“What’s to keep him from betraying me and telling the provost he’s going to let me in? Can’t he just set me up?”
“An oath. You can see for yourself how highly he values them, so the god won’t let him turn you in.”
Valia? There was only one person Tailyn could ask for advice.
Go for it. If something happens, I’ll get you out.
But as soon as Ronan heard what he was supposed to do, he laughed in the face of his enemy. The academy’s doors had closed to him the moment he let a nameless in. By personal order of the provost, his access had been revoked, and stepping one foot through the gate would have gotten him killed with ancient magic. The same went for Tailyn. With no difference between dying at the hands of Tailyn and the hands of the god, the former was better because he would at least be able to laugh on his way out.
“You know, Ronan, you don’t have to die permanently.” Tailyn had suddenly found a new way to come to an agreement. “You won’t have the same attributes you’re working with right now, but you’ll be alive. If you tell me about the portal and the god kills you, I can bring you back. You’ll head home to your father alive and well to start life over. I swear it!”
A silence fell over the room. Everyone stared at Tailyn as if at an incarnation of the god, only nobody shouted that it was impossible. A snow-white glow had bathed him to confirm his words.
But Tailyn didn’t have time to enjoy the moment. Valanil finally had something to say.
Group renamed. New name: Tailyn, it’s bad. We can’t get out, so you’re on your own. They’re going to torture us.
The shocker took a tour of the bound bodies, sending them off for another ten minutes of sleep. After ensuring that nobody was faking it by checking for the unconscious marker in their settings, Tailyn pulled out his intercom. It was time to ask for help.
Before long, Tailyn was staring at a man’s stern face.
“What do you need, imperial outcast? You have one minute.” Sadil gestured around at the papers on his desk to show how little interest he had in the conversation.
“I...” Tailyn was initially taken aback, thinking Forian might have made a mistake with the number. But Forian didn’t make mistakes. “The north never forgets their own!”
Finally, Sadil forgot about the papers and peered closely at the boy.
“Shut up and listen. I recognize the wall behind you, so stay right where you are—I’ll be there in half an hour. You’re going to have to trust me, Tailyn Vlashich. And get your logs ready. You’re not getting anything from me without them...”
Chapter 16
“ENOUGH GAMES, BOY! Your logs. Now!” Sadil’s ominous bark turned the two aides he brought with him white with fear, not to mention the prisoners bound hand and foot. Even Ronan, his upbringing having taught him to handle emotional onslaughts with ease, did his best to look smaller. With Sadil’s rage the stuff of legend, nobody wanted to get in his way.
Nobody, that is, except the target of the man’s anger, who stood firmly in place. Sure, shivers ran down Tailyn’s back, and he was terrified to his core, but the boy wasn’t about to break. He was no longer the scared boy from the god-forsaken village at the edge of the empire. The head of Mean Truk, it was his responsibility to look the part.
“I didn’t promise you my logs,” Tailyn repeated as he stared evenly into the eyes of the enraged old man. “I’m not planning on giving them to you, either. You help or you leave, and I figure things out with Forian myself.”
There was a pause. The silent prisoners swept nervous glances back and forth between Tailyn and Sadil. Ready to take on the upstart kid at the first order, the investigators with Sadil placed hands on their named weapons, though Sadil just spent a while doing his best to burn a hole through Tailyn. Suddenly, he smiled.
“Okay, you passed the test. There’s a reason Forian’s with you—that spine of yours is made of steel. Obviously, you’re still young, but that will pass with time. First, untie Madame Lazul.”
Tailyn wanted to protest that the owner of the public house would raise the alarm, though he said nothing. Entrusting himself to Forian’s grandfather was his only option. And to the boy’s surprise, the disheveled woman didn’t scream, wave her arms around, or demand justice. Instead, she brushed down her dress, pulled back her hair, and glanced over inquisitively at Sadil.
“You know what to do. I’ll take care of the expenses,” the security chief replied, and an awfully familiar stiletto appeared in Madame Lazul’s hand. It was the same as the one Valanil had—a named weapon given to Crobar graduates.
“Sorry, girls, but it’s better this way for everyone. Go to sleep...”
Tailyn practically choked in horror when the stiletto blade slid easily into the head of the girl closest to Lazul. The rest didn’t even have time to realize what was going on before they shared her fate.
“This is really going to cost you, Sadil,” Lazul said. “They were the best.”
“Make sure we’re not interrupted and get us a way out,” the old man replied. Madame Lazul left the room as Sadil set down in a chair and turned back to Tailyn.
“What do you need Ronan for? And what did Forian get himself into?”
The story wasn’t a long one, though it tickled Sadil pink with the god’s incredible imagination. Still, Tailyn’s plan seemed naïve to the old man.
“The Carlians can’t kill Forian. Are you sure resurrecting him again will work? Have you tried it yet? He isn’t human, after all; he’s resurrected noa. And only the god knows how noa will react to being called back a second time. What if he’s resurrected but turned into some kind of monster? No, we can’t take the risk.”
