Atop the forked peak of Skycrown the Eyrie was calm, the great barrier warding off the turbulent winds that rose from the sun-baked mountains below.
It was said that the Goddess Soleil moved her great solar beacon around Arcadia each day to warm all her children equally with its radiance. The occupants of the Cyclopean Bones were not of her siring, but it fell especially thick upon them all the same.
The thermals made for marvelous flying for any Harpy active during noon time, but the heat drove most to shelter in their roosts.
As a result the midday siesta was a custom most participated in, but in the cool stone chambers of the Priestess there were gathered a less restful cadre, a dozen highborn harpies in impassioned debate.
A curvaceous young noblewoman wreathed in black and purple feathers ruffled them anxiously. “This is too dangerous; we’re giving the Pharyes too much information! The council will grow suspicious if the enemy keeps seeing through our deployments!”
Perched on a plain wooden stool a size too small for her in the huge rough rock chamber, she was distinctly out of place. The minimalist, ill-lit space they occupied would have been more fitting of one of the smallfolk if not for its scale.
Tanit laughed, covering her mouth with a pink wing. “Oh really, don’t be so dramatic, Tiye. You’re such a fledgling.”
The younger woman glared at the middle-aged speaker, but Tanit went on, unabashed.
“After Masika testified against the Stormqueen her faction lost half their support in a single stroke. They’re too busy trying to recover to notice anything we’re doing. – your fears are for nothing.”
Tiye’s tail swished angrily, but the noblewomen present pretended not to notice the disrespectful hostility. “You can’t be sure of that – this is an unnecessary risk! You said it yourself, the Queen’s faction are practically beaten already.”
“I assure you it is necessary, Lady Tiye,” answered Lady Ventora, the bronze-feathered older woman silencing the unrest and murmurs of the others present with a glance. Twice Tiye’s size, she was one of the largest figures present – but the pristine white Thessaly towered over even her.
The Priestess bowed her head to the other highborn harpies gathered around the table in her sleeping quarters. “It is as Lady Ventora has said… though you have all done great work towards our people’s salvation, still dark visions come to me, even in waking. We have not yet overcome the doom impending – if anything it grows ever closer. We cannot dare relent now, or all will be for nothing.”
The gathered harpies grew somber at the sorrowful words of their Priestess.
“But still I must apologize for burdening you all with this terrible duty. You are heroes of the Empire for the perils you brave in secrecy, to serve the greater good; it is to my great shame that I am so powerless to aid you. I pray the Goddess will watch over each of you, and pray too that each of the esteemed and noble ladies here understand the necessity of our work.”
“Priestess, please raise your head,” spoke Lady Tanit, the heavyset pink-feathered harpy looking uncomfortable at the supplication.
“Yes… I was… hasty with my words,” Tiye said, tail curling uncomfortably. “Please forgive me.”
“You have my thanks for your kind understanding.” Thessaly smiled, the two smaller women visibly enraptured by the warmth of her expression.
In the shared silence Ventora spoke up. “We are at a critical moment. Despite recent setbacks the Pharyes’ offensive is progressing well thanks to our information. Another town, Middenfall, was taken today. The court cannot continue to delay if the Pharyes keep winning victories like these.”
“Excuse me, my Lady,” spoke another of the smaller noblewomen. Her yellow feathers and green scales gave her a sunny look, but her expression was dour despite her fair complexion. “But how many more towns must we sacrifice to the enemy? The casualties from the fall of Nefer alone were in the hundreds.”
Tanit snorted. “No harpies were killed at Nefer – and we can’t avoid damage to some Harpy-controlled settlements if we’re going to pressure the council. Be patient, Merytre.”
“They may not have been harpies, but they were still citizens of my ancestral roost, loyal members of the Empire.”
“Tragic as that is, sacrifices must be made, Lady Merytre.” Ventora replied. “They died so that others could one day live in peace and prosperity.”
“You say prosperity, Lady Ventora, but with the loss of labor Nefer will struggle even after the war,” the stern Merytre insisted. “And you say patience, Lady Tanit? Well that’s easily preached when your Ramhorn and your sister’s Grand Chasm are both safe.”
“That will suffice, Lady Merytre, Lady Tanit.” Ventora cut the latter off before she could retort. “It is painful to see our ancestral roosts seized and our Empire weaken, but we act for the sake of all Harpies, not just ourselves. Our duty as nobles is to look down from above, to take in everything and act for the greater good, even if that means some must be sacrificed.”
