After a short drop landing on the gigantic pile of soft, cushiony cushions. Sitting in the dark.
“What is this?” Harper poking at the couch cushions we'd landed on.
Her question prompting the lights to turn on, along with the carnival music. Seems louder this time. Both of us looking over at the balcony. Four figures. Three holding placards. My old master: 10. Beaming proudly. Perfect score. Rudolf: 5. A five. Huh. His attention on me, then going to Harper. Jamil: 2. A two. Hmm. And the last, my new master, now also a member of the Pact. He doesn't seem very happy with me.
“Hey, Mac,” my old master yelling, “we've been waiting for you all day. Come to the strategy room, we've got a lot to talk about.”
The carnival music stopping and the four of them filing out into the corridor behind their balcony. Rolling down the cushions to the ground. Harper following and then getting to her feet.
“Seriously, what is this? And who are they?”
“You didn't recognize any of them?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Yes.” Beckoning for her to follow, and the two of us heading in the direction of the room with the giant map of the city. “The one who gave the ten is, was, my master, the one who gave the five is yours.”
“My what?” she asks, in genuine confusion.
“Your- wait, you've never met him before? He's the Blood Mage master. You should-” Glaring at me. “Oh, sorry, he's the Magus master. If things were anywhere near normal he's the one who would have taught you how to use magic.”
“Oh. Him. I've heard about him, but I learned from James and Derrick. They said he only bothers training advanced level students. Well, those who help with his projects.”
That could definitely be the case. My old master had been involved with my training, but more in the way of jobs that needed to be completed. Documents stolen, shipments intercepted, merchants leaned on, targets intimated or blackmailed. The fundamentals had been learned from some of the others. The scar faced man taught fighting, beard lockpicking, the giant stealth, and the woman with the missing finger, pickpocketing. After the first couple years we'd set up mentors and teams to help train newbies once they'd gotten the very basics down.
Entering the room with the large table and map of the city, and inside the four masters. The figures that had been placed on map had been moved to the side and replaced by the remnants of dinner and partially filled glasses of dark liquid.
“Ms. Harper, my dear, it's always such a special occasion when I meet one of my students. If I may ask, what is your given name?”
Looking at Rudolf now, standing next to the others, it's not hair dye he's using, he's simply the youngest of the bunch. Jamil, with that shock of bone white hair and leathery skin, is clearly the oldest, by a good bit. My master, my new master and my old master both, are younger than Jamil, and roughly similar in age. Rudolf seems roughly a decade younger than the two of them.
“Julie.”
“Is that short for anything? Juliet, or Julietta, perhaps.
“Juliet.”
“Juliet, I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.” The man making a slight bow. “I am Rudolf Urasu, Magus extraordinaire.” Harper responding with something polite.
“Urasu?”
Rudolf's eyes boring into mine. “Ah, that's right,” he says, “you were a member of that recent expedition to my former home city - but I suppose that also means you're partially responsible for this, as well. Why was Juliet invited to join our cause without my permission?”
The question, laced with soft menace, making my mouth run dry. “That's-” licking my lips, “I thought recruiting was a prudent thing to do.”
“Did you? I don't recall telling you, or anyone else, to do anything of the sort.”
“Rudy,” my master stepping in, “Mac's always been the sort to take initiative, and I'd say in this instance it was the right call.” Thank you, master.
“Yes,” says Rudolf, “she certainly has taken the initiative. Would you care to explain your actions today?” He, my new master and Jamil clearly not pleased with me. Jamil, most especially, with a deep scowl.
“It was a target of opportunity, and given the chatter it caused it turned out very well, if I do say so myself.”
“Opportunity?” says Jamil. “How does that sort of wanton destruction contribute to anything good? If you had chosen a specific target, with a specific purpose, I could at least understand. But everything? It could have been a rallying symbol, but your actions make us appear to be no more than simple terrorists.”
“Not us!” Throwing my hands up defensively. “They aren't blaming us. I managed to pin the blame on Stormhawk. They - and the leadership of all the other Houses, probably - know the truth, but as far as everyone else is concerned Stormhawk is the responsible party.”
“I see,” Jamil says, not pleased by the explanation, but his tone shifting to slightly more neutral. “You had said it was a target of opportunity. How?”
“They had a ship lined up to send me halfway across the world, but I had difficulty finding out exactly which one took the job. It was one of the ones at the docks so I decided to send a message. Now no one's going to be stupid enough to take that contract.”
“You did all that because of a single vessel?” The man even more incensed than before. “All of that death and destruction to send a message? Heinous.”
“Now, now.” Ruldolf putting a forestalling hand on Jamil's arm. “As heinous as those actions may or may not be, it seems the situation is not as dire as Savras has led us to believe. Not that I'm not grateful for both your presence and concern, Savras.”
My new master regarding Ruldolf with his customary calm expression. Maybe a touch of annoyance. “I came to join your effort because I was reminded today that indifference is a sin, and perhaps one of the most grave. I spoke with Namara, Honalee and Elida today. And Oxford, as well. They've all agreed to commit to a unified front.”