Sadil wasn’t as concerned with Forian, per se, as he was with his status. The Tarn family had never had a priest, and he was therefore going to do everything he could to hold onto the title. With the possibility out there that resurrecting Forian for a second time would rob him of the priesthood, they couldn’t let that happen.
“They’re being held in the Carlian palace,” Tailyn said again.
“There’s nothing wrong with my memory,” the old men said. “First, take Ronan and head to the manor. We can’t stay here without raising questions. Madame, we’ll need cover.”
That last phrase was addressed to the mistress of the establishment, as she’d just reappeared in the doorway.
“There’s a wagon waiting by the back entrance. I calmed the girls down—nobody saw you, and we’ll take care of the bodies. By the way, I had to kill a dancer who brought in good money.”
“We’ll cover it,” Sadil said with a nod. “The usual plan.”
“You were never here, and I don’t even know who you are,” the madame said with a smile before turning to glance seriously at Tailyn. “Young man, I must inform you that you won’t be stepping foot in my establishment again until you turn eighteen. And that’s not up for discussion. Next time, think before you decide where to have your little adventures. Okay, get out of here! There’s cleaning to do.”
Ronan tried to threaten the group, only nobody listened to him. A covered wagon was waiting by the back entrance exactly as the mistress had described, the curtain that hung all the way to the ground hiding the people from inquisitive eyes. With one eye fixed on Raptor, Tailyn made sure there was nobody suspicious within fifty-five meters. Nobody cared what happened in a public house. Perhaps, it was some married man off on a tryst. And what was the point of uncovering him? Everyone had their sins.
After jerking around in an attempt to grab the attention of random passers-by from the wagon, Ronan had to be put to sleep with the shocker. The operation was repeated several times before they got to the residence Sadil was taking them to. It wasn’t anywhere near the city center. Once they got there, Tailyn could only snort—it was the same manor Forian had once called home.
“Master,” said Patrick, the butler and manager. His greeting was addressed at Sadil, which told the boy all he needed to know about who was in charge of t
he property.
“Everything ready?” Sadil asked after having Ronan taken somewhere in the house.
“Yes, Master. Everything is sold, the sale agreement is complete, and we’re just waiting for you.”
“Excellent. Tailyn, you have three hours to extract Forian. I’ll spend that time taking care of Ronan and everything else. Get a move on it!”
“Me?” the boy asked in shock.
“I can’t—that would trigger conflict between the academy and the empire. And there isn’t enough time to find Crobar hierarchs before Forian is tortured to death, so that just leaves you. You’ve been inside their palace. You can talk with Valanil. Use whatever means you find necessary to free my nephew, up to and including destroying the Carlians. Is that understood, or do I have to repeat myself?”
“Yes, it’s just...” Tailyn trailed off when he saw Sadil’s eyes. The old man wasn’t joking when he sent the boy to kill. “Forian said you would help.”
“And this is me helping. You need to get into the academy to complete your mission, and you need Ronan for that. But with your weak stomach, you can’t do anything about him.”
“You mean to tell me there’s only one way into the academy?” Tailyn asked dubiously. “There have to be secret passageways, and you’re the head of security. You should know about them!”
“The only accessible entrance is the main gate. Besides that, there’s the provost’s personal teleport and, as I found out recently, a nameless teleport. That’s all. While the former teleport isn’t available to you, Ronan will help with the latter. And that’s your only way in without being killed.”
“What about an isolation cage?” Tailyn asked. His heart suddenly began pounding as Sadil frowned. It wasn’t rage on his face, however—the idea was a good one.
“Isolation cages completely block whoever’s inside them,” the old man said thoughtfully. “No magic works on them, either, including ancient magic. Theoretically, and I mean theoretically, the gate would let you through. The only question is who would bring the cage in... Anyway, we’re wasting time, and Forian is already enjoying his time visiting the Carlians. Once you’re back with my grandson, we’ll talk. Get to it!”
Sadil made it crystal clear that he had no intention of continuing the conversation. Patrick stepped over to Tailyn and gestured toward the gate, showing him out of the Tarn residence. With the Lutar Shars disguise back in place, the plain boy stepped out into the street, merging right into the flow of people. Nobody paid any attention to the academy student. There were plenty of yellowbellies, as they were called because of their mantle color, wandering around, and one more or less didn’t make a difference. That played right into Tailyn’s hands. Half an hour of pushing and shoving later, he got to Duke Carlian’s palace.
The gate was closed, the clan flag lowered—the master was out. A couple servants worked halfheartedly in a nearby park. The Carlian palace appeared flawless, not needing much work to maintain its perfect condition.
Security system detected.
Would you like to hack it?
Tailyn thought to himself. His plan for getting in was as simple as a gold coin: disguise himself as Ronan and demand an audience claiming he had news from his father. As long as the duke wasn’t home, nobody would see the viceroy’s son, and that would give him time to look for his mentors. The only problem was all the issues with his plan. There was no telling what the Carlians would think of Ronan showing up alone. Would they suspect something? But that message gave him another way in, and Tailyn was giving it some serious thought. First, he needed information.
