High Commander Rouvad was not in her office; her aide directed Principia to one of the temple’s basents. Hopefully the Commander was not expecting her on any particular schedule, because the trip to get there, after climbing to the top of the temple and then down below it, took a quarter of an hour at least.
It was perhaps fortunate that Principia had spent most of the walk practicing her control over her expression. When she entered the basent in question to find Commander Rouvad and Bishop Syrinx standing over a table of battlestaves, she revealed none of her considerable ire on her face.
“Ah, Sergeant,” Rouvad said as she marched up to them and saluted. “Finally. How did it go with the Eserites?”
“I left them in Sister Tianne’s custody, ma’am,” Principia reported. “On my recomndation she is having them thoroughly clean out the outpost’s stables prior to releasing them.”
“An interesting choice,” Basra comnted. Principia did not even glance at her.
“I see,” Rouvad mused. “What was your reasoning, Locke?”
“Guild apprentices aren’t particularly dangerous and don’t know anything useful about the fully accredited thieves who are, ma’am. Having them prosecuted would serve no purpose and irritate Boss Tricks. The Sisterhood doesn’t have the prerogative to administer punishnts for civil offenses like arms trafficking. The Guild itself, however, would discipline apprentices for a failure of that kind, unless the chief enforcer felt they’d already suffered for it. Putting them to work and then letting them go satisfied the needs of both cults to enforce discipline, averted a confrontation the Guild might take as provocative, and even nurtured so goodwill.”
“Good initiative,” Basra said mildly. “I believe handling relations with the Guild is my job, however.”
“I have heard no suggestion that your Grace’s work is anything less than exemplary at the political level,” Principia replied, still at attention. “My squad is tasked with cultivating interfaith connections, however. I think much of the Sisterhood’s hostility to the Guild is due to a misunderstanding of mindset, even more than doctrinal conflict. Avenists are all about rules; Eserites are all about connections. Showing them that we can be reasonable and forgiving opens the door to future cooperation.”
“Even when that forgiveness is clearly self-serving?” Basra asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Especially then, your Grace. Otherwise they would rely be suspicious.”
“At ease, Locke,” the High Commander interjected. “It sounds to like you handled the situation well. How is your weapons developnt project proceeding?”
Principia didn’t blink at the abrupt change of topic. “I am still working on the sticking point I referenced in my last progress report, Commander. The tal of a lance head makes a poor firing surface. tal is a magical retardant; it holds passive enchantnts well but doesn’t want to transmit magic through it, and as an added complication conducts electricity very well. The avenue I am pursuing at the mont is to tinker with the alloy used, which is difficult as I’m not a tallurgist by any ans. I’ve sent for research materials from Stavulheim and Yldiron.”
Rouvad raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been following your requisitions, and I don’t recall seeing anything like that.”
“No, ma’am, I made those purchases with my own funds. I’m reluctant to spend the Sisterhood’s money on what I’m not certain will bear fruit.”
Rouvad sighed and shook her head. “You’re picking up so of Nandi’s habits. Your concern for the Sisterhood’s coffers is noted, Locke, but henceforth I would prefer you requisitioned anything you needed through the official channels. Projects like this need thorough records, and reading requisitions enables to keep abreast of your progress without wasting both our ti asking questions.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
The Commander turned to frown at the table of weapons, which Prinicipa took the opportunity to study. They had been heavily modified with large crystals at both ends and gold fraworks spiraling around the upper half of each. With the exception of one laid aside, whose frawork was a tarnished gray and showed serious rust damage.
“It has probably occurred to you to wonder what the Silver Legion was doing interrupting a Guild arms et,” Rouvad said. “This actually ca from Bishop Syrinx, who was tipped off by Bishop Darling that what was taking place in that warehouse would be very important and of interest to us, specifically.”
“Eserites in general love to play pranks, especially on us,” Basra added. “Darling is too political to waste goodwill that way, though. He’s never led astray before, so I presu that this was important.”
“Anything to add to that, Locke?” Rouvad asked.
“I concur with the Bishop’s assessnt, Commander. I have not worked directly with Darling, but I know him and his reputation. He’s a bridge-builder.”
