A chime ringing out and one of Shaker's help calling for attention.
“Dinner is ready. Please follow me to the garden.”
Falling in with the herd and heading out toward the back patio. The hedges had been freshly trimmed and the autumn perennials still retained their full bloom. Approximately twenty tables had been assembled around the garden, along with large, freestanding torches throwing off light and heat.
“Welcome, you're going to be at table fifteen.” The hostess, Paula, greeting attendees and directing them to their assigned seats from a list. Upon catching sight of me her practiced politeness suffering a sudden death. Putting a hand to her mouth and visibly holding back emotion. “Lucy,” the woman getting out, “you should have told me you were coming.”
“I hope it's not a problem. I have an invitation.”
“No, of course it isn't, I just don't know where I'm going to put you.” The woman looking around aimlessly for a few moments, but then snapping her head back. “An invitation? Harold didn't tell me that he'd invited you.”
“Mrs. Shaker, I invited her,” Riley saying. Paula, still in somewhat of a daze, turning to regard her. “I hope it's not a problem. She's my friend.”
“She's your...” A wistful smile breaking out. Riley first puzzled at the reaction, looking back and forth, but then realization dawning. “Of course she is. Please, call me Paula. What's your name, dear?”
“Evie.”
“Let's see, Evie... Evie.... oh, Evelyn Riley. Hmm.” Paula shaking her head. “I don't think that seating arrangement is going to work anymore. Give me a couple minutes and I'll shift someone around.” Paula directing us off to the side in order to let the people behind us get to their spots.
The two of us moving aside, but then a deliberately loud comment from behind us. “Keep your monster under control, Evie.” Turning to see who said it, but only finding smirks and averted gazes. Riley not taking it very well, nor the comments being directed my way – our way - from a couple of the people she'd been talking with earlier.
“Don't worry about it, Evie.”
“You really think I shouldn't? I knew it before, but only in the abstract, everything is just rotten.”
“I don't feel insulted by them. They're irrelevant. If you want to grab dinner somewhere else we can. I came here to see you, not to enjoy Shaker's company or eat his food. I'm more concerned that you're worrying about a bunch of nobodies. Don't waste your time with their schoolyard insults. If you want I could straighten them out.”
“I-” Riley hiding her mouth with her hand. “I don't think that would be a good decision.”
“No? Why are you smiling, then?”
Dropping her hand to reveal her pearly whites. “These nobodies have all been identified as, and I quote, the most promising prospects of my class.”
“Is that what this is? The most moldable midwits all gathered to do some glad handing. I see why Jack didn't want to come.”
Riley's eyes going owlish, but then a moment later letting her anger out in a huff. “That's one way of putting it. I'm glad you came. After Kate I was worried that you'd- but I guess you're not Kate.”
“What's going on with Kate?”
“She's being extremely unreasonable. She stuck by me when we first got here, when everyone else dropped me, but now she's sulking.”
“Sometimes people need space to clear their heads, Evie.”
“It's not good for her. Kate's the kind of person who sits and stews and makes whatever she's thinking about much bigger than it was ever intended to be. Instead of doing that she should've opened her mouth and said something when it was still small and manageable.”
“I hear you, but sometimes people need to sit and stew.”
“Dodging me because she's upset when I need her is really, really-” Riley fluttering her hand while searching for the word. “Inconsiderate.”
“Dodging you?”
“She's been ignoring my emails.”
“She has? Evie, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but she may never have received your emails. You could be on the naughty list – because of me.” Riley's eyes going wide, then getting progressively wider as each implication of that statement started appearing in her mind, starting with the very existence of a naughty list in the first place.
“I was actually having a relatively decent night before you said that.”
“I'm sorry I haven't been here for you these past couple cycles, but I haven't been twiddling my thumbs, either. I've been busy. I have a plan - plan doesn't cut it, it's much bigger than a simple plan - and you're an integral part of it. Getting Kate back onboard is also part of it, too. Doing that may be difficult, but I know that I'll be able to get through to her.”
“I hope so.” Riley still visibly working through the implications. “I guess being on the naughty list means I shouldn't expect any presents this year.”
