Lavastro fought for steadiness as she stepped past the great stone door, seeing all heads turn and all eyes rest upon her. It was a mixed sight. Half the gazes practically glowed with ineptitude, the other revealed a fearsome intellect.

She considered opening with wit. Remarking on circumstance, apologising for lateness to a meeting assembled before she was called. Decided against it.

Humour was a situational weapon. When surrounded by enemies, staring down hostility from all sides and with a political noose about one’s neck, there were others far more suited to use.

“I take it you’ve all had ample time to prepare your words.” She said instead, choosing transparency. Lavastro knew why they had called her, knew they’d gathered their thoughts and consolidated their views before doing so. She wore the fact openly.

Strength was her shield in the face of conflict, and it was one Lavastro had practiced more than any other. One that would have left her confidence even internally unshaken.

Had it not been for the face replacing Lesifarz.

“Lady Kaiosyni.” Greeted Regiland Tamaias, grin wide and eyes alight with bottomless thought. Dark brown hair was cropped shorter on his head than it had been when they’d last met, though his goatee was unchanged. As were the dull green eyes it framed. He seemed no less the straight-backed soldier, and no more yielding.

She felt the same shiver down her spine at the sight of him. Still running through her like a dozen pattering fingers. Bringing haste to her mind, threatening to break her composure.

Of all the Immortals Lavastro had met in her life, few were so cunning, practical or perceptive as Reginald Tamaias. Like agelessness made manifest. That he was an advocate of peace and coexistence between Dewlz and Unix only worsened things. She could suffer no opposition to her father’s goals.

“Good afternoon.” She replied, keeping all apprehension tucked safely from sight. Somehow Lavastro felt the man could see it regardless.

If they did, he betrayed no hint of the fact.

“Thank you for attending on such short notice.” The man said, smiling his broad, affable smile. Only a Menza’s would have been more charming.

“Can we cut to the matter at hand?” Snapped Balogun, eying Lavastro with a fury. She wore her pepper hair down, though drawn tight into many twisted braids that looked to Lavastro like maggots sprouting from her scalp.

A practiced fury was evident on her face, patronising and measured to make the gap in their years clear at a glance.

It did so well, and Lavastro answered accordingly.

“That would be ideal for me, too.” She said. “I’m afraid I have rather a tight schedule today.”

She didn’t, but there was no need for the organisers to sit certain in whatever knowledge their spies had brought to them.

“Filled with damage control?” The woman asked. “After your stunt with the Gemini?”

Lavastro arched an eyebrow, but said nothing more. Beckoning the woman to continue with silence alone.

“You administered a healing relic to her.” Balogun hissed. “We have over a dozen clear eye witness accounts confirming so, all from trusted Sieve staff. And two score more that corroborate the story but failed to glean more detail.”

“Yes, I did.” Lavastro answered, keeping her voice plain. Tinged with confusion, bemusement, and innocence above all else. “However what you neglect to mention, Lady Balogun, is that it was a healing relic of her own possession.”

“And it was administered not by her or her teammates, but by an organiser of the Sieve.” Zilch cut in.

“Is there a rule against that?” Lavastro asked.

She’d found no precedent in the previous Sieves, nor had her combing through the most relevant documents of rules and regulations yielded any declarations against such an act. Even so, she found a nervous stab in her gut waiting for a response.

“There is not.” Zilch said a moment later, appearing utterly indifferent to the fact. Balogun picked the conversation up as it fell.

“And yet there is no rule against an organiser doing many things which might jeapordize the Sieve’s neutrality or start whispers of favouritism amid its attendees. We are still expected to employ basic common sense.”

Basic common sense, of course. Look both ways for wagons before crossing a road, don’t keep a loaded gun cocked in its holster. Let children die so that people don’t gossip about you.

Lavastro held her tongue, though it was a near thing.

“I am aware, Lady Balogun. Which is why I administered the relic to begin with. How much worse would the stories grow if an organiser allowed a contestant to die before their very eyes? Those two dozen witnesses heard mention of the relic, too.

What little reason Balogun held seemed to evaporate as she slammed a fist down in outrage.

“You expect us to believe it was pragmatism that motivated you? All present know of your relationship with the girl, don’t try to hide it.”

Lavastro glanced towards Sorafin and Mylif, finding both men quiet and studious where they sat. Lesifarz was near insensate as she turned to Balogun, moving to the table and taking a seat as she spoke.

“And do all present also know of my role in the Taikan Empire? Some of the decisions I’ve overseen, in past years? Don’t insult me with the implication that emotion would hold any sway over my duty.”

“If it was logic and steel that moved your hand, what brought the certainty that the Gemini’s life was in danger? There was no evidence to suggest it.” Asked Zilch. There was no challenge in his milky, wet eyes, and he seemed no less sickly than ever. Curling Lavastro’s lip with the sight of him as she parted them to answer.

