“You know,” Anad said, pointing the sausage roll at Gevar as the gorgeous woman – Seriously, how does she look that good after two weeks on the road? – reviewed reports at the loaned desk. Small chaos butterflies appeared as she read quietly, before being quickly absorbed into the unsheathed sword laying next to the papers. “The way you’re strutting around here…”

“Strutting?” Gevar asked without looking up.

“Yes, strutting. Anyway, you’ve got something up your sleeve. You’re acting the same way you did when you arranged that rooftop dinner for us. The one with the orchestra conveniently playing in the courtyard below. You remember?” Anad asked, popping the last of the food into his mouth.

“Oh, I remember the night,” Gevar said, glancing at Anad without lifting her head. “I also remember what happened after dinner.”

“Yes, well,” Anad said, a touch of heat in his neck. Spicy sausage? “You’ve got a secret.”

Gevar paused, then gently laid the pen across paper she’d been reading. “I do,” she finally said. “Though you shouldn’t get your hopes up for another dinner like that one… yet.”

“Yet?” Anad asked, spotting that sparkle in Gevar’s eyes. It’s not just a secret. She’s planning something big.

“Sir Junithar himself gave me leave to come after I explained my plan. If things go as they should, and it comes out I acted under his supervision, he should gain more than his usual prestige, and I should be in for quite a promotion,” Gevar explained, standing up to walk around the desk and then lean back on the front of it. “Quite a promotion.”

“Sir Gevar Warren?” Anad asked. Sir Junithar sent her? Then success is really the only option…

“At the least,” Gevar said.

“Are you just going to keep teasing me or…?”

Gevar stroked the line of her jawbone in thought, then nodded as she came to an internal decision. “You’re here, so you might as well be part of the operation,” she said. “And, after I get promoted, I’ll need capable people I can trust at my side. I fully expect to be given my own division after my time in Bastion.”

Anad rocked back in his seat at the proclamation. The Mediators only had a handful of divisions, five publicly, and six if one were to believe the rumors. For Gevar to be so confident at either being given command of one of those, or to have a new one created… she must have something special planned.

“Why are you in Bastion?” Anad asked, leaning forward again. “I know you said you were going to find the enclave here, but… that’s not enough to get your own division. There’s more to it than that. Sir Reghald just took care of the enclave south of here, and there’s no talk of him getting a promotion.”

“Yes, yes, good work oh wonderous Sir Reghald,” Gevar said with a flip of her hand and a roll of her eyes. “Do you know how many years it took them to find that enclave? Years, Anad. Years. He’s been looking for that enclave almost as long as you’ve been alive. It’s not an achievement to be proud of. I’d honestly be embarrassed I were him.”

Anad glanced back at the closed door, despite it only being the two of them in the room. “Careful, Gevar. Sir Reghald is well-liked here. The other Mediators may not appreciate you talking about him like that.”

“Oh, what are those bumpkins going to do?” Gevar said, then took a breath. “Though, you may have a point. I still need them for the time being. See, this is why I need your counsel as I move up through the ranks.”

“Mmmm,” Anad nodded noncommittally. “What makes your plan so much different?”

“Well, first off, I’ve only been looking for this enclave for six months,” Gevar said, the smile spreading across her face. “Not to mention I’ve discovered it right under the noses of one of our very own garrisons. Another embarrassment, if you ask me, but perhaps I should position it as a chance for the Mediators here to confront the Tinks who’ve been silently laughing at them. Yes, yes, I need to make it about the Tinks thinking they could make fools of the garrison, and not about the garrison’s incompetence.”

“That’s… a good plan,” Anad said, then stopped. “Wait, you’ve been working on this for six months? When I was with you in the capital?”

“Yes, of course,” Gevar said with another flip of her hand. “Though the real work was before that. But, now… now we’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough. The likes of which hasn’t been seen since the Escalation War,” Gevar said, face practically glowing with pride as she looked up at the ceiling like she did when she thought of the future.

Mention of the war sent a shiver up Anad’s spine, or maybe it was the idea of innovation. Breakthroughs had almost led to the end of the world. “Did you… develop a new weapon?” Anad asked, thinking back to the one Tel had used in the forest. If Gevar had something more dangerous than that…

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“No, no, nothing like that,” Gevar said, turning her attention to Anad. “Who needs weapons when we’re Mediators? We are the greatest weapons this world has ever seen. We would’ve ended the Escalation War had the process to grant us our abilities been discovered earlier. No, I didn’t develop a weapon, I did something far more brilliant.

“I found a way to create and track specific chaos energy over long distances. Like how we recognize a sorcerer’s magic if we’ve felt it before, I created a way to produce a consistent type of chaos we can follow anywhere. At almost any distance. From here to the sea, or down to Little Rock, or across to Okenfort, we can track it, because of what I’ve discovered. What I’ve pioneered,” Gevar said, holding up her hand and clenching his fist. “The Tinks won’t be able to hide from us anymore, and Sir Junithar will truly see how valuable I am.”

