Rakesh puts up a good showing with the mana puzzle, but as expected, it’s his mentor Ezio who truly shines. He bests the fifth level of the complex mana puzzle after three attempts, the last of which leaves him drained and dizzy. He vows to match my record within the season, which in turn spurs me to declare that I’ll be an entire level ahead of him by the time he catches up with my current progress. I’m not sure who’s in for the ruder awakening, but chances are good that neither of us will be able to achieve our goals. This test is devilishly hard.
Lost amidst the back and forth of banter and bravado after everyone has a go at the two glass orbs is the arrival of my [Inquisitor] friends. They fade into the background and stick to the shadows—literally, in Mbukhe's case, although he nods to me before turning my focus away, so I know he’s there. When there's a lull in the discussions, Casella steps up and clears his throat, catching everyone’s attention.
“Games are well and good, but some of us have work to do. Ready for our meeting now, Nuri?” He nods toward the glass puzzle orbs and grins. “Or do you have more dominance to establish?”
“Ha. I’m sure you could beat me if you put your mind to it,” I say. “If there’s one thing I learned from Xharrote, it’s that you [Inquisitors] train all sorts of exotic mana tricks.”
He shoots me a warning glance, and I get the hint and decide to play nice for once and not continue that line of conversation. Fine. Let him keep his secrets. I’ll see what I can uncover once we’re speaking in a more secure location where we don’t have eyes on us.
“Ah, perhaps our timing is less than fortuitous,” Ezio says, sidling up to the [Inquisitors] and addressing me. “Rakesh and I were hoping to discuss our plans with you in greater detail, Nuri. I hope that Casella will be so kind as to not fully monopolize your time.”
Mbukhe materializes out of the shadows, making Ifran yelp and jump back, and the quiet man gives Ezio a slight bow. “We are amenable to company.”
I meet Rakesh’s eyes, and realize our faces mirror each other: incredulous, bug-eyed looks with a spark of anticipation. He’s grinning in excitement. It’s not often that the aloof [Inquisitors] are willing to include others in discussions. The honor that Mbukhe offers Ezio is a sign of their deep respect for my one-time teacher.
Or perhaps they want to be privy to our plans.
“Good first class, everyone!” I call out to the shop workers. “We’ll pick back up next week and talk about proper mana retention structures and practical applications of mana control. In the meantime, I'll leave these glass puzzle orbs here so you can all practice. It takes months of hard, thankless work to build up the requisite control for imbuing; don't feel bad if it's slow going.”
Leaving the workers to grapple with the difficult test, I gesture for the inquisitors and researchers to follow me into the back store room. I don't have an office space or a comfortable meeting room, so this will have to do. The four of them pick out seats on top of the shipping crates and storage units, facing me in a loose semicircle.
Ezio sizes up the people in the room. The muscles around his eyes tighten. After a long moment, he sighs and shakes his head. “All cards on the table?”
“Indeed,” Casella rumbles. “We’re all on the same side here. Nuri trusts you, and so do we. No sense obfuscating.”
“Wait, what? Nuri trusts me? But of course! I’m an independent [Scholar] and his teacher. You lot are Royal [Inquisitors]!” Ezio says with a burst of laughter. “I would think that the burden of skepticism lies with you, not me.”
I massage my forehead with my knuckles, staring out of the corner of my eye with sudden interest at the most insane things: a whorled knot in the shop floorboards, a spattering of old yellow spots in the wallpaper, the little carved bone buttons on Rakesh’s vest. Anything to avoid making eye contact with the rest of the room.
As the tension rises, I realize I have to take charge. It’s up to me to fix this problem. “Listen. I am the one who pulled you all into this web of secrets: the existence of the astral navigator, the true nature of the wraiths, the withheld details of runic research, advanced mana-imbuing, and so on. I trust each of you; I need you to trust each other, too.”
“Care, Nuri,” Ezio warns me. His hands grip the edge of the wooden crate upon which he’s perching, and his alarm seems to grow as I recite my list. “A secret is only a secret when it’s known by one person. If two people know, then it's only a question of time until the details leak. Three or more people aren't secret-bearers anymore; in fact, that many people practically opens up the matter for public debate! Some things are better left unsaid.”
“Agreed. Yet knowledge grows when we share what we know. Hoarding information only makes us less informed—weaker and less well equipped. We need to work together.”
