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Vendor of Spirits
Prologue 2: My Old Drinking Buddy

Prologue 2: My Old Drinking Buddy

Henry considered his options. The first thing he did was use a teacher's command to lock the door. Thankfully whoever had designed the Academy Core had made its functions completely opaque and anonymous. "Don't step in the blood," he muttered as he wandered down the benchrows. He found a seat that was clean and sat down.

He was here because he... couldn't find a few of the tests he was supposed to evaluate over the weekend, and wondered if he had left them in the hall. Yeah. He had ported in, found the place like this, and... promptly notified the authorities, like any decent person would.

That was not an option.

So how much work would it take to sweep all this under the rug? He took another look around the hall. The wards had been on standby, and old Squidface would have drained any active ones, if not shattering them outright. And this part of the Academy was practically deserted at night, all servitors offline, so there wouldn't be any records of what had happened. The Core would show a large ambient fluctuation in the west wing of course, but that wasn't unheard of. Lots of things happened in places where magic was used frequently. An extremely localized soulstorm that only knocked things around a bit? Yeah, he could probably serve them a long-winded theory and get them to clam up.

So the whats and hows of it weren't too insurmountable. The problem was the who. The other teachers knew better than to enter someone else's lecture hall unbidden, such a thing was considered incredibly rude in academic circles. Someone outside the Academy? Extremely unlikely. They may have disabled some of their security, but the Core still would have picked up anyone it didn't recognize and teleported them out. No, Henry trusted his initial hunch that it had to have been a student. Possibly more than one, judging by the sheer volume of gore. Yuck.

He would wager that his new wall decorations used to be Meylor. That kid had a headache-inducing knack for getting into places he shouldn't. Henry had considered hiring him for a job or two in the past, but quickly discovered that the boy had a raging hero complex. If it was indeed him, then there was no cause for immediate concern. His parents had been on holiday when the Silence fell, and were practically marooned there. His classmates would miss him for sure, but they'd probably figure he was off on another one of his "expeditions".

Any other candidates? He'd started keeping tabs on the students after the Aldrey incident, he would have to go through his notebooks again and see if anyone stood out. Hopefully it wasn't any of the clansmen, the elders had a nasty habit of snitching to the Party whenever one of their pampered little sprats got a booboo. But all their protegees took private lessons, and none of them had ever set foot in his class. They were mostly evokers and alterationists, since that was where the prestige lay.

Had there been others besides Meylor, then? Having calmed down a bit, Henry turned his focus inward and tried to feel his mana base. Attempting to get a precise reading on it the way normal people did was just not feasible, normally he had to use a meditation technique and stay in trance for a few minutes, and that was time he did not have at the moment. But a cursory checkup showed him that - holy shit, that he was way above normal. Had they been four?! Or three exceptionally gifted ones?

This was bad. One daredevil going missing could be chalked up to monsters, spell backfires, telefragging, street brawls... all sorts of arrangements could be made. Two, possibly, though it would be harder to hush down. But three missing kids was impossible for the Board to ignore, they would notify the Queensborg immediately and the place would be swarming with drones within a day.

He had to figure out who had been on tonight's menu, fast.

He could do a bit of necromancy. Talk to the bones, see who answered. His Eldritch Aim had gone undetected, which reminded him that it was still active. He mumbled a dispelling chant, and his third eye collapsed in a puff of smoke. Both demonology and necromancy were forbidden within the campus, but little cantrips like that usually flew under the radar. Yeah, screw it. He'd read the bones quickly, find out who they were and make the necessary precautions. And if things went tits up there was always the Contingency. Being a teacher had started to grate on him anyway, no fun in lecturing when you can't do practical demonstrations.

He got up from the bench and squinted toward the closet. He had to get the remains out of there somehow, but he did NOT want to get closer and get all that stuff on his shoes. Should he call Jayburn right now? Nah, that could wait. Surely he could do this alone. He cast a levitation spell, aiming it at the bones and mechanical debris. They shuddered and rolled over, but did not fly into his bag of holding as he had intended. Ugh. No, he was too drunk and too agitated, and didn't even want to think about attempting a scouring spell. Those were particularly nasty when they backfired. He grunted and turned around, looking at the dormant servitor in the recharging creche next to the podium. Seemed like he would need his accomplice after all.

