While Laurel went to visit the Radas, Adam planned to hasten the spread of their reputation to the right people. Healing the local brats was all well and good, but they had bigger ambitions. A library of ancient texts and the ability to control access as he saw fit. And whatever Laurel wanted to do, he supposed. It was plenty of motivation to get creative.
As a lifelong denizen of the city he knew exactly where to find soldiers just out of officer training on their days off. He wandered over to a tavern near the road to Fort Sarken and bellied up to the bar. Wherever people drank, people talked. At some point tonight he would get the opportunity to plant a seed.
A couple of hours and a few beers later, Adam’s patience was rewarded. A group of soldiers were two pitchers in, ribbing their friend, who had broken his wrist on the obstacle course at the fort.
He called out, adding a slur to his voice for emphasis. “Oy, you lot are soldiers over from the fort? Any of you going out for officer-entry day next month?”
The injured man sank even lower in his seat. “Not anymore.” He waved his arm to emphasize the sling. “There’s no way I’m making it through with this.” He stared morosely into his empty pint glass and carefully poured another beer with his non-injured hand. “Next year.”
“You should go to that new healer down the Flats. They’ll magic up a fix, good as new.”
A round of heckles met this statement. “Sure thing” one of the more intoxicated soldiers responded as he elbowed his injured friend. “Why don’t you get’em to just magic you up some wings at the same time, fly over the obstacles.”
The soldiers broke into laughter, devolving into drunken hiccups and giggles. The injured man ignored his friends to focus on Adam. “Is it actually magic?”
“What do I know?” A childhood in the slums had taught Adam not to oversell a mark. “But it's free so who cares?”
After the conversation fizzled Adam relaxed back into the bar and enjoyed another beer. If all went well then the higher-ups at Fort Sarken were in for quite a surprise in the coming week.
******
On Secondday Annette arrived in the early afternoon to discuss employment terms. The tea was put on to brew and they all sat down in mismatched chairs.
“I was just researching your father’s case.” Laurel said. “It's more complicated than anything I’ve done before but I think I can make some improvements. He won’t be able to go back to the foundries though, or really any hard labor.”
“Oh, that's… that’s great news, thank you Laurel.” Annette’s formal mask broke for the moment as she graced them both with a genuine smile. The mask came back as she visibly recentered herself.
“I’ve put together an initial contract which I think accounts for everything. Of course, if we need addenda, that can be adjusted.” Annette was back to her perfect posture, in another respectable dress that had seen better days. She handed both Adam and Laurel individual copies.
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Laurel skimmed hers, everything seemed in order. The paper felt soft as satin in her hands, but she didn’t really care what it said as long as it was nothing egregious. Adam leaned over his copy, quill in hand. Each paragraph was furiously edited with corrections, some crossed out entirely.
“This salary is highway robbery! Why don’t you just shiv us in an alley and be done with it?” Adam said when he reached the compensation section.
“Is it?” Laurel glanced up from her own reading. “We still have a lot more silver we can exchange.”
“On the contrary.” Annette sat up even straighter, if that were possible. “This is a competitive salary for administrative positions. You should also consider the value added by my knowledge of noble house protocols and guild policies. Any growth you intend for your operation will run into one or both areas, and failing to meet the expectations of established players is how you will be excluded.”
“Did you spend so much time around nobles that the greed rubbed off on you? This is outrageous, experience or no.” Adam was not backing down.
Laurel looked back and forth as bickering devolved into more creative insults.
“How about this: less salary to start, with raises if your experience pays off, and then we can renegotiate once we’ve established the sect, assuming you choose to join on as an administrator.” Laurel was rather proud of that bit of negotiating. Maybe being sectmaster wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
“What do you mean ‘establish the sect’?”
After a few hours describing their plans, and then convincing Annette that they were actually possible, she became the newest member of the team. She immediately went to work tidying the shop and greeting any patients that wandered in, while keeping them all steadily supplied with tea to get through the day. Adam’s criticisms even slowed when she pointed out their application to the Scholar’s Guild was written on the wrong type of parchment. Laurel had avoided naming either of them as sect members, but even without that level of commitment, she was deeply appreciative of their willingness to join her cause.
The rest of the week followed the same pattern. Meristans wandered into the shop to be healed, most of them from the poorer districts of the city. Adam had ducked into the back rooms when a young soldier showed up to get his fractured wrist healed, and they had a few more middle-class citizens stop by, having heard of them from the Radas. Satisfying work. After so long adrift, Laurel appreciated a few weeks of routine.
********
Annette had picked up quite a bit over the last few days. Probably more than Laurel or Adam realized. They were both too straightforward for any real attempt at subterfuge. Lucky for them that she had stumbled into their path. Their entire plan had been more or less explained. They had seen a problem, and had come up with a way around it. And then when the next problem came up they would attack it the same way. It was ambitious, which she could appreciate. It was also woefully lacking in details, which scraped against her sensibilities. That would be where she could find her niche and add some value.
During the lunch hour she ducked out of the dinky little shop and hailed a cab uphill to the wealthier districts. Adam had the right idea to spread the word to the soldiers, but he was thinking too small. The army wasn’t the only group they would need contact with. Annette would do the same in higher circles. She spent the hour dropping in and out of shops catering to the elite. Or rather, the servants of the elite. The kinds of shops she’d spent ten years in and out of while working for merchants and nobles.
“Annette! Darling, it’s been an age since I’ve seen you in here. Does this mean you’re back with Lady Fairhaven, or someone else?” Michelle was the most inveterate gossip Annette knew, which was exactly why she made sure to include the millinery on her little tour.
“A new position. Working as a secretary for a group of magic users.”
“Witches?!”
Annette could feel the other woman’s excitement at the juicy tidbit. If she played her cards right, rumors would be flying before she even made it back to the Flats. “One witch so far. A rich one. I think she plans on making waves in the city once things are a little more settled.
“Look at you, clever. Always do land on your feet. Any chance your new patroness might be in need of something fashionable for these alleged waves.” The consummate saleswoman, Michelle started walking over to a gorgeous new piece in the window, accented with a silver-dyed feather. “This one in particular needs someone with the right kind of attitude to make it shine.”
“That is exquisite but I’m afraid I’m not buying today. Just making sure I still know all the best spots for when it’s time,” Annette said with a wink.
After a few more pleasantries she was able to escape the shop. From what she had seen, Laurel would wear one of Michelle’s hats if it was the last possible hope for the sect and not a minute before. But the shop was fashionable and the women who patronized it had the ears of the biggest influencers in the city. She would lay just enough breadcrumbs to smooth the way when Laurel inevitably did something to draw attention.
The next day she would make sure her contacts with the best papers and magazines were still good. She’d be needing them soon, and quite a bit had likely changed in the year she’d been out of touch with that crowd.