Rakesh purses his lips, and raises his hand, as though he’s in class instead of attending a meeting of the minds. When I nod at him, he smiles tentatively. “Shouldn’t we meet back in the Silaraon City Academy, where we can erect a privacy ward?”
“We can take care of that,” Mbukhe offers, withdrawing a spindly set of wires. He tosses it up into the air, and the hair-thin filaments expand like a ghostly spider web catching a summer breeze, billowing out slowly to fill the space and create a translucent dome over our heads.
“Impressive,” Ezio murmurs. He turns to me with a single arched eyebrow, as if to ask me if I am satisfied with the one-sided warding.
Assuming I’m reading his unspoken request properly, I oblige by taking out my notepad from the travel pack by my right hip. The pack is hanging by a leather strap, slung over my left shoulder and angled across my chest, so that I have easy access with my remaining hand. I place the black-leather-bound notebook on a nearby packing crate, spin it around so that they can all see, and painstakingly draw two complex runes—one on each open page.
“If you can parse these, Ezio, then you can increase our security.”
He coughs into the crook of his arm. “After my rather, ah, aggressive attempt at your mana puzzles, I’m a bit drained at the moment. Rakesh? Would you be so kind as to implement and power these runes?”
“I’m not sure I understand them,” Rakesh admits with halting speech as he studies the complex runes I sketched. His forehead wrinkles in concentration. “Should I try anyway?”
I shrug. “Can’t hurt. As far as I can tell, if you don’t have the entire rune suffused with mana, then it simply won’t activate. These aren’t simple runes. Failure doesn’t usually mean a catastrophic blowback. They’re just harder to wrap your mind around.”
Rakesh places his hands on the pages. His eyes flicker briefly with a burst of mana, and then a ghostly spell matrix appears in front of us, hovering in the air. Each rune is represented in exact detail. They appear to be a perfect copy of my drawing, which leads me to realize that it’s one of his Skills on display.
Must be nice. Maybe I should double-class into [Scholar], and try to upgrade it to [Runic Researcher] someday. Maybe far in the future, I could consolidate into [Runic Glass Smith]. The thought brings a smile to my face. That title has a nice ring to it.
Energy flows out from Rakesh, bringing me back to the present. I squint, trying hard to cycle the dregs of mana I still possess, hoping I can overlay the mana across my eyes. Perhaps my [Manasight] Skill is broken, but with effort, I might be able to copy the working vestiges of my Skill and get a sense for what’s happening.
The runes hum with power. Like a second skin, a soft, minute pattern of mana settles over the security ward placed by Mbukhe, tightening into place and dampening any sight or sound that tries to escape our little bubble.
“Well done,” Ezio murmurs, patting Rakesh on the shoulder. He beams with pride.
“I’m amazed that the Chief let you leave after learning such things, Nuri,” Casella says. He crosses his arms across his muscular chest, frowning in a fierce way that I’m suddenly glad isn’t directed at me. “You’re touching on secrets we’ve worked hard to uncover. Be careful, my young friend.”
I smile in what I think is a reassuring manner. “Xharrote knows that I won’t react well to further imprisonment or coercion. We’ve come to an understanding. I will work with you, rather than for you, and we’ll both get what we want that way.”
“I sincerely hope that’s how it works out,” Casella replies, but he still seems troubled. “If he’s really fine with you learning this kind of information, however, then perhaps we should be more forthcoming with our own secrets. You’re not far off from learning how to peer into a core, or to gauge power levels, assuming you can find a [Healer].”
“Will a normal [Healer] even be able to help me?” I ask, intrigued that Casella thinks it’s possible. The ones I’ve met so far aren’t powerful enough to work on internal energy systems, and Lady Evershed seemed to indicate that the level of healing required is too exorbitant even for her formidable coffers.
“If I may offer a suggestion?” Rakesh says, still hesitant to speak without permission. He hasn’t stopped watching the [Iniquistors] from the corner of his eyes—with about as much trust as a [Shepherd] watching a mangy wolf pack circling his flock.
“Please do,” I say as warmly as I can, inviting him to contribute.
“Well, if I were you, I’d insist on traveling to the [Menders] headquarters. Perhaps their [Headmistress] can use the Singing Azure Rod to amplify her healing Skills and restore your internal connections and reservoir. Call it a glass-making research trip, since it’s related to the same Master we discovered previously.”