The servitor sputtered to life and looked at Henry with its dull, golden eyes. "Hello. How can I help you?" it asked in a pleasant, genderless voice.

"Privileged access", said Henry. The servitor responded in a much more curt and businesslike tone: "Name and codephrase."

"Henry Ixplag Plurbinquarg, timeless expanses beyond the horizon."

"Hello Henry. What functions would you like to access?"

"Reawaken in setup mode, with current privileges." He waited a few seconds for the servitor to close its eyes and open them again, and nodded when it stretched its arms out in a pose resembling a T, its face an unmoving rictus grin. Normally he'd be using his slate to interface with it, but he had left that in the sofa at home. Oh, how he missed his sofa. Verbal commands it was, then.

"Run routine farspeakconfig. User hplurb. Password tonka. Reconfigure grid access point. Select access point 187." The servitor gave no response, but its eyes blinked rapidly a few times, and that meant the backdoor bypassing the Core was open. Henry waited a few seconds and continued. "Exit. Run routine farspeak."

The servitor's face assumed a more human expression. "Who would you like to speak to?"

"Jayburn Mowbray."

The servitor closed its eyes. Henry waited and tapped his foot nervously. After a minute, it opened its eyes again.

"Yeah?" it said in a drowsy voice.

"Hey pal, it's been a while! I'm here burning the night oil and could use a break. And I was thinking I should call my old drinking buddy."

A long pause followed.

"Right now?"

"Yeah right now. Really could use a good buzz, there's plenty for you too." The servitor grimaced in disgust and fear. It never ceased to impress Henry how those things managed to convey emotions through the ether. Grandiloquent Industries really had come a long way.

"Okay, but the rounds are on you. And I hear the price has gone up recently. Way up. Your place or mine?"

"My place. Don't bother knocking, just let yourself in. Man, I'm thirsty."

The servitor sighed. "How thirsty exactly? Weren't you planning on quitting?"

Henry glanced over his shoulder. "Hmm, three or four bottles at least. Not the top shelf, but not the usual swill either. And yeah I was gonna quit, but then this just happened. I'll fill you in when you get here."

"Right. Okay, give me a few minutes." Henry was about to end the call, when the servitor continued. "Oh crap, that reminds me, there was a kid here yesterday, asking about... asking for directions to your place. I told him you'd moved, but he didn't seem convinced. That wouldn't happen to be the reason for the bottles, would it?"

Henry groaned. "Was it THAT kid?"

"Yeah."

"Then yeah, fair bet to say so. And I have no idea how he found my liquor cabinet."

"...This is the last time I'm doing this. I'll come over, but you better... you'd better get your act straight, Henry. Last time, got it?"

"Crystal. And thanks, Jay." The servitor went dormant again. "Factory reset, override code 0x3db3d" Henry mumbled, and the servitor died completely and collapsed in a heap. That would raise some suspicion, but the memory in those things was nearly impossible to tamper with, and the Academy technicians would hopefully pin the reset on the soulstorm. Jayburn would have to do the same on his end, but Henry wasn't worried. That janitor knew his business.

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Several kilometers south of the Academy, near the top floor of a large building in the central district, another servitor opened its eyes. It turned its head to look around, but couldn't find its designated operator. A quick search revealed that no other servitor on this floor had Dina Stonks in its sight, so it left its creche and ran over to her replacement.

"Jenkins?" said the heavy-set human it had tapped on the shoulder. "What the... Did Dina forget to switch you off for the night? I can do it for you."

"No," said the servitor. "I must find Dina. I have a message for her. Where is Dina?"

"Uh, she's left. It's past working hours, how are you still active?"

"Is Dina still in the building perimeter?"

The human blinked a few times. Inferior circuits. "I... yeah, I guess. She left a couple minutes ago." Jenkins did not answer him, and merely ran back to its creche.

Outside the building the air was bitter cold, bearing the promise of winter's arrival. Dina was crossing the courtyard and about to enter the teleportation sigil when one of the guards hailed her.

"Dina."

Odd. She was pretty sure she'd never spoken to any of them. How did it know her name?

"Yes?"

"This is Jenkins," said the guard. "Please hold. I have temporarily assumed a different shell because I have an important message for you."