Another noblewoman spoke. “As you say, Lady Ventora, we must be ready to sacrifice to save the Empire. We’re close now. With the Stormqueen’s actions the court is already in chaos. The Queen’s betrayal and Masika’s testimony have done more for our cause than losing a dozen towns. As for those still holding out for her return… a few more defeats and even the staunchest of the Queen’s faction will be ready to listen.”
“What of the Valkyries?” asked Tanit. “Controlling the court is one thing, but General Jagna won’t listen to us.”
“Jagna is a warrior, she’ll do what she has to, to protect the Empire. With the Stormqueen’s betrayal who can say where her allegiances will fall?”
“General Jagna doesn’t matter,” Ventora insisted. “When the time comes the Valkyrie officers will listen to their families and the court, no matter if a few loyalists and smallfolk among them favor the Queen. Even if we have only two thirds of the Valkyries, we have our personal forces too.”
“What about the lowborn?” another harpy asked. “Will they be ready to accept the Priestess’ rule?”
Tanit laughed mirthlessly. “The smallfolk are a mindless rabble, nothing but leaves on the wind. They don’t know how to do anything but fall in line with whoever sits the throne.”
~~~
The metallic apparition spoke in the sharp, dissonant tone of what I could only imagine was the Dweomer tongue, eyes meeting my own as it bid me welcome.
Could this be some ancient artificial intelligence, I wondered, some sort of… supernatural computer assistant?
“How can I help you?” It asked expectantly, with a stilted intonation.
“Uh, hello. Nice to meet you.” I responded in the same speech, my tongue bending uncomfortably pronouncing the harder words. “Are you… one of the researchers here?”
“I am the non-sentient memory imprint of the First Researcher. I was created as an experiment in preserving the knowledge and experience of aging citizens to allow them to continue serving the species after death.”
“So you’re like… an echo of his personality and memories?”
“A non-sentient memory imprint has access to an essence matrix of all knowledge and experience accumulated by the citizen upon which is it based. In this experiment the stored information was used to create an approximation of the responses the citizen would have given.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then. Does that mean the First Researcher is dead?”
“I hope not, but they do have a habit of neglecting their duty to maintain good health. I’ve told them many times that improving the regularity of their meals and physical exercise will increase both lifespan and productivity. They are also at least 281,474,976,710,656 quarters late for work. Very disappointing, I am ashamed to be based on such an unreliable citizen.”
“At least… that many quarters?”
“That is the interval my chronometer measured prior to failure. When the First Researcher arrives they will need to perform maintenance on my systems, as well as account for their lapse in attendance.”
“I see… well while you’re waiting for him, maybe you can answer a few questions for me?”
“Please obtain permission from the First Researcher to access research information.”
“Well… I maybe have some bad news about the First Researcher actually. You see… there was some sort of disaster, a long time ago now, and the Dweomer are all gone. The First Researcher included. There’s no-one alive in this whole place but me.”
The figure’s face fell. “I’m sorry to hear that, the First Researcher was a productive citizen despite their inefficient memory. They also created me, an excellent contribution to the species.”
Hardly the most emotional reaction, but the ‘echo’ did seem genuinely sad. I also got the impression that the creation had the same ego as the creator must have in life.
“Uh… yeah… I’m sorry for your loss.”
The approximated humanoid was silent, as if the conversation was over.
It felt crass pushing it (him? them?) for more if they were really grieving, but I didn’t have the luxury of waiting.
“So… given that sad news… do you think you can help me? I’m a bit lost down here and I’m looking for some information.”
“Please obtain permission from the First Researcher to access research information.”
“Uh… you mean the First Researcher that I just told you is dead, and has been for thousands for years?”
“Yes, please also inform them that they are at least 281,474,976,710,656 quarters late for work.”
“Look, I don’t need to see your secret research or anything like that; I just need to know where I am and how I get to the surface.”
“Please obtain permission from the First Researcher to access records.”
I narrowed my eyes at the figure, wondering if it was really sentient, or if I was just arguing with a particularly elaborate magical computer assistant. But even if it was the former, perhaps it was too much to expect it to still be operating perfectly after all this time. It had mentioned needing maintenance.
That could be to my advantage however.
“Your memory isn’t so good, is it?”
