AKI:

Discipulus was a vast metropolis of commerce and trade, its architecture, populace, and happenings denoting a hub of ephemeral wealth. The exotically dressed foreigners, seemingly infinite numbers and brands of merchandise, packed crowds jostling like a colony of ants, and the various colossal structures scattered throughout made for a barrage of new aromas and sights. The onslaught to my senses and the pulls on my curiosity gave me little time to dwell on my fears, even as my friends and I went about handling my most pressing concern.

“The stench somewhat ruins the view,” Dako said, pinching his nose. We’d come out of a street full of fishmongers. The pungent odor of their goods, fresh though they might’ve been, rankled. Before us was Discipulus’s harbor, ships of all sizes hugging long and wide piers, beggars and merchants and royals mingling, roars and screams underscored by faint laughter and sobs, spices and piss and the perfumes of the rich and the body odor of the unwashed drifting in the air, all of the hubbub contrasted by the quiet stillness of the dead sea in the background.

“I’ve seen it a thousand times, yet I am always awed by the scene,” Sil said.

“The Academy is more impressive.” Dako’s finger and thumb remained clamped on his nose, adding a nasal quality to his voice. “We live there, and still, it amazes me.”

“They're impressive in different ways,” I said.

Dako shrugged. “Impressive is impressive.”

“As with beauty, magnificence is in the eyes of the beholder. The Academy is a marvel of functional quality. Hard. Impassive. Exacting. Like you godlings.”

“Like us godlings, you mean.”

“Like most of our contemporaries, yes, but not wholly like us.” I swept a hand over the expanse of the docks. “This is different. It is a marvel of diversity. Every race, all the stripes of almost all the kingdoms are represented here. Just as The Academy is symbolic of most godlings, this here is symbolic of most of humanity.”

Sil smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, I’m not sure I share your poetic view of things. I merely appreciate the chaos of it all.”

I nodded. “As I said, magnificence is in the eyes of the beholder.”

Dako wrapped his arms around our shoulders. “Whatever the case, my friends, we aren’t here to sightsee. Let’s get on with our business.”

Half a turn later, we stood before Siren’s Call, a tavern huddled between two of the many storefronts lining the coast. The place was clearly meant for commoners. Not low-standing Roots, who might as well have been Muds, but the respectable sort—merchants and well-to-do craftsmen. The building itself was much the same. With white-washed walls and floors treated by a passable Golem, the unnatural stone aimed to mimic marble but was but an echo of the intentions that imagined its appearance.

We entered. A dozen round tables were evenly spaced about the room. Only a third or so of the four seats each table had were occupied, the groups of patrons simulating the decorous conduct of godlings. Their lackluster attempts at matching someone of a better stature marked them as merchants. That, the fat coin pouches hanging off their belts, and the hushed but heated negotiations whispering through the room. A polished bar took up much of the back where a bored-looking man leaned over the counter, a tangle of dark hair sagging over dark eyes.

“It’s not often we entertain students of The Academy in our humble tavern,” the barman said, his soft voice somehow curtailing the distance between us. “And never before have we hosted Seculors.”

Both barmaids paused to watch us, platters in hand. As did the merchants, their conversations about profit held in limbo—a wonderous sight, considering the piety they were known to show the subject. Ignoring them all, I crossed the room to stand opposite the barkeep, my eyes never leaving his. A glint of blue deep within the darkness of his gaze beckoned me even closer. I resisted, standing my ground.

“So, what shall you wet your lips with?” He turned around and gestured at the shelves of sealed clay jugs. “Ale, maybe? No, no. Too cheap. Spirits? Hm, no, I think not. Spirits are for those who feel too much or not at all. I assume Seculors in The Academy cannot afford to be either. Ah, yes! Mead.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “It is mead, is it not? Your favored beverage?” He turned back around before I answered and continued his perusal of the shelves. “Sweet or dry, I wonder. Dry, maybe? No, that doesn’t seem right. You’re students. The young rarely appreciate the complexity of dry. Sweet it is, then.”

“We have no coin,” I said, freezing him in place before he unsealed the clay pot he’d chosen for us.

“No coin? You’ve come to my tavern without coinage. Do you mean to barter for drinks? I may host many a merchant, but I am not one, good sir. If you have no coins with which to purchase my brews, I must ask you to leave my establishment.”

Dako stepped forward. “We did not come here for libation, Tripler. It is a man we seek.”

“What man? Here? If you do not see him, then he is not here. And I’m no Tripler, good sir, just a humble tavern owner who wishes to go about my living without trouble. I ask again, please leave.”

Dako growled and leaned forward, his height throwing the man under his shadow.