Tamaias raised an open hand, gesturing the entire room into silence. It worked.

“I think we’re beginning to shift off topic.” The Immortal remarked. “Miss Kaiosyni, however noble your intentions, the fact remains that your actions have caused issues for both the Sieve and your fellow organisers. I wouldn’t ask any recompense of you, save an admission of guilt and a promise to lend your efforts to restoring stability.”

Lavastro considered arguing further, denying all blame and fighting for a total victory. A moment’s thought stayed her. She was fortunate to find Tamaias preoccupied enough to offer an olive branch, and only a fool would deny it.

“You speak the truth.” She managed.. “I was reckless, panicked in my decision and hasty in my thoughts. I apologise for whatever complications I unknowingly caused to the Sieve as a result.”

The profession tasted like fish oil and grease. It was still better than defeat by far.

“Very well then.” Tamaias said, smiling and sitting back. “We’ve addressed the tertiary, perhaps in an inadvisable order. Now we can move on to the truly-”

“We most certainly have not.” Balogun cut in. “An admission of guilt is far from the end of things.”

Lavastro eyed her dubiously, realising the outrage she’d assumed false in Balogun might well have been real. Her belligerence was ill explained by anything else.

Don’t want to quit while you’re ahead? Very well then. Let’s play.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“You seek satisfaction?” She asked. “Discipline?”

Balogun met her gaze. Saying nothing, but not backing down either. It almost made Lavastro smile.

Did she truly expect to find her demand fulfilled? If so the woman was a bigger fool by far than Lavastro had suspected. They were peers, the Organisers. Bound by duty with none standing above the others.

Balogun had no right to demand penance from such a slight error. Nor even was there any suitable for Lavastro to carry out. The heir of Taiklos would not be made to expiate, and any who suggested she do so would find only mockery as an answer.

Lavastro spared a glance around, looking for derision or amusement in the other Organisers’ faces. Its absence was more disconcerting than anything else.

“Perhaps we can give pause to this issue.” Tamaias murmured, capturing all eyes with as little volume as that. “There are others more… demanding.”

The speed with which Lavastro’s fellow Organisers tensed confirmed her guess that far more had been discussed before she arrived.

“Please,” She said, “You have our attention.”

Tamaias smiled at her, green eyes making glass of her skin and a book of her mind.

“You recall the butchers’ presence in Udrebam?”

The shivering of Lavastro’s spine made it hard to gather words.

“Yes.” She said. “Of course.”

Tamaias didn’t hesitate, as many might have. Even with the kin of Jack on his tongue he remained undaunted.

“We’ve made contact with them. Or rather, their leader has made contact with us.”

“Their leader.” Lavastro said, not letting herself glance at Zilch and risking his inexplicable knowledge sparking more annoyance. “Whose identity is…?”

“Bob Danielz.” Tamaias answered, inexpressive. “He confirmed all that spies had already told us. Though other questions, his motive, plans… he seemed adverse to the idea of answering them. At least through messengers and retainers.”

“He wants to meet in person?” Lavastro’s awe needed no falsification.

“He does. And it has been decided, before you arrived obviously, that only one of the organisers need acquiesce his request. Though there have yet to be any volunteers.”

Tamaias cast an eye across the room, none met it.

That motion was the final piece Lavastro needed to complete the puzzle. She gazed at the game, studied past moves, turned cards and counted losses. Realised only then that she’d stepped into the trap minutes ago.

“Now.” Tamaias continued. “As none of us wish to meet Danielz in person, and the Lady Balogun remains dissatisfied with Lady Kaiosyni’s past actions, I propose a way for us to solve two issues at a time.”

Looking at her, smiling his affable smile, he continued.

“Lady Kaiosyni can be the one to meet with Bob Danielz, and in doing so wipe clean the slate of her mistake.”

“I support the notion.” Said Balogun, instantly. Eyes glinting wickedly. Zilch quickly gave his own assent, leaving only Sorafin and Mylif undecided, with Lesifarz asleep.

“This is beneath us.” The Immortal sighed. “I abstain from voting.”

Don’t want to put a loss on the records, but don’t want to support it either. Slippery as ever.

Eyes fell upon Mylif at that. Lavastro hoped she’d kept herself as stoic as he did under the same gaze.

“You’ve been quiet so far.” Tamaias noted, studying the man. “Where do you fall on this matter?”

Mylif took a while giving his answer. Lavastro wasn’t certain whether it showed slowness or an admirable wisdom.

“I’m in favour of sending Kaiosyni as a show of good faith to Balogun.” He said slowly. Lavastro leapt upon the chance.

“I accept.” She blurted out, just barely catching her haste and keeping it hidden. Silently thanking Mylif for reframing the matter, however slightly.

“Then we have an uncontested majority.” Tamaias declared.

He looked at Lavastro, still smiling. Still staring through her as if his own victory meant nothing.