She rolled her eyes. That guy... thing... took her job more seriously than she appreciated sometimes.

"Jenkins, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow. It's midnight. I'm going home to my husband."

"This message is of the highest importance." The guard-Jenkins held out its hand.

"Ugh. Fine." She pulled out her slate and let Jenkins hold it for a few seconds, then took it back when it buzzed. "Let's see what's so dang important... oh... Oh that little BRAT! I'll MURDER him! Why couldn't they have taken him along when they left?! Arrrgh!"

Jenkins mused that the message had not been to Dina's satisfaction, but the implications went far beyond its directives. It relinquished the shell and returned to dormancy.

"Have a nice night, ma'am," said the guard to the fuming woman who stormed towards the teleporter, her long, silvery hair trailing behind her.

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Jayburn lifted up a blood-soaked piece of duct tape and quickly scoured it clean. Henry had to admire the man's alteration skills. The note was still legible.

"Told you that was a bad idea. Hiding in plain sight is one thing, but that note? Shmuck bait, I tell ya. Might as well say PLEASE ENTER." His accomplice had mostly been silent until now, another one of his miraculous qualities, but apparently he did not approve of Henry's attempt at obfuscation.

"Yeah, well I couldn't just leave it unlocked, could I? He, it, they, whatever, doesn't like being boxed in for some reason. Wards are out of the question, and you saw what it did when we put a regular lock on the door. For some reason it didn't mind the duct tape."

"Prolly cause it knows how the students think. For a teacher you sure are dumb sometimes." Henry had no answer to that. "Okay, so that's about all of it, near as I can tell," Jayburn continued, and gestured at the now spotless lecture hall. "Imma let you do your thing with the bones. And then I'm going to get drunk for real."

"Yeah," said Henry. "Thanks again. I'll have your stones ready tomorrow."

Jayburn frowned and looked at the floor for a few seconds, then grabbed Henry by the collar. "Listen here. I meant what I said. Thugs and street trash, I don't give a heck. But now the students? First it was that Aldrey guy in seventh grade, and I swallowed that because A: he'd found where we stashed the booze, and B: he was a maniac who wanted to join the Vendelites once he graduated. But a bunch of third-graders? Those kids weren't even eighteen! You do NOT. F***. WITH. KIDS, HENRY!" Jayburn had winced when the profanity ward struck him, but he didn't break eye contact. Henry grabbed his hand until he let go.

"Jayburn. I told you. This was completely unprecedented. I've never known it to void a contract like that. Twice a year, that was the deal, those are the only times they take the Core down to rest. I can't get outsiders in otherwise unless I kill them myself, and it has no interest in corpses. We're still months away from the next maintenance date, and I had received no warning until my alarm suddenly went off. I did not want this to happen, I swear it. And I agree with you, we're not doing this again. I'll pester it until it agrees to let us brick off the room and open a gate somewhere else. Someplace safe, nowhere near the Academy."

Jayburn looked at the floor again. "How many stones is enough, Henry?"

Again, Henry had no answer.

"That ward manipulator in there?" Jayburn continued.

"What about it?"

"I got a good look at it before I incinerated it. That wasn't no seventh circle breaker. Looked to me like experimental government tech, the type that's soulbonded to a bloodline. I didn't wanna say it before, but I'm telling you now, for old times' sake. I don't know what kind of foxholes you've got, but now's the time to pack your stuff and bolt." He turned and left.

"Jayburn," said Henry, too low for him to hear. "Jayburn!"

Jayburn turned around and threw his arms out to the sides, not finding any words beyond what had already been said. Henry reached into his bag of holding and opened up a very specific compartment. The Contingency vehemently disagreed with any known means of triggering it voluntarily, but it had been written long ago, in a different age. He found what he was looking for, and pulled it out.

"What's that?" asked Jayburn and looked at the item. "Some kind of spell rod?"

"No," said Henry and hurried over. "No, it's more of an alchemical device really. I picked it up as a souvenir during one of my travels, but it's completely mundane. Here, take it." Jayburn hesitated for a second, but his mana sense told him the thing was harmless. He took it.

"Wanna tell me what it does?"

Henry smiled. "Absolutely. Point it at my forehead and pull the trigger."