anything else. What kind of ass backwards spell did you use to make that happen? I couldn't get anything else.”
“Well,” the man chewing on his mustache, “you finally managed to find us tonight.”
“Yeah, because I'm the great detective. I've been a little fucking busy doing other shit.” Gesturing at my face. “Look at this.”
Looking at each other.
“I didn't know it would do that,” he says, quietly.
“You didn't know it would do what? Are you just finding out that if I say Council-”
“The Council doesn't exist,” my master suddenly shouts.
“What kind of clown shoes operation are you running down here?”
“No one else has said that but you. The topic doesn't come up. I mean, who would even know about a Council that doesn't exist? It doesn't exist.”
“If it doesn't exist, then what are you doing down here?”
“Well, of course we exist.”
Staring at each other for a very long moment.
“So how do I get into your little club so I can talk like a normal person. Preferably without that warped no speekie curse where I have to rant like a fucking lunatic about the nonexistence of some Council-
“The Council doesn't exist,” my master suddenly shouts.
Staring at each other for a bit more.
“That was Rudolf's doing,” he says. “We need to get him to fix it. Come with me.”
Following him from the entry down a hallway. Dark brick walls and some lights here and there to offer sparce illumination. A honeycomb of tunnels, with a few more of them walking around, this way and that.
“So what were all those numbers about?”
“Your score out of ten. I gave you the three. You took way too long.”
“I think your judgment was a little harsh.”
“I didn't know you were dealing with,” pointing to his mouth, “that whole thing. I'll give you a five.”
“I can live with that.”
Continuing along and entering a room with a giant table in the center and the other two older gentlemen standing near it. A map of Lumeer, with figurines placed in any number of places, is spread across the table.
“Master, I understand why you're here, doing this,” gesturing at the table, “they took all our shit and they haven't given anything back, but who exactly are these guys? I thought Shaker was trying to make good.”
“This is Rudolf,” he says, pointing to one of the men. Dark brown hair, maybe dyed, with a sculpted mustache and a beard oiled to a point. “And this is Jamil.” Pointing to the other. A full head of hair, bright silvery white and clean shaven. “And Rudolf, there appears to be a problem with your spell.” Gesturing at me.
“So I was wondering about this Council-”
“The Council doesn't exist.” In full, old man stereo.
“That is a problem,” Rudolf finally concedes, after everyone had turned to look at him. “How long has that been happening?”
“More than a month, ever since I found out about you guys.”
“Is that right? I think my score for you was too low. I'll give you an eight.”
“Still deserves a five,” says Jamil.
Is this what they call sundowning? It is pretty late.
“Can you fix it?”
“It should be possible. Let me get my book.” Rudolf goes to the other side of the table and opens up a weighty tome. “Let's see...” Flipping the pages. “When incorporated into the ritual The Curse of the Stilled Tongue should have simply rendered communication impossible, without that side effect. Hopefully an error in transcription, and not in formulation.”
That's who that is. They do use some spell to silence people, but this is on a different scale entirely. And the other one is. Glancing over. Thought Shaker was good with both of them.
Rudolf muttering to himself, grabbing a quill from the table and doing a quick scan, flipping back and forth, making an adjustment and then beginning a long chant, filling the room with it's horrible, ominous whisperings. And then it's done. The hairs on the back of my neck and arms standing on end.
“Goddammit, Rudy,” my master says. “Tell us before you just go and do something like that.”
Jamil momentarily clutching at his heart, but then, miraculously, okay. None the worse. And glaring at Rudolf.
“I had to.” Rudolf says, displaying neither concern nor contrition. “Do you know how many people could've been spouting off that phrase for months? But, fortunately, easy to manipulate the spell once it's in effect. So, now, please, Ms. Macarthy, if you would.”
The Council is scary as fuck.
“The Council is ssss-” Hissing the last syllable before managing to get a hold of myself.
“There, you see?” The man look quite satisfied. “Thank you so much, my dear.”
“No problem.” Somehow got that out. Relax. They're not angry at me. “Why are you all involved in this?”
“Mac,” my master putting his hand on my shoulder, “now that we solved that little problem, we can't exactly tell you anything until you agree to be bound to secrecy. Rudy's got another spell.”
No real choice. Could suicide and get out of here right now, but they're everywhere. My master alone could keep me at the temple forever. He'd have fun with it. Let me go off for a bit, think everything is fine, then whammo. Taking a calming breath. They're not angry at me.
“You said the spell was easy to manipulate once it's in effect. How far does that go?”
“Are you that nervous about it, my dear?” Rudolf starts to loom, and the shadows behind him start to gather.
“Yes. Extremely.”
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“Such distrust.” The man throwing up his hands. “How unfortunate that this is the fate of the noble Magi. Cursed. Reviled. Called Blood Mage.”