“I am experiencing elevated failure rates during information encoding and retrieval. I can still operate, however maintenance is required. A full matrix check is recommended, as one has not been performed for at least 281,474,976,710,656 quarters.”
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“Perhaps I can help you with that. I’m the First Researcher’s new assistant, Safkhet, I’m here to assist with their research.”
“I have no record of an assistant by that designation.”
“Yeah, the First Researcher is running late, remember? They didn’t have time to tell you.”
If a memory imprint could hesitate, this one did. I could practically hear the cogs turning as they mulled over my lie.
“Please submit to a security check before proceeding.”
As they spoke an alcove near the device opened, to reveal another security golem.
“Uh, right, of course, a security check. Let me just… say my password…. Lightning, surge forth from my essence; inhabit my mortal form….”
Pushing itself upright the bismuth mass prepared the same scanning magic I’d encountered before, the two of us constructing spells simultaneously.
Shortly after, a smoldering wreck crashed to the floor, and I turned back to the ‘memory imprint’. Hopefully it didn’t understand my incantation, or the brief exchange of blows.
“I think that the security golem may be malfunctioning, but I passed the check.”
“I have lost communication with the security golem. Please log this issue for maintenance. Welcome, First Researcher.”
“Oh… uh, yeah, that’s me, the First Researcher.” I grinned, resisting the urge to pump my fist. This was working even better than expected.
“You appear to be leaking disastrous quantities of essence, First Researcher. I believe my resonance crystal must be malfunctioning, as a living creature could not survive the loss of such volumes of mana.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely a malfunction, because I’m great at controlling my mana. You should just ignore that.”
“You also appear to have gained weight. I’ve warned you before about the need to adjust your diet.”
“Oh come on, what’s up with this place? Just because I’m not a supermodel! I’m not fat, I’m curvy!”
The echo stared passively as I peered over my thighs and abdomen self-consciously through my crosshatched mushroom leather.
“There’s hardly a hint of a tummy on me, most girls would kill to look this good…. Ugh, whatever. I don’t know why I’m arguing with a talking magic spell.”
“I have never understood that proclivity either, First Researcher.”
I couldn’t quite tell if I was being mocked, but I had more important things to worry about.
“Yes, well as you know I’m the First Researcher and not only am I pretty irrational, my memory is really bad too. I’ve forgotten a lot of things again, so can you fill me in?”
“What do you need to know?”
Somehow I found myself unprepared for that question. There were a lot of things I wanted to ask after all. The way out was one, but before that I should probably make sure I wasn’t about to get killed just being down here.
“I don’t suppose you know anything about what happened to all the Dweomer? I mean all the other ones. I’m fine after all.”
“I have no information about that at this time.”
“Figures. That’s okay, it was a long shot. How about the golems, can you tell me anything about how they work? Like how to turn them off, or make them stop attacking… intruders.”
“Like all current automata designs, combat golems are based on the principles of higher-dimensional fractal essence geometry within a topological superspace invariant under homeomorphism, configured to transpose the unit n-sphere into rectilinear spacetime. This transposition onto superspace allows-”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough of a refresher on the, uh, theory of the golems. I already failed math once, no need to rub it in.”
The image tilted their head curiously.
“Ah, uh, is there a central control system for the combat golems?”
“There is not.”
“So how do we stop the golems from malfunctioning and attacking people?”
“All golems are serviced while docked to recharge. Defects are corrected during that process. Issues which cannot be handled by the charging station are reported to Automaton Maintenance and the golem in question is collected for repair.”
“What if I meet a golem that’s malfunctioning dangerously and Automaton Maintenance aren’t around?”
“Other golems in the area will protect you. Combat golems protect all citizens against any threats.” The figure spoke with a patronizing tone, as if I’d just asked a Harpy what color the sky was.
“Yeah… obviously… but about that… what if they’re, uh, all malfunctioning the same way?”
“First Researcher, is this discussion related to our work?” The figure widened their eyes as they spoke. It was hard to know what that might have implied to another of the Dweomer, but to me it suggested that I better not push my luck.
“I’m just… performing a memory test on you! You said you were having some memory errors, right? Well I need to isolate the problem, so just answer my question as best you can, okay?”
The figure seemed to mull that over for a while before they spoke again. “Understood, First Researcher.”
I had to stifle a grin as they bought my improvised lie.