“Let us try diplomacy before we resort to violence, Dako.” Gently, I urged my friend to step back, then turned my attention back to the excitable fellow behind the bar. “Svelok, I presume.”

“Svelok?” Sil leaned closer and squinted at the man as if her perfect eyes needed the help. “The contractor’s guard?”

Svelok’s face jerked. A moment of anger? Fear?

Dako pointed a finger at the barkeep. “Then I was right. He is a Tripler. He had the smell of godlings about him.”

“She,” I corrected.

The barkeep shook her head. “I’m not sure what you three are rambling on about, but for all our sakes, I ask once more, please leave.”

“Loath as I am to aggravate this encounter, my objective is too grave to let the prospect of violence deter me from my task.” I reached out a hand over the counter. “My name is Aki au Farian. It is, for now, a pleasure to meet you, Lady Svelok.”

The barkeep looked about the room, finding we still held everyone’s attention. “Return to your business, people, or I’ll make you mine.” They did as they were told, and with a nod, he returned to watching me. “Fine. Let’s talk. But first, how about your two friends introduce themselves.”

“I am Dakomir.”

“And I, Silani.”

The barkeep cocked his head. “Just Silani?”

“Kin Lore.”

“And you? What is your full name?”

“Dakomir kin Bainan.”

A shiver ran through the man—woman? “On the path?”

Dako shrugged. “I’d say no. Others might say I am straddling the line.”

“And yours?” I asked.

The barkeep tore his gaze from Dako and shook off his sudden apprehension. “As you’ve deduced, I am Svelok. What gave me away?”

“Your Painting is good. I mightn’t have noticed if not for my recent efforts in advancing my Auger senses.”

The Painting slipped off her then, revealing her appearance. Hair grew and brightened into the color of wet sand. The glint in her eyes expanded, turning them a midnight blue. The line of her jaw softened, her lips grew fuller, and her brow flattened.

“Ah, so you are a prospective Auger,” she said. “I’ve got to say, that is not a choice I respect.”

“Nor is it a talent I chose.”

“I know the feeling.”

“So,” I began, “is Svelok your full name?”

“It has been some time since I lost the rest.”

“Faded,” Sil whispered.

Svelok snarled at her. “Do not pity me, child. Cutting me out from under their influence was and is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Losing my mother’s name in the process was less than ideal, but I reckon the bargain was in my favor.”

I nodded in agreement. “House Lorail is not a family one suffers willingly.”

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Svelok turned her glare my way. “And how would you know, au Farian? I’ve not heard the name. A Bark, I presume. Though I suppose you aren’t even that anymore, given you are a student.”

“A Heartwood,” I corrected. “My sponsor is the Reeve for the capital’s Bark.” Svelok’s smile was quick and small. “He calls Adeenas wife.”

“Adeenas Pinmoon, Lorail’s Adjudicator?” Her shock was unobscured by her cunning.

“The very same.”

Svelok sighed, undoubtedly because I’d just confirmed we were not people she could kill with impunity. “Who is it you are looking for?”

“Your employer.”

“Why?”

“Regarding a contract.”

“Whose?”

“The target? Well, that would be me. As for who commissioned the contract…”

“My employer is unavailable.”

“Is he not here?”

“He is.”

“Then he’s available.”

“Let me be more clear. He is unavailable”—she pointed at me—“to you.”

It was my turn to sigh. “Have I not mentioned, or at the very least implied, my determination to remain steadfast in regards to my objective?”

Svelok snorted. “I believe we both have. Now, if we are done with words, let action walk you away or send you to your death.”

“Before I decide, let me ask you a question. Have you considered what our deaths would cost you and this ‘Raven’ you serve?”

Svelok’s eyes went hard. “We do not disclose the identities of our clients.”

Sil moved first, quick as lightning, surprising us all. She flowed over the counter, a leg whipping towards Svelok. The Tripler defended herself without difficulty. She blocked three blows before Dako moved to join. Noticing his approach, Svelok turned the fourth block into a hold, snatching Sil’s ankle. She pulled, adding to Sil’s momentum, and swung her across the room. Sil crashed into a man trailing the crowd of escaping merchants. I heard his spine crack. Only when I saw Sil pushing herself off the man did I turn to help Dako.

Dako’s speed and strength kept the Tripler at bay—no one his size should be as fast as he was. I pushed down the shock of seeing an Auger outdo a Reaper in physical combat and rushed forward. We attacked as one. I ducked in from the side, going low, my fist aimed at the side of her knee. Dako struck high, a sweeping punch. She defended herself like there were two of her. The leg I sought rose and front-kicked Dako. I changed targets and went for the other. She backflipped, escaping my attack again and delivering a kick into Dako’s chin. He stumbled back.