Hey, Valia, what level protection does the Carlian palace have?
After a quick conversation with his betrothed, Tailyn wanted to melt into the ground in shame. Instead of immediately asking her how to get into her old home, he’d been off making things up as he went along. His current hacking value made breaking into the palace defenses a problem—he wasn’t going to be able to reach the central control unit, and the system would immediately notice the loss of the gate. Valia’s ancestors had installed the best available security system to protect their property.
Happily, as with any device, there was a way around it: personal use passwords that let people leave the palace in secret. Valia had often run away to enjoy the city streets without her retinue of hangers-on, nannies, and guards. Needless to say, his father was aware of her little adventures, even encouraging them. The future duchess needed to learn how to take responsibility for her actions.
Code accepted. Access granted.
Tailyn had to go all the way around the palace in search of a small and inconspicuous gate hidden in a hedge. There were no guards or bystanders. After just activating the secret panel and entering nine digits, the boy heard a click as the gate opened. He ducked inside, the gate closed, and the security system was back online.
The pathway was shielded by bushes and led almost all the way to the palace itself. Regardless of how deserted it had seemed, there were actually plenty of people in the residence. Servants prepared for the duke’s reception by clearing fallen leaves and trimming bushes, none of them visible from the street. With work in full swing, nobody noticed the lone shadow slipping by. The security system hadn’t gone off, so he had a right to be there.
Tailyn had almost gotten to the palace when he stopped to check Raptor. From where he was standing, nearly the entire palace was visible with the exception of a few far corridors. But even that was enough for the device to highlight two dots standing in very different places. One, the indicator Valanil, was in the main hall and surrounded by about a dozen people. The other—Forian—was trapped in the basement of an annex. With fewer people there, the fact that they were all in separate spaces told Tailyn they were actually in jail cells.
A red dot approached Valanil, and the herbalist’s frame began to flutter as someone tried to break through her personal shield. The Carlians were whittling away her defenses in preparation for a meeting with the duke. While he wanted to jump in and help her, Tailyn stopped himself in time. Forian was more important.
The door leading to the annex was locked. Oddly enough, it was as simple a lock as could be, not the kind that device control could help with. Raptor told the boy there were no other ways in, so he was forced to take a risk. Tailyn glanced around. With nobody looking in his direction, he pulled out a flask of acid and poured it over the metal lock. Acrid smoke poured up, and something clicked a few seconds later. The door was open. Tailyn slipped inside.
The path down to the basement was guarded by a clearly bored man sitting at a table. While he didn’t dare sleep on the job, he wasn’t in much of a hurry to do everything he was supposed to do—what was the point of patrolling the cells when the prisoners were all bound hand and foot and hanging from the ceiling?
Tailyn spent a while trying to figure out a way to justify his appearance, only nothing came to mind. Cursing, he activated Valkyrie. The guard wasn’t wearing a complete outfit, and that meant the boy couldn’t block him without him raising the alarm. And that wasn’t an option.
“Who are you?” The prison guard had just enough time to leap up before the metal bolt buried itself in his head. To his surprise, Tailyn found that he wasn’t prepared to kill an unsuspecting target. He needed some kind of resistance or aggression. Pulling the set of keys off the wall, he headed downstairs, having found nothing of value in the room.
Forian was looking like a butterfly in a cocoon off in the farthest cell, having been tightly wrapped up with ropes. Of course, the same was true of all the other prisoners the Carlian clan was holding. Having developed an effective approach, they applied it to everybody: take their clothing and make sure they couldn’t use cards. Tailyn took a closer look at the other prisoners, none of which Valia knew. A couple mages, some warriors, a few numericals. The mages weren’t even that low—both were at level fourteen. Presumably, they each had their own backstory, and maybe more than one, but Tailyn wasn’t looking to hear them. All he had
time for was one cell. It was the one the Mean Truk treasurer was hanging upside-down in.
To get the man down, Tailyn had to fly up, the hook and chain, as it turned out, secured by yet another lock. A quick swipe of his knife got rid of the ropes holding the prisoner. There was a heavy groan. Emptying half his mana, Tailyn tried to compensate for Forian’s overwhelmed level two regeneration by healing him, as the mage’s body was covered in bruises, abrasions, and lacerations. Even a few bones were broken. Apparently, one of the Carlians made a hobby out of torturing people but wasn’t yet very good at it.
Deciding he needed to bring in the cavalry, Tailyn pulled out a lesser regeneration potion. He held open Forian’s mouth, dumped in the contents, and waited until his treasurer’s eyes regained recognition of the world around them. The man spent a while staring unbelievingly at the boy. Apparently, Tailyn wasn’t who he’d been expecting to see, though it only took him a couple minutes to accept what was going on. He swallowed hard to clear his throat before speaking.
Isr Kale's Journal (The Alchemist Book #4): LitRPG Series Page 24