Mbukhe nudges Casella. They lean closer together, whisper intently. The two shoot a few odd looks toward Rakesh, but finally separate, seemingly at an accord.
“What happened to sharing information?” Ezio snaps, his voice sharper than I've heard in quite some time. His face appears relaxed, but his hands are hidden in his robes. Perhaps he has some sort of escape artifact on him. Only now do I realize the full extent of how strange and perilous our connections are; we're each taking significant risk to reveal what we know.
Casella clears his throat. “We’re getting there. I can’t tell you everything, you realize. No matter how much I prize transparency and teamwork, there are some things—no, hear me out,” Casella all but growls, lifting a strong hand to forestall any response from Ezio. “I’m sworn to silence regarding certain topics. There’s nothing you or I can do about it.”
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Ezio considers for a moment. He sighs and seems to swallow his anger.
“As I understand it,” Casella says, more sedately this time, “the [Inquisitors] would be pleased to have a presence among the [Menders]. Their healing order is infamously insular, but both Nuri and the young [Healer] in the workshop would benefit from the visit. In time. We have much to teach Nuri before sending him halfway across the country.”
“Such as how to insinuate himself into other people’s business?” Ezio says. He leans to the side, his lips pursed, and peers at Casella intently. “I won’t deny there are many things he can learn from you, but the [Menders] do good work. Please don’t endanger the very lives they are sworn to save for the sake of political expediency.”
“Peace, [Scholar],” Mbukhe says. “We are not at cross-purposes. I would see Nuri learn more about the inner workings of the soul. He needs to learn the theories underpinning magical realities if he wishes to take full advantage of any healing they may provide him. If he can pacify headquarters by presenting his trip as a sanctioned mission, then they won’t pull him into other, less beneficial projects.”
“That makes sense,” Rakesh says, standing up and pacing in the narrow confines of the storage room. He sheds his former hesitancy, and I recognize the spark of excitement glowing in his eyes. He thinks he’s on to something. “Let me go with you, Nuri.”
“I’m not going anywhere quite yet,” I say, although no one seems to listen. “You’re more than welcome to join me if I ever leave in the future.”
“I’ll pack my bags tonight,” Rakesh teases me. “Combined with the runes you’ve learned, this could be my big break!”
“Take care how you frame your thesis,” Casella cautions Rakesh, stirring in his seat to face the enthusiastic young [Researcher]. “Nuri’s a good man, but he has yet to learn discretion. Runic research of the nature he was exposed to will certainly put the Capital on high alert if the details begin to crop up elsewhere. He’s prone to sharing information he probably should keep quiet. If you learn something extraordinary, try to tone it down prior to publication.”
“Censorship?” Ezio mutters. He huffs. “Typical. But not on my watch.”
“Self-preservation,” Casella says by way of correction. “Or would you want both of your students to undergo imprisonment and experimentation? It’s imperative that the [Viceroy] does not continue to grow stronger. He is ambitious beyond belief.”
My eyebrows quirk in surprise. Real anger lurks beneath the genteel timbre of Casella’s voice. I’ve always known that he’s a bit of a non-conformist, and he's willing to sidestep orders, but the emotion in his declaration is personal. There’s a story there, unless I miss my mark.
“We will not shy away from a discussion of the nature of magic, mana, and the observed ‘system’ of Classes and Skills,” Rakesh says defiantly, mostly managing to keep his words from wavering. “I will publish my findings with all the integrity expected of a graduate of the SCA.”
Casella lifts his eyes to the ceiling, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “You are a known associate of Nuri's. What do you think the [Viceroy]’s response will be when you suddenly start using language that could only possibly be sourced from your friend? He will not let Nuri continue to enjoy his freedom. Nor will Mbukhe and I remain unentangled; he casts a wide net, and he will not hesitate for a single second to draw in the two of us as well if our order’s deepest secrets show up in the hands of outsiders.”
Rakesh glowers. Now that he's discovered his backbone, he's not keeping quiet. He steps up to the bigger man, righteous indignation blazing on his visage. “And I had begun to respect you for the sake of Nuri! Bah. So that is what you meant by ‘self-preservation’ and all this talk of caution. It's fine if Nuri risks life and limb for the sake of the realm, but as soon as your hide is threatened, you want to stop the rest of us from advancing!”