“Ox?” My old master butting in. “Where's that old drunk been holed up?”
“Stormhawk. Him and Krav have been wasting time by having contests with each other and their students.”
“Krav wasn't interested in joining?”
“He wasn't in any condition to say one way or another.”
“So Krav is probably in, then.” My old master nodding thoughtfully. “Things are definitely shaping up.”
“Indeed they are.” Rudolf stealing the floor once more. “Viktor, due to the opportunity that Ms. Macarthy has so opportunely afforded us, and with Savras now in our corner, I believe we should move up the timetable and attack Solstice as soon as possible in order to fully capitalize on the situation.”
“That's simply unacceptable,” says my new master. “It's not going to be that simple,” says my old master.
“What's not simple about it? We need to press the advantage.”
Both of them turning to look at me. My new master angry, but maybe more disgusted than anything. My old master also angry, but very quickly getting it under control.
“Mac,” he says, “the preparations are nowhere near complete.”
“How are they not? Time spent preparing is time well spent, but time spent overpreparing is time wasted.”
“You're not considering the big picture, or the eventual end goal.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“I'm thinking about my end goal. You all have all of yours, which I'm fully onboard with, but beyond that my concern is Shaker. He needs to be held to account for what he's done. He shouldn't be let off with nothing more than a mea culpa and a promise not to do it again”
“Your director?” My old master suffering a moment of bafflement before looking at the others. “I suppose he's also a consideration, but at present I think we should take advantage of Savras's legwork, and his efforts at persuasion, and I agree with him that we should present our demands directly to the Marquis. Posthaste.”
“I think that would be premature,” says Rudolf. “even adding those that Savras mentioned, we're hardly a completely unified force. I actually think Ms. Macarthy has the right of it. The intelligence I've gathered on Solstice is fairly comprehensive, and with it we should be able to make a lightning strike. My concern is that, given the present circumstances, the Marquis may not feel enough pressure to offer favorable enough terms. A strike at Solstice will demonstrate we're more than simple terrorists - and it should allow some more time to rally others to our cause. ”
“Rudy, further action is always an option, but there'll be no harm in formally presenting our demands up front. If the Marquis waffles, if he tries to make a play for more time without offering anything, then I fully agree with you. We hit them hard and fast and then get back to the negotiating table.”
Jamil shaking his head. “I think we should hold off on doing both,” he says. “We should wait a few days, let things cool down and then feel things out. Maybe send an envoy, first. By showing up now, when there's essentially still smoke in the air, we may only end up antagonizing the situation.”
“Jamil, I understand your hesitation” says my new master, “but, unfortunately, I fear any delays will only lead to further escalation. My student has forced this situation on us, for better or worse. I believe we have little choice but to act, and to act soon.”
“I agree,” says my old master. “We need to do something,” says Rudolf.
“Very well,” says Jamil, after a moment, “I'll contribute to the unified front for negotiations, but we all need to be of one mind. Rudolf, I've managed to stay on good terms with my students - the majority of us have - you need to be able to swallow a bit of your pride and reach out to yours.”
“Reach out?” Rudolf balks. “That's all well and good for you to say, your situation has barely changed.” Both men staring at each other and, after a long, tense moment Rudolf breaking his gaze off. “I suppose I can overlook their insolence if my conditions are met. But something we need to keep in mind, both you and I have places we can go back to, Viktor has none.”
“That's a sticking point, then,” says Jamil. “I'd never accept an agreement that doesn't fix that fundamental injustice.”
“I appreciate that,” says my old master, “but if we do manage to come to an agreement, could all of you also try and forgive my former student for her actions, past and present? Think of them as being in service of the greater good.”
“After everything she's done?” Jamil giving me a hard look. “That may be nigh impossible. I'll consider it only as a favor to you.”
“She's welcome back,” says my new master, “so long as some recent actions committed in anger are completely and sincerely and totally rectified.”
Rudolf giving a dismissive gesture.
“That's all I'm asking. Mac, for your part, I'd advise against any further action. Keep your head down - and actually do it this time. If anything does end up happening you may find yourself out on a limb.”
“Yes, master. If there's nothing else any of you need, I'd like say good night. Julie.” My eyes meeting hers. Let's get the fuck out of here right now. The message received and her affirmative sent back.
“Good night.” Her goodbye a mumble. Both of us turning to leave.
“Oh Juliet, my dear, Ms. Macarthy.” Rudolf's voice stopping us short. “I'm not going to make a further issue of your indiscretion, considering you had such good intentions, but don't invite anyone else without explicit permission. Pass that message along, would...” Trailing off. His eyes traveling upwards in the direction of the entrance. “It seems we have four unannounced visitors. Are these more unauthorized recruits?”
Four. That group from Haven. One Ranger, one Druid and the two others. That would fit.
“You were followed,” says Jamil.
My instinctive denial dying before it even dreamed of escaping. He can feel my panic. Didn't think anything of it at the time, but that Druid probably put an insect or something on me to follow afterwards.
“Probably. They're from Haven.”