“Mm.” Rouvad nodded. “And that leaves us with our catch. There were three vendors present, according to our scouts; they all escaped, leaving a few hapless apprentices holding the bag. One was dealing in so orcish antiquities, and got out with his stock. That is potentially of cultural value to the Sisterhood, but a less likely prospect. The second had a selection of conventional weapons with illegal and nasty modification—again, not really the Sisterhood’s concern. Those we seized, and I am debating whether to simply destroy them or turn them over to the military police.”
“Why the uncertainty, ma’am?” Principia asked.
“Because,” Rouvad replied, “if we hand them off to the Empire, they will have questions if it later beco necessary to give them these as well. Lord Vex wouldn’t be the least bit surprised at a major cult withholding evidence from him, but if I have to admit to it the loss of face could have practical consequences. And these, Locke, are why I called you here. The last Guild vendor had several crates of them, and was discussing a sale with two dwarves. At the mont it’s my assumption this is what Darling sent us to find.” She picked up the lone weapon with the tarnished tal and handed it to Principia. “What do you make of this?”
She accepted the staff and turned it over in her hand, examining every part of it carefully. “…well, at a glance, little more than you can see for yourself, ma’am. It’s a modified battlestaff. Why is this one different?”
“That one has been used,” Rouvad explained. “They all arrived in the sa condition. We tested one, though, and after being fired four tis it abruptly changed to that and stopped working.”
“How does it perform when fired?”
“It doesn’t. Or at least, it doesn’t appear to do anything. Here, watch.”
The Commander lifted the staff in a standard firing position, grasping the clicker and tucking the butt under her arm to aim; despite leading a military which used an older generation of weapons, she was clearly not new to handling modern firearms. She took aim at one of the target dummies standing against the wall of the basent chamber and squeezed the clicker.
The crystal at the end of the staff emitted a burst of golden light, which flashed across the room to splash against the dummy. It dissipated instantly, rocking the dummy slightly but having no significant effect.
Rouvad lowered the staff and set it aside, carefully putting it separate from the other, unfired models. “We’ve also tested it against shield charms, in case it’s so kind of shield-breaker. It did nothing to those, either. It seems likely that it is intended to do sothing specifically to a person, which is deeply disturbing and, of course, explains why Darling might find it necessary to tip us off about this. But there is no ethical way to test that, of course. Before we resort to such asures, I want to see what can be learned through analysis. Thoughts, Locke?”
“Well, first of all, I understand what happened to the broken one, now,” she said, still examining it. “This is liargold.”
“Excuse ?”
“It’s an alchemical formulation of iron pyrite, also known as fool’s gold. Liargold, in addition to looking like real gold, also mimics its magical properties. Not for long, though, as actually putting magic on or through it damages its structure, until it reverts to plain, simple iron pyrite. In fact, if you see any object made from pyrite, it’s probably exhausted liargold; it’s not workable like more useful tals. These weapons are cheaply-made knockoffs, probably nothing more than proofs of concept. Also, ironically, more illegal than the modified wands. You need a license and Imperial oversight to work with liargold, since its primary use is, of course, counterfeiting coins. I surmise these devices require gold to work. Which… Yes, I can see why nobody wanted to shell out for a whole crate of them.”
“I had a feeling you were the person to ask about this,” Rouvad said in a mildly satisfied tone. “I am temporarily suspending your enchantnt program, Locke. For the ti being, you will instead direct your effort to these things. Figure out what they are, how they work, and what they are ant to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said calmly. “Commander… Reverse-enchanting weapons is a completely different matter from designing new ones. My divinatory skills are minor and wholly inadequate to this task. I’ll need a dedicated scryer to work with.”
“We’ll get you one,” Rouvad said, then glanced at Basra. “For the ti being, I want this kept quiet, at least until we know what we’re dealing with, here. In addition to figuring out what the devices themselves are, I want to know where they ca from. You will both pursue that, from above and below, so to speak. I suspect Darling would have told you more if he intended to, Basra, but see if you can get anything more out of him.”
“Gladly, Commander.”
“And Sergeant, do likewise. Discretion is key, but I want you to dedicate your squad’s efforts to finding and following leads. This is now your primary mission; Captain Dijanerad will be inford.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said, saluting. Her gaze cut sideways for a second to Basra, who was now studying her through narrowed eyes.