“There is a lot of blood,” Jamil says.
“This is what I'm talking about.” Rudolf pointing a finger at him. “My dear, please don't be alarmed. There isn't as much blood as this naysayer would have you imagine, and we can tailor the pact in such a way as to set your mind at ease.”
Going to need reams of paper for this contract. One last question. Fixing my master with a hard stare.
“That thing that was in my body killing people for the past couple cycles, was that thing with you guys?”
“No.”
Staring real hard.
“I don't believe you.”
“He wasn't. Showed up on our doorstep, but a real loose cannon. Can't work with someone like that.”
“So you just let it run around killing people?”
“We certainly weren't going to keep him down here.”
Continuing to stare real hard.
“Alright, let's get the terms worked out.”
***
“Then we are agreed,” Rudolf says.
“Yeah, I think it's pretty airtight. I guess I deserve it if you get me.”
“My dear,” the man giving a small, disappointed shake of his head, “I've been trying to assure you that I have no such designs.” Reaching into his robe and withdrawing a spike of bone and metal, a ritual dagger, and drawing it across the palm of his own hand. “I'm glad you're finally ready to join our Pact of Blood.”
Starting to chant, and the words crawling along my skin. A trickle of liquid being pulled from his hand, swirling, suspended in midair.
“My dear, please don't be shy.” Holding out the freshly bloodied weapon. “I'm going to need more than a bit from you.”
A familiar grin on his face. See something like it every so often in the mirror. Not my first evil pact, and probably not my last. That first one got me all the way out here, so let's see where this one goes. Pulling down my sleeve. It's down the street, not across the lane. Blade biting deep.
“My dear, please repeat after me: I will not betray the Council.”
“I will not betray the Council.”
The weight of the words slamming into me and grafting on. Every inch of my body hit all at once. Trying to stay up, but all my strength fleeing. Sinking down, but then a flash of warmth entering me as Jamil catches me and offers support.
“That takes a toll.” His touch had restored me in an instant. My arm unmarred. Pure, clean skin. Putting his hand on my forehead. “But you seem to be none the worse for the wear. It's only meant to prevent you from telling anyone not in the know. Please understand that the people here are here because they believe in the cause. That's why I'm still invested, in spite of your Director's fumbling attempts at restitution. Too little, by far.”
Glancing around at the three of them and knowing instantly that they're members of the Pact. Not a color or describable thing, just a feature that is known. Instant recognition. Makes sense, you have to know who's in, in order to know who not to talk to.
“Too little, indeed,” Rudolf agrees. “Unfortunately, our compatriots who have gone back to lick the hand dropping crumbs are doing not just themselves a disservice, but all of us. I was surprised Savras informed you of our group considering he declined to join in the first place. If it's not written on a page he usually has little interest.”
Savras? Probably my master. My new master. He wasn't the source of my knowledge, but no reason to let them know that. So who was that woman? The Sorcerer maybe, she sorta had that vibe, or possibly the Augur, given that tarot card reading. Yeah, Augur seems more likely.
“What's your plan?”
“We're still in the reconnaissance stage,” my master says. “That operation on the last day of the festival didn't have the impact we imagined.”
“They canceled the finals.”
“Yes, but it did not spark a rebellion,” Jamil says.
A rebellion. Against us. The Council is scary as fuck.
“What're you after?”
“Our great Empire,” Jamil says, “has endured for nearly eight centuries due to shared principles - principles which the leaders of your people also profess to hold. However, as is so often the case, such principles tend to be forgotten, or deemed inexpedient, due to selfish ambition. The Earl's diplomatic success - I suppose I should now call him the Marquis - make a mockery of those bedrock principles. And, unfortunately, the Empire approved of the entire affair simply due to greed. I disagree with the means employed, as well as the potentially catastrophic costs of what they wish to achieve. My personal objectives are, as always, to reduce the likelihood of bloodshed and, failing that, to minimize suffering.”
An idealistic reason - overly idealistic - and given the other two men present, easily exploited. Still, it does present an important question. It's obvious what Shaker and his cronies got, and the Earl became the Marquis, but what exactly did the Empire get out of the bargain?
“I'm aiming to meet with Shaker tomorrow. If you fill me in a little more, and if you'd like, I could try some diplomacy with him.”
“My dear,” says Rudolf, “I really don't believe-”
“Yes, you should,” Jamil emphatically states.
“Jamil, bloodshed is, of course, the last thing anyone wants, but I'd venture to guess that Ms. Macarthy will have some difficulty convincing her Director to change course, and then he, the Marquis.”
“Better that she tries.”
“Rudy, I agree with Jamil's point, but you're probably right. The odds are remote - less than remote. They've ignored our input and entreaties thus far, and I don't see that changing, but as of this moment we're still not ready. When we do hit, it would be better to show that we tried to negotiate, in every possible way beforehand.”