“Miss Kaiosyni, I assume this is acceptable for you?”

Lavastro wanted to deny the notion. To scream at him, fill her arms with magic and flip the great marble table at which they sat. Slap away the dagger she’d placed at her own throat, then seize it by the handle and plunge it deep into the Immortal’s heart.

It was a helpless anger. Impotent and childish, born from more than defeat. The knowledge that defeat had been unavoidable.

She’d been completely outdone.

“Very well then.” She said, mouth dry and throat tight. “I accept.”

Suddenly her defeat seemed an insubstantial thing, for it sunk in only then that Lavastro would soon find herself speaking with a butcher.

Sorafin had barely stood before Lavastro was by his side, glaring down at him and wearing her anger as a thunderous mask. She was glad for her height, standing before him. Glad for the physicality it brought to her presence and the weight it lent any words delivered two hands higher than the ears that received them.

“Lord Sorafin.” She said, smiling. “Might I ask for a few moments of your time?”

He seemed amused more than needled by the Unixian title. Lavastro had that much in common with him.

“But of course.” The Jyptian answered without a smile. “What is it you wished to discuss?”

“Your lack of involvement just now.”

The man opened his mouth, perhaps to defend himself. Lavastro didn’t wait to hear how.

“And more pressingly, your part in keeping this meeting secret from me.”

“Surely you understand that there was little I could do.” Sorafin began, irritation flickering in his eyes.

Almost subtle enough to convince her it was real.

“I only found out the information regarding Danielz in the meeting itself, was I to leave and quickly send a messenger for you?”

“Don’t insult me. I can think of a dozen ways you could have communicated the danger, even surrounded by other organisers. You, doubtless, could think of fifty.”

Approaching footsteps turned them both to Tamaias as he neared. Still smiling. Always smiling.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The Immortal remarked. It was a lively jest, warm and friendly. Serving well to obfuscate that he knew exactly what he was cutting into.

“Of course you aren’t.” Answered Lavastro, matching him lie for lie. “Good afternoon, Ser Tamaias. In the heat of prior conversation I don’t believe we had the chance for pleasantries.”

Sorafin greeted him likewise, and she studied the men as their gazes met. Realised only then that she was watching one Immortal lock wits with another. Mountains grinding together before her.

“Well,” Tamaias continued, “It’s a pleasure to see both of you here.”

He stepped forwards, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. The man was shorter than Lavastro, as most were, yet somehow seemed to tower above her at once.

“Now then, I don’t suppose you were discussing the alliance between Taiklos and the Jaxif Faction, were you?”

Lavastro’s reaction must have been affirmation enough, for the Immortal gained a crooked edge to his smirk.

“Please.” Tamaias continued. “I wasn’t born yesterday. And my optimism is entirely removed from naivety. The two of you couldn’t have been more obvious if you’d tried.”

“Is there anything wrong with a conversation about matters relating to our own nations?” Lavastro asked, giving her words a lining of righteous indignation.

“Of course not.” He laughed. “What worries me is the goals you’ve obfuscated. The ones that brought you to accept placement as an organiser.”

Lavastro opened her mouth to answer, but Tamaias spoke over her.

“Oh don’t bother denying it. I know why you’re here. that much is enough. Much as I’m sure it will be enough for the both of you to know that I will note tolerate disruptions within the Sieve, nor unneeded strain on diplomacy between our continents.”

She remained silent at that, as did Sorafin. Tongue leaden, mind dancing like a feather in the wind to dredge up every scrap of information it had ever stored about Reginald Tamaias. Lavastro sifted through it in silence.

A trimage. Seven centuries old, veteran of the Unixian Factional Army and famous even before gaining renown as a hero in the first and second Faction Wars. Old enough to have fought in both as an Immortal.

One of the few men of prominence in the city with more to lose from Lavastro’s success than access to a handful of budding mystics, and all the more remarkable for being a man of prominence outside of Dewlz, hailing from a time when the propriety of sexes was even more ingrained. Competent, then. Dangerous.

Tamaias looked between them for a moment before speaking.

“Have I made myself clear?”

He had. Clear enough that neither of them needed to give any response at all to satisfy him. Tamaias turned, leaving the room without another word.

Lavastro watched him go. Mind ablaze, thoughts sharpened by his words and anger boiling up in wisps at her core. She glanced at Sorafin, then took her own leave.

The thought of meeting Bob Danielz never left her mind, but it was pushed to one side. Displaced by the wake of Tamaias’ presence.

A butcher was no great fright to her. She’d met creatures just as monstrous, even stood beside some. She might well have volunteered for the meeting just to demonstrate her strength of will.

But to rely on such a thing would be taking a chance. Tamaias had deemed it safer to force Lavastro’s hand, and the ease with which he’d done so left her wordless. Speaking more eloquently than anything else to what a foe he was.