“Perhaps trusting each other was premature, if you insist on a suicidal course of action,” Mbukhe says mildly. He tilts his head toward the exit, rising to his feet and unfolding his shadow-wreathed cloak from where he'd draped it over his arm. “We will take our leave.”
“Wait! We still need to discuss Tem,” I call out as the pair of [Inquisitors] make to depart. They turn back to me, their faces still as stone, and I wonder if I’ve overstepped by bringing up more secrets.
“Tem’s long-standing friendship with the good [Scholar] Ezio is the sole reason we’re here at all, not to mention entertaining a risky partnership with civilians,” Casella says slowly, choosing his words with deliberation. “But to speak of rescue is to open the door to treason—a charge you've only just shaken off. Are you sure this is wise?”
“Tem is alive?” Ezio says. His shoulders sag, and he leans weakly against the nearest wall. “From your grim expressions, I can only surmise that he is in some sort of serious trouble. I don't need to know any of the details, but I want to help. I owe him a great deal, both personally and professionally.”
The [Inquisitors]’ combative stances fade at Ezio’s impassioned declaration. Mbukhe smiles thinly. “Alive, yes. Given the charges leveled against him, I’m sure a smart man like you can figure out the score.”
Ezio frowns. “I see. He’s always been a danger to [Mages] since he can bypass their senses and mana shields with his void aspect. Now they’re returning the favor.”
With Ezio’s conclusion, the pieces fall into place. A chilling thought grips me. “Does this mean that the [Viceroy] is responsible? He leads the cabal of mages in Densmore, and I know he doesn’t care for Tem’s viewpoints, but I never suspected that he’d take such direct action against a national hero.”
“Tapirs has wormed his way up. He counsels the [King],” Casella confirms. “Official sanctions from the crown have the [Viceroy]’s fingerprints all over them.”
“He did seem personally invested in the war efforts, based on what he showed me in his magical map room. Have you seen it? I’d love to introduce Ezio to Coco. His eyes would pop out of his head if he saw what that construct is capable of,” I say.
Mbukhe chuckles in his subdued, private way, his shoulders shaking in silent mirth. “Coco is quite the experience. Funny girl.” Then his eyes narrow, and his gaze turns cold. “Dangerous. Easy to forget that. More than ever, we must be on guard now that they have access to the navigator.”
“Is this ‘navigator’ what I think it is?” Ezio asks, directing his question to me as he seems to connect the dots. When I nod, he blanches. “You gave it up as part of your plea? Forgive me if I say it's a bad trade. Of course I'd rather have you home safe if that's what a pardon required. From what I understand about the nature of the realms on the other side of the astral void, escalating this war could lead to a serious warping of the very fabric of reality.”
I frown thoughtfully. “Destabilization is the opposite of what we’re seeing. Why do things seem better than before in Silaraon? The strange, chaotic storms have stopped. Is that due to the [General]'s military actions, or is something else at play?”
“He’s helping,” Casella says, surprising me with the force of his conviction. “He may not be a pleasant man, but he’s effective.”
“Isn’t it in Tapirs’ best interest to show the trouble Tem’s ideas cause?” I ask.
Casella snorts in derision. “The [Viceroy] wants nothing more than to win the war in as flashy a manner as possible. It’s hard to present yourself as the great hope of the people if the world is disintegrating around you, but he also wants credit for saving them.”
“We’ve got to get Tem out of there,” I say, scowling at the thought of my friend stuck in a prison, surrounded by wolves like Tapirs.
“Rescue is a discussion for another time, although we will keep your willingness in mind,” Mbukhe says. He peers at me—within me—and then assesses Ezio and Rakesh in the same dry, detached manner. “Realistically, you all need to get stronger before you’ll be much help.”
“Don’t be so dismissive,” I say, but Casella gives me a flat look, and the rest of my protest dies before it passes my lips.
“You seem to forget, Nuri, that we can see where you stand. While we do not have the same invasive tactics or eerie precision as this Scalpel you spoke of, we can see your Potential and Skills. That technique is something that you may learn from us since you are a hired agent, but I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to also teach your friends. That would go against our initiation oaths—though it occurs to me that it’s a shame we can’t return you to the capital for the rites. You'll have to be responsible without the binding vow.”
Ezio’s eyes light up at the unexpected peace offering. When I see his excitement, I can’t help but smile. I can function as a proxy for the academics, potentially bypassing the [Inquisitor]’ restrictions.