“And furthermore,” Rouvad said sternly, “there will be an absolute maximum of zero infighting between you two. I am aware of your history; I was present for it. Given your respective mandates, this will not be the last ti you will find yourselves working in proximity to one another, if not actively together. Your tasks call for you to be calculating, discreet, and above all, diplomatic. If either prove unable in that regard, I will find sothing for you to do which better suits your demonstrated level of maturity. Am I understood?”
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“Of course.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She looked back and forth between them with an expression which would brook no nonsense. “Then you both know what you need to be working on. Locke, I know you’ve been out all night on assignnt; go rest up with your squad.”
“Yes, ma’am. Commander, there’s sothing else. May I speak with you in private?”
Rouvad heaved a soft sigh, regarding her speculatively. “Well, I know you and I have no personal business, and as this is the first ti I’m hearing of it, may I assu this pertains to your mission last night?”
“It—yes, ma’am, it’s an issue I beca aware of at that ti.”
“Well, Locke, that doesn’t quite qualify as infighting, but you are straining my tolerance. The Bishop has a right to be kept in the loop with regard to anything concerning our dealings with the Guild or the law. Spit it out.”
Basra folded her arms, keeping her expression neutral.
Principia did not indulge in even the slightest flicker of emotion on her own face. “Yes, ma’am. Trissiny Avelea was among the Eserite apprentices we apprehended and put to work last night.”
Rouvad raised her eyebrows, and turned to regard Basra, who shrugged.
“She either works fast, or isn’t the most quick-legged of thieves,” the Bishop said. “Both are in character, from what I understand, and I’d consider neither a failing.”
“And what did you do with Trissiny Avelea, Sergeant?” Rouvad asked quietly.
“Exactly as I did with the rest of them, Commander,” Principia replied. “No personal acknowledgnt aside from a condescending put-down when she sassed . I realize you have a low opinion of my background, but it’s prepared well to recognize when soone is under cover and not blow it.”
“You have spoken with her in person, if I’m not mistaken?” Rouvad continued, her stare boring into Principia. “She knows who and what you are?”
“She knows.”
“All right.” The Commander shook her head. “I won’t trouble to remind you of the condition of your enlistnt, since you clearly rember. Thank you for reporting this, but unless she appears to be in so danger, it’s not your concern or ours. And likely not even then. Hands of Avei are ant to be more resilient and adaptive than soldiers in general.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Principia glanced rapidly back and forth between them. “Commander, do I take this to an you were already aware she was among the Guild?”
“Of course we were, Locke,” Rouvad said sardonically. “I am the mortal leader of this faith, and the Bishop is our official point of connection to the Church and the other cults. General Avelea does not go charging off to do whatever she likes without notifying her chain of command. I can only assu that results from Abbess Narnasia’s upbringing. It clearly isn’t genetic. Is that all, Locke?”
“What is she doing?”
“As soon as that is any concern of yours, Locke,” Rouvad said in a tone of quiet warning, “she’ll inform you. If there is nothing else, you have your orders. Dismissed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Principia saluted her, then turned and did the sa to Basra. “Welco ho, your Grace.”
“Why, thank you, Sergeant Locke,” Basra said with a pleasant little smile.
Commander Rouvad heaved a sigh.
There were multiple ways in and out of the Thieves’ Guild headquarters, unsurprisingly. The first thing all who applied for an apprenticeship learned was that grubby apprentices were not to be found trooping through the Imperial Casino. On this night, the five bedraggled youths coming ho as dawn was breaking chose a servant’s access in a side alley, and thus earned themselves another loud lecture to the effect that grubby apprentices were not to troop through the casino’s kitchens, either.
They did their best to ignore the stares of fellow apprentices and knowing grins of full Guild mbers as they passed through the underground corridors to the Guild proper. Fortunately, it was the best ti of day for that, with most of those keeping normal business hours not about yet and most of the night crowd having turned in. The Thieves’ Guild never truly slept, though, and even apprentices weren’t kept to any schedule but their own. No matter what ti of day one chose to straggle in, reeking, sweaty, and exhausted, there was certain to be an audience of so kind.
In this case, perhaps the worst one possible.
“What the hell happened to you losers?” Style demanded as soon as they’d descended the stairs into the central pit, planting fists on her hips to stare incredulously at them. “You look like you’ve been mucking out a stable.”
“We fought a dragon,” Tallie said challengingly.
“And then we rescued a princess!” Darius added.
“And then we mucked out a stable,” Jasmine said wearily.