Undoubtedly pushing my luck with this next question.
“So where are we hitting first?”
“Mac, that's why I like you, straight to the point.”
“Ms. Macarthy, my dear, Jamil laid out his philosophical rationale, but the more objective reason for this Pact is to force some concessions from the Marquis, as well as to reclaim some of that which has been taken.”
“The guild, right?” Fixing my master with a pointed stare.
“You got it, Mac, that is definitely on the agenda.”
“That is one goal, of many,” Rudolf clarifies, “but our most immediate target, I'll confess, is of personal interest. House Solstice presently occupies my former residence, but given the nature of the enchantments surrounding the place, it should be an ideal way to demonstrate our might, while also remaining largely unnoticed.”
Solstice? Oh, of course, reclaiming everything they took is quite a list. Not going to get everything back, certainly - some things that have been maimed or stolen can never be fixed or returned - but that's why revenge exists. My situation, irrecoverable, but, to be perfectly honest, six of one, a half dozen of the other. Add in Evie, Kate and Magpie, and then the magic, that exquisite little cherry, possibly even came out ahead, even when factoring in all the lost time. There's nothing that can be done about it, anyway. Yesterday was yesterday, and today is today. Wait, he said their might. How many of my fellow things in crime are in on this conspiracy? No, that's too confusing a term. Things in league? No, that's not going to do. Things in arms? Probably overthinking-
A throat being cleared. “Mac, you with us? Pay attention. We don't have time for one of your daydreams.”
“Sorry.”
“So, like I was saying,” my master says, “we've only recently managed to get reliable eyes inside most everywhere, so we're still conducting reconnaissance in preparation for the next operation. So, Mac, for the moment, sit tight and don't worry about it. We'll let you know.”
“Solstice is inside city limits.” It should be. Right? “How much help am I going to be?”
“Rudy might be able to provide something that will help everything look the other way. Only for a short while.”
A license to do whatever. Even if only for a limited time. Yes, please.
“Gentlemen, I greatly appreciate the invitation. It's an honor to be involved with you in this conspiracy. Thank you.” Shaking my master's hand. “Thank you.” Shaking Rudolf's hand. “And thank you for patching me back up. Very appreciated.” Shaking Jamil's hand. “But right now it's very late. How do I get out of here?”
“Mac,” my master says, while walking me out, “it's good to see that you seem to be doing well, given all of this. Take care of yourself, and stay sharp.”
“Yes sir.” Giving him a picture perfect salute.
Standing at the bottom of the exit, a rope ladder in the entrance. The lights suddenly going out, the ceiling opening, and one of my fellow conspirators falling onto the big pile of rugs and couch cushions below. Ceiling closing. Lights back on. No music. Glancing at my master.
“That's just how it works,” he says, somewhat sheepishly.
“Hey, what can you do? It was good to see you, too.” Shaking his hand and then climbing up the ladder. A small tunnel at the top, pushing against something, and then finding myself in that newly discovered hidden hallway. Blinking at the sudden brightness of the light. Giving a nod to my new acquaintances at the front desk on the way out.
Walking through the streets equipped with Curse-o-Vision. Not many people out this late, and none of the few people walking around seem to be involved. Heading west toward the guild district for a block, but then remembering what happened earlier. Heading south, away from the inns close to Stormhawk, then back west into the district. Going to a nicer looking inn with a spider on the logo and catching the tail of the midnight rush.
***
Getting to the West Gate a little late, ten after eight. Riley and Wolfe already waiting. Upon seeing each other, instant recognition. On Wolfe's face, and on mine.
“Lucy,” Riley says, “you're a little late today, and you've always been here early. You doing okay?”
Keeping my eyes on Wolfe. Keeping my face neutral. Turning to Riley.
“Evie, I really appreciate your concern. Actually, things seem to be going pretty well. I was busy mostly sorting things out yesterday, and then I ended up staying up too late last night, so I overslept, a bit. But, thank you.”
“If you say you've got it under control, but let me know if there's anything I can do. You want to go back to the Haunted Forest, up north, see if we can get that spot today?”
“Absolutely.”
Tossing out buffs and getting ready. The three of us joining hands with Riley in a small circle. The cold wind from the dead of winter purifying and leaving us refreshed. Walking out the gate, glancing over from time to time at Wolfe. Managing to to get us a little distance.
“So yesterday, what was that you were saying about having secrets?”
“Said we all got 'em.”
“Well, I'm very happy to be sharing this secret with you.”
“Likewise.” But then muttering under her breath. “I don't know if I have very many left.”
“How long?”
“Last cycle. It's a good cause.”
“You understand what it may entail.”
“It's a good cause,” she emphasizes.