“Evie, you don't have to worry about that. No matter how many lists you end up being put on, while I'm still around you'll always get nice presents. Today, for instance, I didn't want to come visit you empty handed - especially after you went out of your way to invite me.” Unbuckling the clasp on the very simple steel chain bracelet on my wrist. The color of the metal had become streaked in parts, becoming a jumble of very shiny metal next to a more tarnished, oily hue. “Now, it may not look like much, and it's definitely a prototype so there's undoubtedly plenty of room for improvement, but this has been permanently enchanted with spell resistance. I specifically made it for you.”
“Lucy, this is so extremely...” Riley struggling to come up with the word to describe how she felt about the not very attractive, plain looking bracelet, but then the cloud passing. “Thoughtful. Very thoughtful. And-” her face contorting, “-you're giving this to me because I'm in the crosshairs.”
“That definitely influenced my choice of gift.”
“I – thank you – I guess I still need to fully get used to this.”
“To me?”
“Not you.” Riley letting out a huff. “You, yourself, are simple, in spite of everything. It's dealing with everyone else. They've all mostly been ignoring me since I got here - which I didn't like, at first, but then I sort of got used to it – but now they're all paying attention again and everything's gotten more complicated.”
“Things are only ever as complicated as you let them be.”
“Maybe that's true, for you.” Smirking at me. “It's not that I dislike complicated, I'm just currently out of practice.”
“Well, lotsa luck with that tonight.”
“I expect you to be on your best behavior, especially after earlier.”
“You got it, boss.” Touching my fingers to my temple and Riley giving rueful shake of her head. Behind her, Paula glancing over in our direction and gesturing for us to come over.
“I have it figured out,” she says. “You are now over at table twelve, that's over in this-”
The sound of activity behind me causing Paula to cut herself short. An entire entourage coming out of the main part of the house to fill the patio. At the head of the procession, the actual owner of the house, with his wife occupying his right arm and his children, five of them, coming in a train. The eldest, a son near the age of majority, the second, a daughter, then two boys of similar height, my height – probably fraternal twins, one ruddy in complexion, the other pale – ages thirteen or fourteen and, finally, the youngest, a girl of maybe seven or eight. The gentleman speaking into the Marquis' left ear – neatly coiffed salt n' pepper hair, oiled and waxed mustache, a dashing ensemble, and never without his sword – immediately noting my presence.
“Marquis Vanaan.” Paula politely curtsying. “I'm so glad you're able to attend.”
“Glad to be here, Madam Shaker.”
“Oh, Paula,” the Marquis' wife gushing, “of course we had to attend, your get togethers are always such a delight. Now if we, ah, there's the man of the house. Harold, so nice to see you.”
Shaker managing to tear his attention away from me in order to greet the Marquis and his wife. The woman following where he'd been looking. Doing a double take, from me to Paula. Riley's increasingly less and less polite smile freezing. Reaching a hand to her neck and touching her necklace, her goddess's symbol, the golden key.
“She says she wants to talk to you.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Now? Riley shrugging. Tentatively reaching out my hand to touch the symbol.
I'm calling in your debt. Her mournful voice reaching up from the bottom of a well. The Marquis' eldest son has delayed long enough. He must cross through the gate to be reborn.
What?
I can't imagine you have any ethical concerns with that demand.
Not ethical ones. Practical. Why are you telling me this now?
He's here, and so, luckily, are you. The time is ripe.
Right now? I'm not setting off an international incident in the middle of dinner - in front of the entire goddamn world, nonetheless! no way! especially not in front of Evie! Wait, did you tell Evie to invite me here in the first place? Does she know about this?
I simply offered counsel and Evelyn was wise enough to listen. You have your role, and she, hers. You've performed tasks like this before, under similar circumstances.
Believe it, or not, I'm actually trying to cut down on doing things like that. The goddess not responding, but her icy displeasure becoming increasingly evident. Okay, let's say I try it do it right now, my master hasn't taken his eyes off me since he saw me. If I did try anything, he'd stop me. He'd slice me to ribbons. I'm not saying I'm opposed to it - I'm not saying I won't do it - but I definitely can't do it right now.
My heart thudding in my ears for a series of beats.
If not now, then soon. It will be done soon.
Our contact breaking, but my heart not slowing it's frantic thudding.
“What's your thing planning, Evie?”
