am-books Chapter 67 - Allies
Chapter 67 - Allies
The next day, while Respected Jei worked on getting an appointment with Archmage Luspire, Mirian went to see if she could reclaim an old new friendship. She headed over to the lakeview district to an apartment surprisingly close to Xipuatl's place, and knocked on the door of Nicolus Sacristar.
Naturally, it was Sire Nurea who answered, left hand still lingering on the door knob, right hand casually close to her belt.
Mirian gave the honorary bow to her and said, "Hi. Do you know who I am yet?"
"Yes," said Nurea, stone-faced.
"Great! Can I talk to Nicolus about—"
"No." She started to shut the door.
Mirian stuck her foot inside slightly. "Oh come on, give me more than five seconds! You know, last time you approached me. Listen, I can help House Sacristar."
Nurea looked unimpressed. "I doubt that," she said, and started putting pressure on the door while Mirian kept her foot there.
The conversation hadn't gone at all like she'd planned. Both Nurea and Nicolus were clever about gaining social advantages, negotiating deals, and getting people to help their interests, so she'd thought that was the tactic she needed to lead with. Mirian realized she'd miscalculated, though. That might work on Nicolus, but Sire Nurea prioritized one thing above all else: her ward's safety. For her, the other stuff was just a consequence of that primary motivation. "I can save Nicolus's life," she said.
That got Nurea to stop. "Are you threatening us?"
"What? No! Gods, would you stop being so paranoid for once? Look, whatever you want to believe about how I got it, I have knowledge of the future. Knowledge of several futures, at this point—so I know you. I know Nicolus. I'm his classmate, not some Palamas baron. We were study partners. We read alchemistry books in the library together. He got grease on the pages."
Nurea was still glaring at her, but she'd stopped pushing on the door, and her hand wasn't so close to her belt anymore. That was progress.
"Look, Akana Praediar's planning some sort of war. You won't learn about it until Nicolus's uncle off in Akana Praediar sends a letter on the night of the 20th. That's your first piece of information. For free. Because I care about Nicolus."
"He's never mentioned you."
"Because he doesn't know me yet. But I know how the war goes. I know where it's safe, and where it's not." She didn't mention, nowhere is safe, because then Nurea would really not listen.
Nurea looked her over, like she was a fancy painting she was assessing the value of. "What do you get in return?"
"If I stop the attack, my friends don't die. You're not the only one protecting someone."
That seemed to finally get through to Nurea. Mirian saw it in the way her gaze softened. She wasn't seeing Mirian as her opponent anymore. "Alright. We'll talk. Do you like tea?"
"Yes, please. Something floral."
Sire Nurea, it turned out, had a cabinet full of exotic teas, most of which Mirian had never heard of. Well, everyone needed hobbies, didn't they? While something called 'velvet winter's sorrow' brewed, they talked.
"Nicolus is out drinking, then?" Mirian asked.
"Of course," she said with a sigh.
"Doesn't he have registration today? No, wait—I bet I know. There's some weird bureaucratic process where you can submit registration early by proxy, but only if you fill out four different forms that each cost a hunk of silver to obtain."
"So you do know me," Nurea muttered. Louder, she said, "There's only three forms involved, but you're not likely to get the last one approved unless your family donates substantial amounts to the Academy. Anyways, I've told Nicolus to hurry back. He needs to hear whatever you have to say."
"Oh?"
"You spend five years at this place tutoring someone in magic and you pick up a thing or two." She did not elaborate on the spell mechanism she'd used.
They were sitting at an ivory-topped table by the window sipping the tea when Nicolus burst in. The tea tasted vaguely minty, but with lavender notes and some other flavor that Mirian couldn't quite place. She turned as the door opened.
"Nur, this better be good because I was winning five-one in Juggler's Jig and I'd—oh. You. I know you. You're that weirdo who does calculus for fun." Nicolus looked at Nurea, made a face, then held up a finger. "Nope, don't say it. That was undiplomatic, which is a weird word. Sounds like someone didn't get a diploma. Sorry, you're that awkward girl who perseveres in class and is really c... uh...."
"How much have you had to drink?"
"Two pints." When Nurea glared at him, Nicolus admitted, "Okay, four. Maybe six. Look, this was our big celebration, no one looks for a forbidden party in the morning."
"And I did intend to honor your day off, but plans change. This is Mirian," Nurea said.
Nicolus froze. "Ohhhhh shit. Wait, you're Mirian? You killed a guy."
"Nicolus."
"I'll help you," Nicolus said. "Not altruistically. I'm already way too jaded for that—nasty part of studying political economy is it does that to you—but because I want to have a hand in how the world turns. So in exchange, I want in."
"You want... in?"
"Yeah. Whatever project you end up building."
"I don't know what I'm building," Mirian said.