“Okay, so, just theoretically, what would I do if all the combat golems malfunctioned and attacked me at the same time?”
“I cannot find any data on that, however I can extrapolate that you would die.”
“Well you’re definitely malfunctioning then. Anyway, what about the charging stations? What keeps them running and recharging the golems?”
“The Essence Grid provides energy to all devices within the Empire.”
“Oh… correct. Well done. So where does the Essence Grid get its essence from?”
“The Grid is powered by multiple sources. The primary source is void reaction, with secondary support from the absorption of latent and upwelling essence.”
“Is that like how underworld plants collect mana from the air?”
“Yes, it is believed the technique was originally derived from biological organisms.”
“And where does that mana originate?”
“Essence enters the Underworld from the core of the planet, both by diffusing through rock and traveling along veins such as water channels and magma tubes.”
“But why does essence come from the core of the planet?”
“That is not well understood…. I am having difficulty accessing further information on this topic. This may be due to memory corruption, or additional security.”
“What about void reaction? What’s that?”
“Void reaction refers to the use of energy harvested from outside of conventional spacetime. This process is….”
The figured trailed off, looking confused.
“I apologize; I am having difficulty accessing further information on this topic. This may be due to memory corruption, or additional security.”
The echo sounded almost ashamed of themself.
“Alright, don’t worry about it. I’ll make a note of the errors and we’ll move on. You’re doing great so far.”
“First Researcher, are you unwell?”
“Huh? I don’t think so, why?”
“Your behavior does not match my records of you, and you were unusually late to work today, at least-”
“Yes yes, two quadrillion quarters or something like that.”
“At least 281,474,976,710,656 quarters.”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine, right now your memory issues are more important. For the next test, tell me where I can find a map of the Dweomer Empire.”
“Would you like me to display one?”
“Yes!”
The echo widened their eyes at my intense reaction.
“Ahem. Yes, please go ahead and do that.”
The mirror surface shimmered as the metallic shapes rearranged themselves, sketching out an angular diagram of sprawling tunnels and caves. With how they stretched equally in all direction I could guess this was a top-down view. Blank patches and regions where the lines broke up or frayed were, according to the echo, either more memory issues, or areas with additional security.
“Okay, good, now show me a side-view of this city and the immediate surroundings.”
Over several seconds the map was redrawn, creating the image of the cavern we were currently in, complete with a forest of strange buildings and a network of tunnels entering from all directions – including vertically.
Corruption or redaction was at work here too however, the tunnels heading towards the surface disappearing into one of the many regions of missing information. Many of them did at least travel into higher layers of the Underworld however, that much was clear.
Examining the map for further clues, something else caught my eye - a shaft which descended straight downwards right off the bottom of the map.
When I asked about it the echo showed me what was beneath that area, revealing a colossal chamber with irregular and jagged edges that were totally unlike Dweomer construction.
“This chamber here, what’s that?”
The voice of the echo answered, sounding eager. “Are you ready to resume our work, First Researcher? I will do my best despite my memory errors.”
“What is our work right now?”
“We have been attempting to understand the nature of the anomaly within the chamber in question, and its connection to the void reaction.”
“And what’s our current progress on that?”
The voice was silent for a moment.
“I apologize, First Researcher. I am unable to access records on this topic more recent than 4.67.113.86394.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s start from the beginning. We didn’t build this chamber, did we?”
“That is correct, it is believed it preexist all known civilizations. The administrative capital was moved to this site after the anomaly was discovered.”
As much as I wanted to pursue a return to the surface, this discussion was raising alarm bells for me.
“What does the anomaly look like?”
“The core of the anomaly is contained within a barrier, believed to be an isolated superspace containing a spacetime subset, believed to be maintained by an n-sphere isomorphism incompatible with rectilinear spacetime.”
“Well obviously. So do we know where this… barrier came from? Is it anything like the one around this city?”
“No, the barrier was already present when the anomaly was discovered. It did inspire the development of rectilinear ward technology however, so it is not entirely unrelated to the city ward or your own office ward.”
“Right. So… it sounds like we can’t get in there?”
“Not a chance.”
“Were we able to learn anything about what’s on the other side?”
“Experiments probing the barrier were conducted, however…. I am having difficulty accessing further information on this topic. This may be due to memory corruption, or additional security.”