I launched myself at her. My arm whipped forward. She Painted a sword in my way. I unbelieved it out of existence. Her eyes went wide—such a raw showing of power spoke of a more profound harmony than hers, a Tripler of House Lorail, Faded though she may have been. As with all Augur Arts, one of the hallmarks of a higher harmony or quality of sensus was the ability to defuse constructs of Meaning by dismantling the sensus used to build them. This was why many Triplers with a great talent in Meaning were not considered for leafdom—most suffered from a less-than-ideal harmony.

Svelok did not let her shock transform into hesitation, weaving back and out of my range. But in doing so, her back met the broken remnants of her shelves and gave me a chance at pinning her in place.

I pounced. My bone-wrapped knuckles met her blocking forearm. I heard and felt her bones protest. She was a better fighter than even Dako, but the tight confines of our arena did not let her use her superior technique to negate my superior speed and strength.

Another bone-covered fist followed. Mid-motion, a thought struck me, slowing my attack. My fist never made it to its target. Why am I attacking her? The thought expanded. I need her help. She is my link to whoever is trying to take my life. I should prostrate. Beg. Attacking her will get me nowhere. Attack her? Why had that ever been an idea? She is a goddess. Perfect. Untouchable.

Dako pulled me back and out of his way. I stumbled back and over the counter, landing on my back. The compulsion driving my thoughts died away. I lay frozen. Fear gripped my heart. The thoughts felt as natural as my own. I’d seen where they were heading. Each was more ridiculous than the last, yet they felt rational as they’d sprung into being. Correct. Like truths I was discovering rather than planted fabrications.

“Aki!” Sil shook me out of my stupor and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get this done before Admin gets here!”

I turned my gaze to Dako and Svelok’s fight. She was having a more challenging time of it. Dako had gotten serious, compressing his form and turning into a whip-lean, long-limbed impression of a man, his arms and legs trapping her in a cage of rapid attacks.

“I can’t get close,” Sil said. She was right. Dako was lost in battle, too engrossed to make room for cooperation. “Tunnel her.”

“I-I can’t.”

Sil turned to me, confused. “Why not?”

“She… she Tunneled me.”

“You mean she tried.”

“No, I mean she was in my head, dictating my thoughts.”

“But not anymore?”

“No.”

“So Tunnel her.”

I looked down, trying to hide the dismay I was unable to clear from my face. “But…”

“Snap out of it, will you!”

“I—”

An explosion of sound and stone saved me from my confession. A cloud of pulverized rock obscured Dako and Svelok. We peered over the bar. Their figures slowly came into view as the white cloud of debris settled, revealing a winded Dako standing over a defeated Svelok. He’d smashed her into the floor, cracks webbing outwards from where she lay.

“Bitch,” he gasped between labored breaths. “No one invades my mind.”

Sil hurried to Svelok’s unconscious form, picked her up, and slung her over her shoulder. “We’ve got to go.”

Deactivating his ready matrix, Dako shifted into his usual self, dense muscles expanding and losing solidity. “Right behind you.”

Sil led us through a side door we found behind the bar counter. A storage room filled with barrels and jugs met us on the other side. Another door at the rear led us into an office. An empty office.

“She lied,” I said.

“Of course she did,” Dako said. “She’s a Lorail.”

Sil stepped forward, peering around the room. “We can get the truth out of her in due time. For now, let’s get out of here.”

A small, high window took us to the street behind the tavern.

To accommodate the city's many visitors, Discipulus boasted many inns, particularly in the districts in and around the harbor. The first we came across took us but a short walk. We opted to walk further, passing several more before we felt we were far enough from the scene of our battle to waylay our fears of being caught.

‘Hearthstay’ was a poor excuse for an inn. Any place where even the walls creaked when you walked on its floors was a poor excuse for whatever it was trying to be. It suited our purposes, though. Without any coins with which to rent a room, we needed a place we could sneak into and whose owners we were sure to escape from if and when they came looking. We chose a room on the ground floor—the creaking birthed in us a mistrust of the structural integrity of the upper floor.

Sil lay Svelok on the lice-infested straw bed we found beneath the window. Our prisoner was still unconscious.

“Wake her,” Sil said to me.

“She Tunneled me, Sil.”

Dako growled. “The bitch was as crafty a Tunneller as I’ve ever come across. Well trained. Old, too—experienced. Two, maybe three hundred years, I’d guess.”

Sil sighed. “You too.”

Dako patted my shoulder. “He’s never been Tunnelled, Sil. Not successfully in any case. Give him a moment. I’m sure you remember your first time. Everyone does.”