The [Scholar Nonpareil] stands up and bows. “We may approach things from different angles, but I understand the prudence of your warnings. For the sake of unity and continued cooperation, Rakesh and I will abide by your recommendations.”
“You see? This is going well. I look forward to the rest of our convivial conversation,” I say to tease the young [Researcher], grinning impishly.
Rakesh shoots a stormy look my way while he kneads his forehead with his fingertips, which only makes me laugh harder.
“Nuri, don’t despair over this partnership just yet,” Ezio says, a slight smile on his face now that we’ve gotten past the initial unpleasantness of our arguments. “I’ve got some good news to balance out the divisiveness and dark declarations. Remember my cousin? I’ve made arrangements with him to set up trade agreements and contracts.”
“Already? You’re as fleet as the wind, Ezio!”
“Thank you, but save your flattery for when it actually works out,” he says drolly.
I nod. “Expecting trouble?”
“On the contrary. I have a good feeling about your plans. In fact, when I visited my cousin, he said that his [Merchant] Skill went off as strongly as he’s ever sensed, indicating that this was lucrative in the extreme. We may need to keep an eye on the established guilds, since they will not take kindly to competition. Aside from drawbacks outside of our control, we should be well positioned to earn significant money from your imbuing plans. No one’s ever mass-produced imbued glass goods like you described.”
“We may be able to revisit your initial plans for glass armor, ” I muse. “I believe I still owe you for that investment. I intend to pay my debts. The more we can put into motion before setting out on a long expedition, though, the better. We’ll need all the funding we can get.”
Rakesh pulls out a notebook of his own. “I continued researching glass on your behalf, Nuri, in case you returned. My suspicion is that you still need to go to Kalhue, despite not winning the competition. Perhaps you can still gain entrance to the studio’s library? Your father’s swords, and the Singing Azure Rod, share many similarities. If you can uncover their secrets, I believe you’ll find the path to the peak of glass-working.”
“I’ve already confirmed my way forward,” I reply, certain that I am moving in the right direction. “There’s a good chance I can get in, though. Zephyr, the woman who won the regional competition in Grand Ile, worked in my cohort. We spoke briefly. I’ll bet she’s talented enough to take the entire thing, including the follow-up round Rakesh uncovered. If my hunch is correct, then she will let me study in the library—assuming she knows I’ve been pardoned. I made quite the scene when I departed.”
“Worse than your usual fireworks? That’s tough to believe,” Ezio says slyly. It’s good to see a hint of his natural levity is back after our squabbling.
“I’m only warming up. Wait until I become the new [Viceroy of Glass],” I say, winking at his horrified expression. What’s a little light treason among friends?
The teasing continues from all sides, lightening the mood considerably as we discuss further plans—though I note that the pair of [Inquisitors] still don’t go into details regarding Tem’s imprisonment. They solicit Ezio’s feedback on theoretical scenarios, and I’m sure that if we read between the lines we can figure out more information, but none of us push the issue.
At last, we bid each other farewell and go our separate ways. My frenzied thoughts are running at full speed, maximum capacity, but I’m glad we have a clear idea of our next two big adventures.
“Good talk?” Lionel asks when I emerge from the back room at last. “The least you can do is catch me up on what I missed.”
I chuckle awkwardly. “I think so. I’ll tell you what I can. Later.”
“You better have a good explanation for disappearing on us,” Lionel grumbles. “I’m tired of the secrecy.”
“Better get used to it. I’m a mysterious, important person,” I tease. “Besides, we have that expedition Mikko and Ember planned for us tomorrow. Glass-making will have to wait a while.”
Lionel crosses his arms. “What about teaching me to imbue? All we did today was play a game so you could show off how advanced you are.”
“Mana control helps! I promise you that it will bear fruit if you keep practicing.” I waggle my eyebrows and lean closer. “Besides, I’ve also got a lead on your second Class. I think it may end up proving more valuable than glass-making. We’ll talk about it tomorrow during the training mission.”
“Wait, training's tomorrow? Already?”
I nod. “It’s time to shift our focus. You ready to go hunting?”
This time, the reminder of our upcoming adventure brings a smile to Lionel’s face. My offer to help with his [Healer] class must have mollified him. He flings an arm around my shoulder. “Born ready. Let’s hunt!”