The face of the echo contorted in what suggested frustration, or even pain. Could a memory imprint feel pain?
“Okay, forget about that if it’s uncomfortable. Let’s move on. Do you know why we moved the capital here?”
“Void reactors in the vicinity of the anomaly have significantly elevated output. Those placed within the outer layers of the anomaly close to the barrier produce orders of magnitude more energy. The reason for this is not well understood.”
“Our research is into that phenomenon?”
“That is correct, First Researcher. We have been attempting to increase the void reaction efficiency through intrusion into the surrounding subspace layers.”
“Not superspace?”
The echo looked ready to roll their eyes. “No, it would not make sense to attempt to access a superspace with void reactors.”
“Naturally I knew that. This is just part of the test. Now, could this research into… penetrating the subspace have caused a disaster that killed everyone and damaged your memory?”
“That is unlikely… but… not inconceivable, First Researcher. Early attempts to harness the void reaction prior to the establishment of the Essence Grid included many casualties, and the subspace separation in the vicinity of the anomaly is the narrowest ever detected.”
“What else do we know about this anomaly?”
“I apologize; I am having difficulty accessing further information on this topic. This may be due to memory corruption, or additional security.”
I sighed, debating internally whether I should just get back to asking about ways out before the echo realized I wasn’t the First Researcher.
But while I couldn’t quite verbalize the reason, the more I heard about the anomaly the more I felt it would be a mistake to ignore it.
The face of the echo fell as they saw my frustration.
“Oh, don’t worry – I’m not mad at you. This is all just part of testing.”
They perked up at my words. “Thank you, First Researcher.”
“So, if I wanted to go take a look at that anomaly, or go anywhere else for that matter, how would I do that?”
“You would do that using a flight cube.”
“And what’s a flight cube?”
“An enclosed transport automaton with supplied sustenance and resting space, designed to carry one or more citizens when long distance travel is necessary.”
“I didn’t see anything like that outside in the city, just floating slabs.”
“Flight cubes are unnecessary for most citizens.”
“Why’s that?”
“It would be inefficient to station citizens outside of comfortable walking distance of their place of work.”
“Well, let’s say that I wanted to use a flight cube, where would I find one?”
“You are inside one, First Researcher.”
“Wait, this building can fly?!”
Artificial memories animated by magic or not, the echo gave me a withering look.
“Due to the excessive time spent travelling to and from the anomaly you relocated your office to a flight cube. It is currently docked to the Research Institute, but it can be detached in order to allow you to continue working while travelling back and forth from the anomaly. The necessary additional modifications and permanent reservation of a flight cube were deemed worthwhile due to the high value of your work.”
“Oh… well yes, I knew that, this is part of the test, remember. So… how do I activate it?”
“As part of my duties I am able to operate the flight cube, First Researcher. Do you wish me to activate it now?”
“Yes… but does it only go to the anomaly?”
“That is the only route currently stored in my memory.”
“Are other routes possible?”
“Yes, I can execute any route you instruct.”
“Well… we should probably go check on the anomaly first, shouldn’t we?”
“Are you ready to depart, First Researcher?”
“Yeah, do I… buckle in to something or-”
As I spoke the floor dropped out from under me.
~~~
The sun was setting over the Eyrie as Chione knocked a third time on the simple wooden door to Agytha’s quarters. Without any torches or other illumination the corridor was already growing dim, but for a harpy darkness was little impediment.
“Aggy, I know yer in there! Come out already!” The young harpy demanded. Her ruddy brown feathers bristled with frustration, the dangerous swishing of her stinger-tipped tail causing other servants passing by in the corridor to give her a wide berth.
The servants’ quarters were home to handmaidens to the noble ladies, but also to general workers; smallfolk who cleaned, cooked and otherwise kept the royal palace operating. As such the rooms were small and cramped, but in what was considered a luxury, each girl had her own private sleeping chamber.
“Come out ‘fore the steward comes lookin’ for you! She already asked where you were this mornin’!”
There was the sound of a bolt opening, and then a pale face appeared through the cracking door, framed by grey-feathered wings. Somewhere between child and adult, Agytha looked far too tired for her age.
“That’s more like it. You gonna invite me in or we gonna argue in the hallway? I know I’ll prolly lose, so least lemme do it in private.”
Agytha didn’t speak, but she did open the door and usher Chione inside. She locked it behind her.