“She's been getting somewhat restless. What did she...” Riley closing her mouth at the insistent shake of my head.
“-your table is this way,” says Paula. “And, don't worry, I've prepared a special plate to account for your son's dietary restriction.”
Madam Shaker leading the Marquis' party in the direction of their table, but two men staying behind. After a couple paces each discovering that the other had also been planning to interrogate me. Becoming stuck. Two statues - two strange cats stopped midstride - staring at each other.
“Director,” Riley graciously deciding to break the stalemate and Shaker managing to tear his attention away. Her to me, her to me. Settling on her. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“You are quite welcome. Evelyn. Evie. Quite welcome. If you'll pardon me there's something I have to...”
The man abruptly walking off in the direction his wife had gone. Riley blinking several times in surprise at the brushoff.
“Miss,” my old master saying, “could I have a moment of your friend's time?” Meeting her eyes and then Riley giving us a little space. “Mac, you, I assume, spoke to Rudy and managed to deal with your issue, but you never came to me to report.”
“There was nothing to report.”
“I think I'd be the one to judge that.”
“Oh. The quick version is he's back in his old quarters but still settling in.” More like already firmly settled in. “Right now he seems to be focusing on patching up relations with his students.” He barely even thinks about his students. “Apparently the reason they all marched across the city is because they were getting even with Wyrmsblood.” True. “Aside from discussing that, he wasn't particularly chatty.” False. “He was a bit hesitant to help with the beacon, at first, but he did decide to do so - not out of gratitude, although that may have been part of it, but more that my situation amused him.” Completely true.
The man slowly nodding. “Patching up relations with his students... I see... that may end up being worthwhile information. Mac, I realize your movements are still somewhat restricted, but I want you to keep your eyes and ears open. If anything does come up, anything even slightly odd, you need to let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” Foregoing the salute. Never saluting you again. Not to maintain appearances. Not even in jest. The man walking away. “Sorry about that, Evie. Sorry to be such a lightning rod.”
“You're pretty good at it. Hey, um, I didn't want to mention it earlier, but I can definitely see the resemblance between you and Mrs. Shaker. It's definitely there, like, it's really there. It's uncanny.”
“I know. The way she looks at me breaks my heart, and then I get so angry about it.”
“I'm sorry I made you come.”
“Don't be. Fuck her, fuck all those people. I came here for your sake. That's all that matters to me.”
“Well, with her, I think you should try and, I don't want to say make good, but you should really try and consider how she's feeling.”
“Evie, some people don't deserve mercy.”
“I don't think that's true.”
“Ask your thing if it thinks any different.”
“She believes in mercy.” Riley's reply immediate and unequivocal. “That's precisely what she believes in. Mercy.”
“If that's the case maybe I'll consider it, at some point. I don't particularly feel like doing it today.”
“You're going to stay on best behavior?” Quirking an eyebrow at me.
“I'm just trying to enjoy the party. Isn't this a great party?”
Arriving at our table, nearly on the opposite end from where the Marquis had been seated - convenient, that. Our table almost completely full of people from Riley's class, with two notable exceptions, Melissa Avery, from House Mink's leadership, and a gentlemen also in the leadership of her House, his name being F-something, sitting next to her.
“Oh my God, Evie, I can't believe you.” A shrill inflection coming from the mouth of a rather pretty girl sitting at the table. “I mean, I can, but you are so unbelievable. You must've heard - you had to have heard - and then you decided you had to make a scene and drop this turd in the punchbowl. I can't believe you. I mean, I can, but I can't actually believe you'd do it.”
The outburst causing the other members of our table to halt their current conversations and to look in our direction. Avery giving me a very subtle shake of her head. Riley not saying anything, stunned into silence, but her face beginning to darken.
“Evie, if you want, I'll take this seat here.” Riley not responding. “Unless, of course, you want to sit there.” Slowly turning her head.
“Lucy, I think you may have been right.”
“Is it even a question at this point? Just look at everything that's been going on. Hey, you.” Giving the annoying girl's face a couple light, open handed smacks, not hard, but more than enough to get her attention. “Don't give Evie any lip.”
