The Gledhill estate was about as far from the South Side as you could get. Tenthé finally made it and stood outside the gates. Facing him was a sentry wearing a uniform that was a mix of the Guardian and Gledhill uniforms he knew from before.
“Message for the General’s wife,” he declared.
“He’s going to be late. Right? I’ll tell her.”
“No. I have to make sure it’s delivered. You’re stuck out here. Who knows when you can pass it along.”
“I can’t allow you to go inside. Sorry.”
“Okay, I’ll go back and let the General know what you said.”
“You do that, boy. Everyone realizes he won’t be home on time. He never is.”
Tenthé ran off down the street. When he was out of sight of the sentry, he hopped the fence, defeating the wards and various other defenses. They even had a couple of guard beasts he took a moment to play with. Tenthé didn’t want to hurt them since they might be pets and weren’t really dangerous. Sure, they had huge teeth, but were so fat that they could hardly move.
After leaving the beasts behind, he carefully crept through the grounds. There was always a chance that the wealthy had some way to sense him through his stealth. So far, though, he’d not run into anything even close. Nothing at the level of the Guardians.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen any of them, either. Most likely, they’d been affected by the change, too. Somehow. It was something he could find out at the College, along with a few other things he wanted to look into.
So far, though, it appeared that the Turtle God and the Dreamer had gotten rid of a lot of what he cared about. That was something else to think about.
The Gledhill estate was very large, containing quite a number of buildings, with several extending underground, as well. It was early enough that here was a great deal of activity, so Tenthé took care to avoid the people moving about.
One sprawling house was obviously the manor. That was most likely where Isabell would be, if she was here. He had no idea what the cubes might have done with her after he’d left to visit Angel City. Maybe she’d be like him: something out of place in the new version of the City.
At the moment, Tenthé was doing something he liked to do, lurking. From where he was in the bushes, he could see that the ground floor of the manor was well designed, with only two doors and no windows. But, for some reason, the next floor up made up for that lack with many windows and balconies.
Tenthé wondered at the way some people thought. He honestly did not understand it. Most certainly, the upper floors were warded. But really? Any self-respecting thief or warrior could jump that high and breach the defenses without a problem.
Tenthé didn’t even have to do that. He simply followed someone through the servant’s entrance before the door closed. He had to avoid an inquiry from a ward, but he ate it, causing a hiccup to pass through the mesh of house wards. Fortunately, the system wasn’t smart enough to recognize what he did, so eventually it settled down. Just as he knew it would.
Tenthé figured his Runner uniform was an adequate disguise, so he dropped out of stealth, and, as expected, the servants running around took one look and dismissed him. Because, really, he was nothing more than a Runner. Or rather, a Runner pretending to be a Runner who was supposed to be here. He snorted.
Since he wasn’t sure where to go, he made his way to the kitchen. It was always the hub of rumors and gossip, probably someone there could tell him where to find the lady he was supposed to deliver the message to, and maybe something about Isabell.
After a few false turns, Tenthé found it. As expected, the kitchen was very large, with cooks everywhere and even a few guards taking a break at a table in the rear. He walked up to them and grabbed some bread and water. As he sat on a chair. the guards stared at him.
“How’d you get in here? We’re not supposed to let anyone in, except estate staff.”
“Yeah, that’s what the sentry told me. I hopped the wall when he wasn’t looking and followed some servants in. Your wards need work,” Tenthé replied as he ate.
The guards glanced at each other, then began laughing. “Haw-haw-haw!” one of them began. “We’ll have to give Smyth a hard time. Some boy got by him.” Then he added, “You know, we’ll have to report this.”
“I s’pose. Do you mind if I deliver my message before you throw me in prison? Where can I find the lady of the house?”
“Let me guess: the Lord’s going to be late?”
“Yeah, yeah, but I’m supposed to give her the message anyway.”
“Her office is on the second floor, at the back. Look out for the seneschal, she’s a piece of work. Remember to address the General’s wife as Lady Gledhill or your life won’t be worth much.”
“Thanks. Are there any others I have to watch for? Kids or something?” Tenthé probed, proud of his sneakiness.
“Yeah. To tell the truth, once you’re upstairs, avoid, well… everyone. Since the Gledhills are the leading family, they’re pretty um, let’s say… impressed with themselves. At least the boys. Keep away from them if you can. The girls, you don’t have to care. They’re all locked away, you know, to keep ‘em pure or something.”
“So, the Gledhills are the leading family? What happened to the LePoiterices?”
“Who? Never heard of them.”
“Hey, yeah,” one of the other guards added. “I think there’s a store close to the town center with their name on it. Just a small one, though. Pretty sure they’re not much.”
“Okay, thanks. That’s another place I have to go to drop off a message. Where is it, exactly?”
He received some directions that mostly made sense. It appeared there had been a shuffling of family positions in the Dreamer re-do. Leo wouldn’t be happy.
As Tenthé got up, the guards gave him a bit of a hard time. “Good luck, kid. If you come down in chains, we don’t know you,” one of them said.