“What!” Sil was incredulous. “Never? How?”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. “I didn’t even notice until Dako…”

“Aki,” Sil began. She shuffled closer to me. “The first time isn't easy, but—” The jab of her fist was more brutal on my thoughts than on my arm. “But you’re you, Aki. Get over it. Now wake that grandniece of yours up so we can find out what’s what.”

Dako and I stared at her, our mouths working towards words.

“Yes,” Sil said, “I know. You knew I suspected, and I’m not so oblivious as to ignore all the signs.” She clapped her hands. “Now get to it, Aki, we haven't got all day.”

Dako nudged my shoulder, his shock replaced by a mix of wry amusement and gentle encouragement. “She isn't wrong. Remember who you are.”

I nodded, the weight and source of the words eliciting a surge of confidence. “Yes.”

None of my physical prompting, no matter how hard or repetitive, woke her. I spike of Tunneler sensus at the gate to her soul did. She jerked awake and groaned in pain, both from her bodily injuries and the backlash of having her soul gate attacked.

“Do not interfere,” I said, my narrowed eyes not leaving Svelok. “She’s mine.”

Sil giggled. “Now that’s the Aki I know.”

After a moment of confusion, where the Tripler took the time to acclimate to her sudden return to the land of the conscious, Svelok met my gaze. She put up a meek front, an illusion. Painter Arts can heal almost as well as Duros, though their effects were temporary.

“I see you’ve all earned your status as students of The Academy,” she said.

“Flattery?” I asked.

She reached for my throat, her body supported by her belief. I blew away the threads she used to lie to the world with a wave of my hand.

“No,” I said, walking closer. “Which of my sisters’ loin did you spawn from?”

“Sisters? What…” Her eyes and mouth flew wide. “You’re one of Lorail’s experiments.”

“Was it you or your mother who fell from grace?”

She came for me again, this time with a deviously faint Tunneler matrix whose power was hidden by five layers of complexity. Unlike those constructed by Meaning, matrixes built by skill alone inherently protected the sensus; waving the attack away with greater harmony was possible but much more difficult.

“A failed experiment, I’d say.” Her smirk was distinctly cruel.

Just as Svelok’s matrix had circumvented my rudimentary defense, I hurled an avalanche of sensus at her, a wasteful surge of pure power. Her attack was buried under relentless waves, chipping away at her matrix until it lost all cohesion and broke apart.

Svelok slumped back, spent.

“Aslian?” I asked, naming one of Lorails ruling Fiora’s.

Svelok gritted her teeth. “Ramla. My mother's name was Velu kin Ramla.”

“Was?”

“They killed her and relegated me once they’d found out who my father was.” Seeing me open my mouth to ask, she got ahead of my question. “He was a Named from House Grono. Godling women from House Lorail are barred from bearing any children from anyone but slaves.”

“Of course,” I scoffed. “They can’t very well allow a man outside of their control from poisoning their offspring with the truth.” I leaned over her and tore a sizable piece from her flowing robe, carefully avoiding any region too saturated with her blood. Placing the ripped rag on a free bit of space on the lice-infested bed, I sat. “Tell me, Slevok, how many faces do you wear, and how many know this so-called ‘Raven’ is one of them?”

“Tell me, is my life forfeit?”

I did not mince my answer. “Yes. Whatever happens, you die here. Find solace in knowing your soul will be left to ascend without interference.”

Svelok sighed a sigh so tired as to seem suicidal. Almost as if she were relieved to hear of her impending death. “My superiors know of my identities.” She held up a hand to stop me from speaking. “Let me tell you all I think you wish to know. Ask your questions once I am done.

“I am a member of a syndicate known as Uorago, though few know we exist. We are a collection of houseless citizens who’ve, over the years, set up a guild of sorts, offering clandestine services from assassinations to information gathering. They’d recruited me soon after I’d been relegated to a Root, first by hiring me for jobs, which, with my talents for Paintings, I was well suited for, and later, as my successes grew, I was offered a leadership role. I am currently their principal officer in Discipulus.

“Your contract came from above. I was not given details regarding who commissioned the service or why. A messenger came with nothing but a name, a drawing of your likeness, and the fact that you were a student of The Academy.”

“When?” I asked, my mind whirling with all the new information, yet I found no connections that might elucidate the knowledge I sought.

“The day before you arrived in the city.”

“And your network of subordinates, are they all members of this Uorago?”

“Only a handful. Most believe we are a local broker of illicit services.”

“Given the nature of your work, I assume you have a cache of secrets somewhere.”

“In my office, hidden under the floors by a Brownsmith I have under my employ.”

“I see,” I said, thinking of more questions.

“Any more questions?”

“None that I can…” My words trailed off. Dako had crashed his fist through her face.

My friend hated Tunnellers with a passion I had yet to find the depths of.