"If what you've told me is true, you've got a lot of time to figure that out. Me, I guess I won't remember saying all this. But you will. And every person you talk to will give you this small piece of themselves and their ideas. You get to carry those pieces of people into the future. Gather enough pieces, and you'll assemble something the rest of us can only dream of."
Mirian scrutinized him, and this time she saw more than just a handsome young man, and more than an easygoing study partner. She felt... different about him, in a way she didn't fully understand. "You know, Nicolus, you're a lot smarter than you pretend to be."
Nicolus gave her that big goofy smile of his. Mirian liked that smile. It was so genuine. "Don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to maintain. So you'll do it?"
"I'll do what I can. You're in." She reached out her hand, and they shook on it. Briefly, she thought again of the last time their hands had clasped. The world had been ending. This time, she felt like it was a beginning. She'd found a second person who understood—really understood—the implications of the time loop.
"Great. I'll start drafting a letter to Uncle Alexus tonight. And I'll give some thought into how to better facilitate our partnership in the future. Because... we're all going to die again, aren't we?"
Mirian took a deep breath in. "We are. Over and over. But I won't give up. I promise."
***
The next person she needed to talk to was Valen. She still had mixed feelings about her. Valen was loyal, but something of a wild card. She was interesting, but annoying. And because of the way she felt about Mirian, she was easy to manipulate. But she also knew she was being manipulated, and seemed to revel in it. For all that Mirian understood the girl, she was still alien to her.
Mirian cast a disguise spell before meeting up with her, then used the code-phrase to identify herself that Valen had insisted they use. It all seemed a bit ridiculous, but Valen was enjoying her role as spymaster.
"How's it been going?" Mirian asked as they walked through the north gardens by the Myrvite Studies building. They could hear the calls of the wyverns in their pens, which Mirian remembered Valen enjoyed listening to.
Valen rolled her eyes. "It's a mess. No one knows what's going on, but that doesn't stop them from loudly proclaiming what they think as objective fact. Mayor Wolden's definitely out, though. Archmage Luspire doesn't know if he should cancel classes or not. For all the people who've heard that you're at the center of this, plenty have no idea. They've heard that it's Professor Cassius who's time traveling, or think you're not a student at all, but just pretending to be one. You got to interrogate an actual Akanan spy?"
"Yeah."
"So envious."
"I learned how they're relaying messages. Magistrate Ada is going to have people keeping an eye on the derelict tower north of town, but the more eyes we have looking for people moving out of town, the better. There's definitely a second cell, and the Impostor is a Baracueli. Is there a Deeps unit here in Torrviol?"
"You don't know that already?"
Mirian glared at her.
"Fine. I don't know either."
"Can you... ask your dad?" Valen hadn't said all that much about her father, beyond his exploits as a spy.
"I can, but I don't think he'll say much. And I'll have to dig him up from the cemetery in Cairnmouth first."
Mirian grimaced. "Eugh. Don't think you mentioned that before. Sorry."
Valen shrugged. "Eh. I've had time to get over it. If there is a Deeps unit here, there would be at least four of them. But there's too many Akanan spies for that. Unless they all managed to be turn-coats, which I really doubt. But maybe there's a Syndicate presence. They don't care all that much for nationalities."
"You don't know that already?"
Valen rolled her eyes again, which was her favorite pastime. "I'll look into it. Also, I sent a letter to my brother in Fort Aegrimare like you asked. It's a fort, though. There's not going to be suspicious activity that isn't related to the infantry hiding all the drinking and gambling they're secretly doing."
"Excellent," Mirian said. Then she raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"
She could see Valen's haughty attitude draining out of her, replaced by wide-eyed anticipation. "Yes," she whispered.
Mirian leaned over and they kissed, just for a moment. It was gentle, and tantalizing. When they were done, she wanted more, and she could tell Valen did too. But she stopped, and stepped away from her.
Valen stayed there a moment, eyes closed, then said, "Ohhh, you're evil, you know that? Alright, I'll see you around."
As she watched Valen go, she still didn't know what to think about it. It still felt weird to have power over someone, but that was exactly what Valen had said she enjoyed when they'd mapped out their deal. She had to give her credit: she knew what she liked, and unlike Mirian, she didn't seem to carry any self-doubt with her.
She thought of Nicolus. What am I building? she wondered. She realized that some part of her still thought there might be a 'normal' after this. That when it was all over, she would graduate, and her family would cheer as she walked across the stage. Then she'd settle down in a cozy artifice shop and create a nice, subdued life. Just a dream, she thought. She let her disguise spell fade away, flecks of light breaking off her like leaves falling, and headed back into Torrviol.
For now, she would keep her focus here. Somehow, fate has conspired to make the town a fulcrum, where armies and spies clashed over a relic of the Gods. And whatever future she was building, she wanted to keep this second home of hers safe.