“Hn. Coulda been a lot worse, I guess,” she said, folding her brawny arms. Today’s outfit was so kind of elaborate faux-clerical robe, embroidered with stylized animals along the hem and cuffs in a manner that resembled plains elf decoration. It was one of the more effeminate things she’d worn in recent mory, but sohow the burly enforcer managed to make the outfit seem martial. “If you didn’t turn up by tonight I was gonna go rattle Sweet’s cage to get you back from the Avenists.”
“Oh,” Tallie said, her shoulders slumping. “So…you know about last night.”
“Heard the news straight from Pick himself,” she said grimly. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. You kids are just about the rankest fucking amateurs we have in this joint; nobody would expect you to know how to pull off an escape from a smoke-bombed room. Did any of you even think to check your exits before setting up in there?”
They glanced uncertainly at each other.
“Uh huh,” Style said sourly. “And naturally, Pick didn’t bother to show you that trick, or ask if you knew it. That on top of dragging a bunch of apprentices into that and then ditching them for the Legion. Just when I thought that little fuckhead couldn’t possibly climb higher up my shit list, he found a way. Oy, what the hell is this?” Her piercing gaze fixed on Rasha, who took a nervous step backward in response, and she scowled heavily. “No, you may not have a pet.”
“This is Rasha,” Tallie explained. “He’s new.”
“New, my exquisitely sculpted ass. I know every apprentice studying here.”
“New,” Jasmine explained, “as in, literally just arrived and had a al when we found out about the job. He doesn’t have a bunk yet.”
“Are you kidding ?” she demanded, brows lowering still further. “You an to say this scrawny little shrimp set foot in my Guild and literally the first thing he did, even before finding a place to kip, was get his ass to work?”
She took two long strides forward, into the middle of their group, causing Tallie and Darius to peel away in alarm; Rasha tried to backpedal away from the oncoming enforcer, but was stopped by Jasmine and Ross, who held their ground right behind him. Style bent forward to clap him on the shoulder so hard his knees buckled, and grinned broadly.
“You, shorty, have got a future. I’m gonna be watching you with great interest.”
“Stop,” Rasha growled, “calling. . Small.”
It only occurred to him belatedly that snarling like a stray dog at soone who was not only highly-ranked in the Guild but clearly physically capable of breaking him in half wasn’t the wisest thing he had ever done, even after the events of the last day.
Style’s grin faded, replaced by a more pensive expression which seed oddly out of place on her bluff features.
“Kid,” she said seriously, “you’re small. That’s not an insult, it’s a simple fact, and a pretty fucking obvious one. You’re here to learn to be a thief; being small is all kinds of useful if you learn how to use it—which you had better get your ass to work doing. Anybody who rags on you for your stature has shit between their ears, and when it starts to spill out their mouths, the correct thing to do is walk the fuck away and talk to soone less disgusting.”
Style stepped back, dragging a speculative stare across them, then wrinkled her nose. “All right…Rasha, was it? I know you’re half-dead on your feet, but you’re new, so you get the speech. Everyone gets the speech; if I have to repeat the speech to you, it’ll be while going about my daily tasks wearing your ass as a boot. So long as you’re staying in my apprentice barracks, you will be a model fucking citizen. You will respect the persons, the privacy, and the possessions of your fellow apprentices. You don’t steal anybody’s shit or ss with it at all, you don’t force any kind of attention on anybody who doesn’t want it, and you do not test the limits to see how far you can push the rules. The line is drawn wherever I fucking feel like drawing it on a given day, and if I think you’re probing at , I’ll smack the stupid out of you on the spot. Also, the barracks is to remain spotlessly clean—by which I an, if I happen to pass through and am in any way dissatisfied with its condition, I will kick the shit out of each and every person residing therein, either sequentially or concurrently, depending on how much ti I happen to have for apprentice bullshit that day. Simple solution is you keep your own area clean with regular attention, and if you spot sothing needs cleaning, you do it instead of waiting for others to. Eserion’s service attracts selfish people by nature; by the ti you graduate to full Guild mbership, you will demonstrate, among other things, that you can respect your fellow thieves, your Guild, and its facilities. Any questions?”
“I grew up on ships,” Rasha said, folding his arms. “Clean and tidy I can do.”