Anad nodded at the possibilities of what Gevar was saying, though part of his brain wouldn’t let go of the idea Gever had been working on this… without Anad knowing. And, from the sounds of things, the entire time they’d been together. Sure, our relationship is a secret… but…

“How? How did you do it?” Anad forced himself to ask, to take his mind off the enormity of the secret Gevar had managed to keep. If she didn’t tell me this, what else hasn’t she told me? No, that’s not fair. This is big. A State secret. She couldn’t tell me, that’s all. Sir Junithar wouldn’t have allowed it. His punishments for disobeying are too… drastic… to risk. But, then, why is she telling me now…?

“I won’t bore you with the details of how it works,” Gevar’s mouth said, though the look on her face seemed to say she didn’t actually think Anad could keep up. That’s not fair either. I’m just raw because of the idea of keeping secrets.

…like the one I’m keeping about Tel and Shara, and that building in the woods.

“…and the clock emits a highly specific type of chaos,” Gevar was saying, and Anad focused back on the words. “We have another device, simply called a Sensitive, again, I won’t get into details, that can be used to home in on that clock’s chaos. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Anad said slowly, running the words over a few more times quickly in his head. “But, how did that lead you to Bastion? Or make you think there’s an enclave here?”

“Even when it isn’t ‘on’, the clock emits a steady, but tiny, stream of chaos energy. Barely, barely noticeable, but the Sensitive is able to track it. It’s somewhat time consuming and slow, but we were able to follow the trail here to Bastion,” Gevar explained.

“The trail?” Anad asked, then it clicked in his head. “You let the clock fall into the Tinks’ hands, didn’t you? They’re going to fix it, and when they turn it on…”

“It will lead us right to their doorstep,” Gevar said, smiling like a wolf. “It’s been in the city a few days, almost long enough for them to complete repairs on the… minor damage we were sure to leave on the clock. With how much they like to test what they repair, I’m sure it’ll be any day now.”

“And if they don’t turn it on?” Anad asked.

“The Sensitive will still be able to pinpoint the location given a few extra days,” Gevar answered. “Though, that will be slightly less exciting. Still, once I’ve proven this method works, we’ll be able to methodically track down each and every enclave.

“And wipe them out.”

The bloody bodies from the mountain enclave flashed in Anad’s memory, and he had to consciously stop himself from shaking his head. Is that much killing necessary?

“The Tinks are smart, Gevar, even you have to admit that. They’ll figure out how we’re finding their hideouts,” Anad said instead of asking the question bouncing around in his head.

“So? That works to our advantage too. If they worry that any clock is a trap, that means every clock could be a trap. They’ll either live in constant fear, more than they do now, of course, or choose not to use clocks anymore. Either way, it’s a win for us.”

Anad nodded, what else could he do? Gevar was right. If this worked, it could be the end of the enclaves. The end of the Tinks. And sorcerers would shortly follow, without anybody to fix their watches.

“It could change everything,” Anad said.

“Not could. Will,” Gevar corrected and took a step towards Anad, but came up short at a knock at the door. “Maybe that’s it right now,” she said quietly, then louder, “Come.”

“Mediator Warren,” the unfamiliar but older Mediator said, stepping into the room with a small nod of his head. “I have a report.”

“The enclave?” Gevar asked, excitement clear in her voice.

“Uh… no Mediator,” the man said. “Well, maybe?”

“I don’t have time for riddles. Out with it,” Gevar said, her razor-thin patience worn through already.

“The Whistler has been spotted going into a building in the Stock Quarter,” the man said.

“The Whistler? In Bastion?” Gevar said, her finger going to her jawbone to tap. “How long ago?”

“We just got the report, so within the hour. The building is being watched in case he moves, but we didn’t want to make any moves without your input.”

“That was the correct choice,” Gevar said, speaking slowly as she worked through something in her head. A nod signified she’d come to a decision, and she gestured at the older Mediator. “Go and let Mediator Vallom know we’ll be heading out, and to get my personal unit ready.”

“Yes, Mediator,” the older man said, then turned and left without another sound other than the door clicking closed.

“The Whistler?” Anad finally asked when they were alone.

“A sorcerer,” Gevar explained. “One of the most wanted. His magic can negate the senses of anybody who hears his whistle. Sight, hearing, sense of touch, he can remove any he chooses, though we think only one at a time. We’re not completely sure about the range, or if one needs to really hear his whistle, but he’s trouble. Even Mediators have no defense against this power.

“If he’s present at the enclave when we execute our raid, it could be problematic. We need to see if we can remove him from the picture, quietly,” Gevar said.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence he’s here?” Anad asked, standing and stretching.

“I don’t see how it could be anything but that. If the enclave knew we were here for them, they’d be abandoning ship, not bringing in their most valuable sorcerers. It’s a coincidence. No, an opportunity.

“Come on, Anad. Let’s go make me famous.”