“Yeah, thanks. I don’t know you either. What’s the best way to get up there?”
Again, he got some conflicting information and left the guards arguing while he headed to one of the choices. As Tenthé exited onto the second floor, he found even the servant’s corridors were much nicer. Carpets and everything. Probably so they wouldn’t disturb their betters’ slumber.
He made his way to the back of the house, once again being ignored by everyone he passed. Eventually, he ended up next to a forbidding looking door made of dark wood with an excess of carving. He found a flat spot and knocked while ignoring the wards that tried to bite.
“Come in,” he heard, faintly.
Tenthé pulled the latch and opened the door with a little too much enthusiasm, it flew open and slammed into the wall. He stepped in.
“I have a message for the Lady of the House from the General,” Tenthé announced to the cold old lady sitting behind a massive desk.
“Don’t you know how expensive that door is?” she asked in an appropriately frigid manner.
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“No, ma’am,” he answered truthfully.
“You may call me Seneschal,” she added.
“Yes, sir, ma’am Seneschal,” Tenthé replied. “About the message?”
“I am the Lady’s secretary. I assume he’s going to be late.”
“The General told me to tell the Lady that he’s going to be late.”
“Very good, you may go.”
“Can I ask a question?”
The Seneschal looked up. “May, not can. Well, I suppose… but what would someone like you want from me?”
“I knew Isabell before the Dreamer and the Turtle god redid everything. I came to see how she is.”
To say the Seneschal was surprised would be a bit of an understatement. She nearly went over backward in her chair, flailing her arms until she recovered, then grabbed a crystal hanging from the necklace around her neck and began yelling variations of “Lady! Lady! Come here!”.
Shortly afterward, an inner door slammed open and a very elegantly dressed woman rushed in.
“Bridget, what’s the matter? Whatever is the fuss?” she inquired.
“This… this boy asked about Isabell. Said he knew her from before, well, you know, before the change!”
The Lady turned to stare at Tenthé. If he thought the Seneschal looked cold, this lady had no humanity in her, at all. She waved her hand, and a line of force sliced across Tenthé. Tenthé simply stared.
The Lady’s face went a little red, then she gestured much more widely, and a schism tried to force itself through him. He rode it out until it had passed him by.
With this failure, the Seneschal pulled something out of her desk and fired it at Tenthé.
Or attempted to. He had disabled the device, not wanting to deal with the massive amount of energy it could have released. The Seneschal stared at the weapon like she couldn’t believe what hadn’t happened. Then, as if on cue, the two women looked at each other and started yelling, “Guards! Guards! Intruder!”
After a few moments, as no guards appeared, they became perturbed. The Lady made a sudden dash for the door she’d come through, and found it had closed and wouldn’t open.
She turned and stared at Tenthé, then asked, “Are you a god? You should be talking to Turtle! Not us. We’re nothing!” she dissembled.
“I just want to see Isabell. Is she here? Can you take me to her?” Tenthé replied.
“Why do you want to do that? She’s nobody. You can’t hold her hostage, she has no value. Tell me what you really want and we’ll make a deal,” the Lady suggested. Tenthé had run into this attitude many times in the past. Some people simply couldn’t believe that all he wanted was what he said.
“Just take me to her. After that, we can talk.” He had no intention of doing so, but in situations like this, you had to let the powerful think they had some amount of control.
Her eyes narrowed. Tenthé didn’t know what she was plotting but he was confident it was something. Whatever.
“Follow me,” she said. “I’ll take you to her.” A glance passed between the Seneschal and the Lady. Sure as anything, they had a plan.
Tenthé waved for her and the Seneschal to go first, then he followed. The Lady found that the door worked now, so she opened it and walked through some hallways to another office. It was very elegant with an even bigger desk than the Seneschal’s, surrounded by floor to ceiling shelves of books and parchments. Tenthé was pretty sure most of them had never been touched.
The Lady stopped by a bookcase, fumbled with some wards, pushed some specific spots and a section swung open, revealing a set of stairs leading down. Tenthé disabled the alarms she’d activated. The Lady seemed a little upset by the lack of anything happening. After a short pause while everyone except him waited for some calamity to take place, they began descending.
Exiting into an underground office, they crossed to a door and exited into a large room where there were soldiers everywhere, drilling, lounging, and discussing things in groups. He let the ladies yell and scream all they wanted as he herded them past. The soldiers carried on as if nothing was happening. Which, to them, was true.
“So, what now?” Tenthé asked as they had reached the center of the training hall. The Seneschal took this time to collapse on the floor, crying. Tenthé cast a small spell which blew through her defenses and made her pass out. Effortlessly, he bent down and hoisted her onto his shoulder.
The Lady watched while he dealt with the Seneschal, and when he was ready, turned to lead him toward a door that screamed dungeon. Tenthé opened it to let them through, then shut it after. The sentry by the door ignored the entire thing.