“Some of Namara's?” says my new master.
“If they're Namara's I'm sure if we explain things properly we can get them to join,” says my old master. “Perhaps even willingly.”
“You actually want to invite more of them?” says Rudolf.
“I do. I think it was an oversight on our part. Empaths seemed like a critical group to target, but more of everything is always more.”
“There are limitations to the Pact, you understand,” Rudolf says. My old master shrugging in acknowledgement. “Very well. Places, everyone!”
The four masters scurrying into action, heading in the direction of their balcony. Walking with Harper back in the direction of the entry room.
“Lucy...” says Harper.
“We'll talk outside.”
Getting back to the entry area with the giant pile of couch cushions and rugs that served as the landing spot. A click from above and half the lights turning off. A second click and the remainder going dark. A pause. Instead of a third click the ceiling opening and the group from Haven, a group of flightless birds letting loose a spate of honks and flaps while falling, and then landing, on the pile of cushions. The ceiling closing, the lights turning on and the carnival music starting to play. The turkeys gobbling even louder.
“Welcome.” A voice from the balcony, out of sight. My old master. “Well done on discovering this place. You have my congratulations, but this is merely the first step in a larger journey.”
Sharing a glance with Harper. “Let's go,” she says.
Walking out into the room and the Ranger noticing me. “Macarthy!” Pointing.
Waving at her group. My old master not pleased at being upstaged in the middle of his ad lib. The placards held by the others eights and nines. They're really laying it on thick. Giving him a sharp salute. “Master, I'll get it done. I'll have a report for you soon.” Harper also giving a salute. Not quite as sharp. Both of us heading to the ladder and starting to climb.
“Good,” he says, after a moment. “It's essential for your people's safety, as well as ours. Now, as for you four who've managed to find your way here, I have a special task in mind. Join us in the strategy room and we'll inform you as to what's really been going-.”
Pressing against the membrane and finding myself back in the hidden hallway. Blinking to adjust to the brightness. Harper arriving moments later. Stopping several steps outside the door to the bathhouse. Trying to come up with something to say, but nothing intelligible coming to mind.
“Are you alright?” says Harper.
“No.” Sulky. Bringing a hand up to my face real quick and then gesturing feebly. “I'd been hoping to maybe stay here but after that it's not an option. I want to give my apartment a wide berth for a bit. I'm sorry for asking, but I was wondering if I could crash at your house tonight?” And potentially bring more trouble on you. Those unspoken words echoing.
“You can for tonight,” says Harper.
“Thank you.”
Starting to head in the direction of her apartment.
“What's your schedule?” she says.
“Same as yours.”
“You mentioned earlier today that you were going to be heading over to Wyrmsblood in two days. That doesn't sound like keeping your head down. Is that still what you're going to be doing?”
“I have to.”
“Really? Maybe I didn't explain it clearly enough earlier, but those people from Haven-” The girl stopping. “They were all in on shipping you out, weren't they?”
“Yeah.”
“So then, why?”
“I don't have the option to sit and do nothing. If I don't move, I'll find myself surrounded. If I show up on Wyrmsblood's doorstep, and I show them I'm not afraid, they'll be more likely to back down.”
“I need some of your blood,” says Harper.
“Right now?”
“It seems like its you versus everybody. And after meeting with, I suppose that's the Council, it doesn't seem like you've got much support from them. You said a couple cycles ago that the downside would be that I'm siding with you. I didn't understand that at the time - I still don't, not really - but I want to make sure I'm making as close to an informed decision as possible.”
Swallowing down the immediate flash of anger. She's not wrong. My shadow army from the Pact turned out to be a one time use, and now nothing more than flickers on the wall. The enormously powerful Council interested in their goals, not mine.
Pulling out my knife and slicing my palm. As for the current situation, a handful of loyal friends ignorant of today's events and, here, a newer one. Nowhere near as loyal, and undoubtedly with designs of her own, but potentially ready to make the leap and only needing some reassurance to do so. Harper taking a good bit and beginning her chant. Putting the blot on myself and Mending the cut closed. Harper bringing her finger to her lips and taking a taste. Another. Licking it clean. Staring off into space the entire time.
“Do you still think you can win?” she says.
“I don't know, but I'm certainly going to try.”
“You're demanding a lot for 'I don't know.' It's not only going to be you sent into exile if you fail.”
Exile? They'll probably send you all to reeducation, to try and undo what they think is my dastardly brainwashing. The only truly lost cause getting a one way trip is going to be me.
“Exile isn't the worst fate, there's all kinds of neat places to go outside of here, but you're right to want to know. I'm going to do everything in my power to win, and I'll make it as painful as possible for them if I don't. If they don't back down I'm going to make them regret starting this fight. If, in the end, I'm finally compelled to leave, I'm going to ensure that it costs them more than they gain for finally getting rid of me. And then I'll use that time to lick my wounds, recalibrate, and get everything all lined up. I'll come back in force and I'll win. You're right to want to know what you're getting yourself into. By siding with me you're never going to have a dull moment again.”