“Good.” Style nodded once. “Now, all of you. I can clearly see you’re exhausted, but on the roster of things about which I give a shit, that is substantially below the condition and the sll of you. You will all go wash yourselves and your clothes before soiling my lovely barracks with your reeking carcasses. Rasha, your fellow miscreants will conduct you to the facilities, show you where everything is and how to work it. Then, just pick whatever bunk isn’t occupied and help your goddamn self. Clear?”
“It’s a little excessive, isn’t it?” Jasmine noted. “I an, my last roommate liked to curse like a sailor, too, but she worked it into conversation. Organically. You seem to be trying too hard.”
“Uh…” Darius stared at her, wide-eyed. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get a rise outta ,” Style said dryly. “Because she was placed here by the gods specifically to be a thorn in my ass. Tell you what, Jasmine, I’m gonna refrain from clocking you because I find it a very positive developnt that you’re already picking up the habit of fighting with words instead of fists. Frankly, when you first showed up here, I didn’t think you had the necessary ntal capacity. Now, either you learn quickly what fights are and are not worth picking, or you’ll end up picking your teeth out of the floorboards.”
“Uh, the floor’s stone,” Tallie said helpfully.
Style grinned broadly. “Yeah. That is what makes it an impressive party trick. Go get cleaned up, junior fuckups. You have a whole new day in which to make asses of yourselves ahead.”
The rest of the squad, including Casey, were in their bunks and apparently fully inert by the ti Principia returned to the barracks. Nobody was even snoring, rry having rolled onto her side already, which based on experience ant she’d been out for a while now. The arcane stove was active, but at its lowest setting, having very little work to do against the unseasonable warmth. She paused in the central aisle between beds to glance around at the others with a small smile, then set about unbuckling her armor.
Nandi’s blonde head appeared over the edge of the bunk above her own. “Anything interesting?” she asked in a bare whisper, soft enough the humans present would probably not have heard even had they been awake.
Principia shook her head, replying in the sa tone. “In addition to a handful of Eserite guppies, the Legion seized so kind of experintal magical weapons, which are now our mission. I’m to figure out what makes ’em hum, while the squad tracks where they ca from. And,” she added sourly, “we will be working parallel to our esteed Bishop on this. She’s going to start from the top while we work from the bottom.”
“Hmm.” Nandi blinked languidly. She did not appear tired, which was no surprise. The Legions fed its soldiers well; both elves had enough energy stored in their auras to go for days without needing to rest, not that they tried to push it as a rule. “A matched set of risks and opportunities, that.”
“It occurred to , yes.”
“Any notion where to start looking?”
“That is the problem,” Principia said with a sigh as she stowed away her armor and peeled off her underthings, reaching for her sleeping shift. The others had doubtless needed to wash up before getting into bunks; elves did not sweat much, and she found her own condition satisfactorily sanitary. “I’ve positioned myself rather poorly for this, Nandi. Keeping my distance from the Guild has left with few useful contacts in the arms trade, especially here in Tiraas. I can’t go to Darling, because that’s what Syrinx is doing, and apart from not wanting to cross paths with her, I don’t want to tip him off that…well, any of it. Darling loves to be useful, but he files away every tidbit for future leverage, and I don’t need him planting any levers under my bum.”
“Well,” Nandi suggested, smiling as Principia climbed into her bunk, “we did just make so very junior acquaintances in the Guild, did we not? They probably don’t think the best of you right now, but surely a few of that handful were perceptive enough to see the trouble your decision kept them out of.”
“Guild apprentices won’t know anything useful that we could pursue,” she said dismissively, “aside from the very basics of who they were working for, and I’ll tie my ears in a bow if the Guild hadn’t covered those tracks before they even learned of this. Besides… There could be complications if the High Commander gets word of trying to approach that particular group of apprentices.”
“One of them, anyway.”
Principia sighed. “Y’know, I never wondered, before, whether you were in the loop about that. Sohow, it surprises not in the least.”
“I shall take that as a complint.” Nandi was now staring up at the ceiling, still speaking in he tiniest of whispers, which Principia had no trouble hearing in the quiet cabin. “Well. As any hunter could tell you, the solution is obvious. If we cannot stalk our quarry, we must entice it to co to us.”
“Go to sleep, Shahai. I’ll brief the squad in full later today.”
Nandi smiled serenely up at the ceiling. “Yes, ma’am.”
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