The interior was compact, with just enough space for a stool and table, the bed recessed into the wall, a plain affair of woven blankets on a mattress packed with dried grass.
Chione took the stool while Agytha perched on the side of the bed.
“I’m sorry for missing work today, I won’t let it happen again tomorrow.” The smaller girl spoke quietly, her head hung.
“Uh… yeah. Good. Don’t let it happen again, I don’t want you gettin’ in trouble.” Chione said, having clearly expected more resistance.
“I know it’s tough since Saf… disappeared… and now the Queen’s away too…. But you can’t jus’ not show up. Believe me, I’ve tried before. Why’d you skip today? You’re not sick, right?”
Agytha shook her head.
“This about what happened with Saf before Chasm? I told you before, it’s not your fault. Saf didn’t go ‘cause you asked her, she went ‘cause that’s how she is. Too kind and reckless not to try and help.”
Agytha nodded. “I know, Chione. It was hard just after she went missing, but I realized that she wouldn’t want me to blame myself. Even if I pushed her, feeling miserable about it doesn’t help anyone.”
The snub-nosed older girl slapped her knee. “Hah! Guess you really are learnin’, huh? An’ she ain’t dead either! No matter what they say at court.”
“Of course not.”
“Wish she were still here now though,” Chione added with a sigh. “When she gets back you gotta help me knock some sense into her for takin’ off like that.”
Agytha let slip a small smile. Chione grinned back. “Tha’s more like it. Now what was today ‘bout, if it weren’t that stuff? Those highborn brats like before? Jus’ say the word an’ I’ll make ‘em regret it….”
“No, it’s not them. I don’t care what they say any more. You and Saf helped me with that. Besides, we have bigger problems….” Agytha glanced over at the door. It was bolted, yet somehow she still seemed anxious.
She lowered her voice, leaning closer. “I spoke to Masika last night. She said that things are… bad at court.”
“Jus’ because the Stormqueen’s away? She’s been away before an’ we was fine. Things’ll get sorted out when she’s back with the Princess.”
“This isn’t like when the Queen goes fishing for a while during peacetime. They met in a closed session today, but Masika told me what they were discussing. Some of the nobles think that… the Queen has abandoned us.”
“That’s stupid, who gave them that idea?!”
“Keep your voice down, Chione. We aren’t even supposed to know what the court discusses in private.”
“Alright, alright, but who even gave ‘em an idea like that?”
“Masika did.”
Chione stared blankly as Agytha explained the story as Masika had related it – the Stormqueen’s crisis of faith, her dangerous new ideas, worse yet her rejection of her royal duties.
The story concluded with the new developments in the war; attacks on more settlements, with ever-increasing numbers of mechanical enemies, while the Empire was without its Empress.
“Lady Ventora’s been trying to keep control of things, and the Priestess is helping too, but… Masika thinks that the court won’t wait for the Queen to return if things grow any worse.”
Chione grimaced. “Won’t wait… what’s that supposed to mean? They don’t got a choice, do they?” Her voice was thick with scathing contempt. “It’d be treason to try anything while the Queen’s away.”
“Masika thinks that Queen Aellope may not be the queen for much longer.” Agytha’s voice was cool and composed, a quiet hint of sadness the only hint of her own feelings.
Fists clenched, the heavyset handmaiden snarled at the thought. “We gotta stop them. Even if the Queen’s not perfect, she’s about the only highborn ‘round here actually cared about us lowborn. Those others take over an’ things’ll only get worse. I know you don’ wanna get in trouble breakin’ rules, but we can’t jus’ sit around an’ do nothing!”
“That’s right!” Agytha’s intense reply left Chione blinking in confusion. “That’s why I skipped work today. I was… talking to the other girls. Not the highborn handmaidens, the smallfolk like us. The Queen has always been good to us, to all of us. If we can’t trust the nobles, then we have to be ready to stand up for her ourselves.”
Chione gaped. “Agytha… that’s… that’s gotta be… treason or something!”
“Insurrection, to be precise.” Gone was any hint of hesitation or timidity. “But let’s not shout about it here in the palace. Not until we can convince the Valkyries at least.”
Chione stared at the thin little handmaiden sitting on the bed before her. Agytha met her eye with resolution clear on her thin face.
“Aggy… I didn’t know you had it in you!” Chione beamed.
“I guess I learned a little from Saf about breaking rules.”