Sure enough, the hallway on the other side had robust and lockable doors lining it. With his magical sight, Tenthé could see the ones closest were suites, but further in, the rooms became more like cells. Some of them looked very uncomfortable and their occupants seemed to agree.
Tenthé was relieved to find Isabell in one of the nicer suites. He opened the door to an unoccupied chamber, motioned for the Lady to enter and after she had done so, tossed in the Seneschal. She’d be okay. Probably.
He then locked the door, relaxed the mental controls he’d been using, set up the wards to ignore any commands from within, and encased the rooms in a barrier that should keep the Seneschal and Lady contained for at least a day.
That taken care of, he opened up the door to Isabell’s rooms and let himself in.
“Just leave it over there,” he heard as he entered.
It wasn’t what he expected. The sitting room he found himself in was… frilly. Very pink and lacy. The bed, shelves, and chairs were tatted and covered in needlepoint. Everywhere were quilts and wall hangings decorated with vast panoramas of mythical figures and idyllic nature scenes. The light globes were all draped with sheer cloth that made the light soft… and pink.
In the corner, buried in layers of lace and even more pink, was Isabell. In her hand, she had some sort of sewing contraption and was working on yet another needlepoint creation. Tenthé peered at her. She was, if anything, a bit chunky. Her hair was piled in masses to a tremendous height and she had on enough makeup to paint the City Hall. Her lipstick was so bright red that it was nearly impossible to look at directly.
“Oh, hello, little boy,” she said, brightly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. My, that uniform is so drab. I really must make you something that presents more of a statement. Come over here where I can see you.”
She put down her needlepoint and gazed at him. Cautiously, he crept nearer.
“Don’t be shy,” she gushed. “I won’t zap you. At least, not much!” And she tittered.
Tittered. Isabell did not titter. This wasn’t right. He scanned her. She was, at heart, basically okay. Her magic didn’t look wrong, just… unused.
As diplomatically as usual, Tenthé asked, “What happened to you? How did you become… this?”
“Oh, whatever do you mean? And who are you? You aren’t one of my regular attendants.”
Instead of answering, Tenthé added, “Why is your magic so, um, dusty? It looks like you never use it.”
“What? Don’t be silly! A proper lady doesn’t sully herself with that! She sews. Like this.” She indicated the contents of the room. “When my family finds me a suitable gentleman, I will move to his house and have babies. That’s how it is.”
With this, Isabell sat back and smiled contentedly at him.
Tenthé returned her gaze, then asked, “So, this is where you live. How long have you been here? In this… prison?”
“Oh, since I grew up. When I was little, I could run around the estate, but…” At this, she stopped and a small cloud crossed her face. In a moment, it was gone, and she smiled again. “I was an energetic child and spent a lot of time locked up here. It was not as nice then. It is now, though.”
“Do you want to leave?” he asked.
An unexpected flash of terror crossed her face before the mask settled into place. “Oh, no! I couldn’t! Mother would be so angry.”
This wasn’t Isabell. He scanned her, hard. Numerous scars covered her mind and body, and what he could sense of the cubes had been pushed away, far into the distance. There weren’t any overlays, but something had happened and her spirit was broken. He’d seen it before. In fact, he’d been the cause of it a few times.
He didn’t really know what to say, so he meandered over to look at one of the larger needlepoint scenes. At a few paces, it was very realistic, but as he got nearer, he could see it was made from little squares of different colors.
Uncountable little squares. Occasionally, the proper color scheme was broken by an anomalous orange square. As he took in the entire work, he found the orange squares occurring fairly often.
He spun and faced her. “So. Do you dream?” he asked.
Isabell was surprised by the change in topic. “No, I don’t think so,” she answered slowly.
“Is this familiar?” He manifested a little orange cube and started it bouncing.
Isabell stared at it, completely mesmerized. Her head bobbed as the cube went up and down, up and down. She didn’t break away or acknowledge anything else. She simply gazed at the cube, watching. Up, down, up, down.
Tenthé watched her thoughts slowly change as the minutes passed. Drawing his attention out and away, he could see there were now two cubes. The second one was real, making his attempt pale beside it.
Glancing around the room, he figured that Isabell would be safe enough here. At least for the moment. Plus, he really didn’t have anywhere else to take her. With a thought, he cast a spell so only Isabell could see the cubes. It would fall apart if anyone looked closely, but he was pretty sure nobody would care that she was acting a little spacey.
Having done what he could, he let himself out and strode to the cell the Lady and Seneschal were enjoying, and proceeded to rip out their memories of the last few hours. He felt no remorse as the crudity of his surgery rendered the both of them unconscious. Grabbing the bodies, he hauled them back up to the Lady’s office, where he threw them on the floor, then stalked out of the manor.
Fortunately, nobody confronted him. He walked to the front gate and slammed it open. The sentry, a different one than before, looked startled as he went by, but didn’t challenge him. The man convinced himself that it was just a Runner, but down deep, he knew he’d just barely avoided a terrible fate.