The gentle taps not producing the appropriate response. The girl, instead, smirking at me before focusing back on Riley. “This really is Macarthy, huh? You know how to find 'em, Evie.” Starting to laugh, almost falling out of her chair, clearly the victim of one too many cocktails during the previous hour. Avery, on the other side of the table, turning her palm upward. Cradled inside it, a small, dancing flame. Daring me to make a false move and get blowtorched as a result.
Keeping my hands visible and slowly taking the seat next to the still laughing girl in order to give Riley a buffer. Some semblance of order returning to the table as the soup course started being served. Seafood chowder. Taking a taste and requesting some pepper.
“Now, to get back on track,” says Avery, “the Director invited you all here tonight because you all show-”
“Mrs. Avery,” the girl next to me interrupting, “are you really going to bring this up in front of, you know.” Cocking her head in my direction.
“Why wouldn't I?” Avery momentarily at a loss. “You only got here some months ago, right? I don't understand why- are you not aware that Macarthy was the one who managed to get the Director to reinstate your training?” From their expressions and glances it appears they weren't.
“But Macarthy was also the one who burned all those ships in the harbor.”
“That was justified.” My words drawing nothing but scorn. Why are they so upset? It wasn't their ships. “And doing what I did managed to kill two birds with one stone. Things mostly managed to work out for the better because of it.”
“You're saying the ends justify the means?”
“Sometimes, yes, they do.”
“Is that why you made them cancel the tournament finals, too?” One of the guys asking.
“I dunno what you heard, but that wasn't me. I had nothing to do with that. Wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That's your story?”
“That's what happened. Why do you even care about some stupid inter-House sporting event, anyway? Did you have money riding on it, or something? I thought Sam returned all those bets.”
“So, you're not planning on doing it again?”
“I didn't do it the first time.” My explanation not getting through, given the set of his jaw. “You want me to swear I won't? Fine. When that whole tournament thing rolls around next year I won't do nothing. You can all enjoy the spectacle without any fear of chicanery - on my part, at least. Happy?”
My promise met with glares and grumbles.
“Yes, well,” Avery stepping in, “the tournament aside, what I really need to talk to you about is leadership. That's why the Director invited you, each and every one of you.” The woman deftly managing to skip me in her quick scan around the table. “You all are-”
“Mrs. Avery,” the snotty girl to my left opening her mouth, once again, “Macarthy basically just admitted intent to sabotage the tournament. Again. Are you really going to let that go?”
Avery's eyebrows getting pinched and her mouth going flat.
“I literally said the opposite.”
“You didn't. You said you wouldn't do it next year - you specifically said it like that - you didn't say anything about the finals this year. I figured a mass murdering psycho that everyone's afraid of would be above stooping to playing some word games, but I guess I was I wrong.”
“Jess.” Riley looking up from the soup she'd been stirring and her hand going to my shoulder. Squeezing very, very hard. “Stop it. Explain what you're talking about."
“How out of the loop are you? They rescheduled the finals, two cycles from today, on Halloween. And now we know Macarthy is going to disrupt them. Again.”
Starting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. These clueless fools, on one hand, and, on the other, Riley's hand digging into my shoulder as she restrained herself, much moreso than me, from eviscerating those clueless fools.
“I promise - I solemnly swear - I want absolutely nothing to do with your bread and circuses. You all enjoy them, have fun. Really what you should aim to do is participate the next time it comes around. As far as personal development, far more productive. And leadership? Well, I've got an announcement for you all - Avery, I assume you already know?” Chewing on her lip. Yep, she does. “Right now there are seven recognized Houses, in order of establishment: Wyrmsblood, Mink, Ishtar, Solstice, Haven, Stormhawk, and, last, Koln. So, I've been thinking, why not eight? Plenty of room for another.”
“Lucy, what are you doing?” Riley's urgently hissing in my ear.
“They already know, Evie, or, rather, the people who don't want it to happen already know, so there's no longer any point in hiding it. It's not merely enough to succeed, we have to succeed in spite of their opposition, and I'm going to need your help for it. Nothing worth doing is easy - you know that.”
Her vice grip pulsing and then relaxing.
“You should've...” the girl trailing off, staring into her soup. Taking a deep breath and then once again regarding her peers. “I suppose you've all heard it, then. You're welcome to join, I have no grudge against you - or stay out of my way. Those are your two options.”