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No Stone Unturned

Page 15

by Frank Morin


  Chapter 19

  "The whole thing is a giant lie," Connor said.

  Ailsa did not immediately respond, but leaned back in her overstuffed chair in her office. Connor had rushed back to the Sculpture House as soon as he'd dismissed his army.

  "Well?" Connor asked, leaning forward in the uncomfortable chair facing her desk.

  "You're absolutely sure?"

  "Of course we're not absolutely sure. That's why I'm here. We need to figure out how to be absolutely sure. This could change everything."

  Ailsa nodded, then walked around her desk and went to the closed door. Opening it, she stuck her head through. "Gisela, I need you."

  She returned to her seat behind the large desk just as Gisela entered the room.

  "What can I doing for you?" Gisela asked. Her white-blond hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail. That was the first time Connor had seen her wear her hair that way, and it highlighted her high cheekbones and made her look even more foreign.

  "Close the door," Ailsa said, then added, "Connor, tell her what you just told me."

  That was surprising. Connor trusted Gisela, mostly, but she wasn't privy to the full truth. This was the most potentially deadly truth he had ever learned.

  "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

  Ailsa nodded. "But perhaps it's time for Gisela to share some information with you first so you understand her position."

  Now it was Gisela's turn to look surprised. Her always-pale face turned paler still. She shook her head. "I am not thinking this is good idea."

  "You owe me some information," Connor said, intrigued by her reaction. "The day we defeated Hector, you said you had a secret, and that you would tell me."

  Gisela gave him a disgusted look. "No is fair reminding girl of truth shared in moment of distress."

  "That's a ridiculous argument."

  "Not if it is working."

  Ailsa said, "Gisela, this information is too important. It's time to merge our efforts. We finally might have some actionable intelligence."

  "Very well." Gisela straightened to her full height, as if coming to attention. "I am secret embassy from Arishat."

  "I thought you were from Althing." Had another friend been lying to him all along?

  "Of course I am," Gisela snapped. "But Althing is being leader of Arishat. And Arishat League is wanting information about the situation in Obrion before war is starting."

  "Are you telling me you're a spy?" He did love it when friends had such amazing secrets, though.

  Ailsa's expression turned pained. "Spy is such an ugly word, don't you think?"

  "Are you a spy too?" Connor asked his aunt.

  She shook her head. "I am a patriot. I love this country and I want it to be great. More importantly I want it to be free from tyrants who wish to enslave us." She spoke calmly, but her emerald eyes glittered with fervor.

  Connor had felt similar feelings during the battles around Alasdair as his loyalties were challenged. If anything, he had begun questioning the status quo more of late. What if Jean's findings could be proven true? He didn't think he could remain loyal to a nation that enslaved its own people and lied about such important truths as patronage. He'd have to doubt the rightness of the looming war and would question everything about what it meant to live in Obrion.

  "What does that mean?" he asked.

  Ailsa leaned forward. "I have established a network of like-minded individuals across the nation, all dedicated to gathering intelligence to help determine the truth and to establish a plan of action. This nation is on the brink of an historic moment, Connor, a rare opportunity. The Tallan Wars were another such time. Today we are again entering a time when nations will be tested, loyalties will be tried, and the future will be determined, either for good or ill."

  "I am in agreeing with you," Gisela said. "That is why I am here."

  "Gisela's mother was my first international contact," Ailsa said. "During our time here as students, we recognized that we had to begin making preparations, because change is coming."

  Connor could hardly believe it. His aunt was the mastermind of a secret association of international spies. That was one of the most awesome things he had ever heard. "Why didn't you tell me? I could help."

  "Our strength lies in the fact that so few know about us," Ailsa said. "You were helping, more than you could ever know. But at the time we thought you were going to leave, so sharing this information with you was not necessary."

  She turned to Gisela. "What Connor is going to explain is a Firetongue-level secret."

  Gisela looked shocked "I have never hearing such a one."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It's so dangerous, it could burn anyone who knows it," Ailsa explained.

  "And anyone knowing must be crazy," Gisela added.

  "As such, it must be guarded by the strictest confidence," Ailsa said. "We're going to share it with you so that you understand the gravity of the situation. But I am ordering you to retain this information private and not share it with anyone, not even your mother.

  Gisela looked more shocked than ever. "I am having no secrets from my mother."

  "In this you will," Ailsa insisted, her voice as hard as granite. "Or we cannot share it with you. Your mother holds too high a ranking position in the Arishat intelligence community. She would have to pass this on, and it would risk getting picked up by the network of spies run by Dougal or Kilian."

  That was even more interesting. "How many spy organizations are there?" Connor asked.

  Gisela shrugged. "Is unclear. The Arishat League has a central spy league. But then every nation is having their own too."

  "And of course Granadure and Obrion have their official spy agencies," Ailsa said. "But many of the high-noble houses also run individual agents. Dougal is the most notorious. That man has an extensive intelligence organization that may rival that of any of those sponsored at national levels."

  Connor had seen enough of that internal bickering, political maneuvering, and attempted assassinations within what the nobles called the Rules of Honorable Sabotage. It made sense to have spies lurking around too.

  "I really should have known about this sooner," Connor said.

  "You cannot trust anyone, my boy," Ailsa said. "There are more spies per capita at the Carraig than anywhere else in the world. The contracts and negotiations, and the ramifications of the results of the Tir-raon are too important for anyone to ignore."

  As Connor considered that, the inclusion of Padraigin in the Tir-raon took on new meaning. Was she a spy? Was Ivor a spy? He must know about the spies, because he was already taking precautions against listeners.

  Was everyone Connor knew a spy? The possibilities seemed endless and his head began to hurt. It was like entering a bakery, only to be told some of the mouth-watering pastries on the shelves were stuffed with manure instead of cream. How could he tell the difference?

  Why couldn't life be simple? Like facing a charging torc.

  "I'm going to have a thousand questions about all of this," Connor said. "But right now we need to deal with the fact that Jean found information that she feels proves that patronage is a lie and that unclaimed are part of the conspiracy."

  Gisela rushed forward and gripped his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

  "That's why I called you in here," Ailsa said. "We have long suspected the truth about this, but we've never been able to prove it either way."

  Gisela nodded. "Patronage is not being necessary anywhere but in Obrion. It is controlling the masses, but I am always wondering how it could be true."

  When she released his shoulder, he caught her hand and repeated Ailsa's warning. "Gisela, we cannot share this information with anyone. If word gets out that I shared this information, Evander will kill us all."

  Gisela looked terrified. Good.

  "You know more about Evander than most of us, don't you?" Connor asked.

  Gisela nodded. "Evander is a legend. We are not knowing how old he
is, but we are knowing he is older than anyone else, except perhaps one."

  "Which one?"

  "Stay focused," Ailsa said, "Evander has chosen to act, and chosen to share information that he has withheld for a very long time. Why this, and why now? We cannot risk acting until we better understand his motivations."

  Gisela nodded. "What are you wishing from me?"

  "I'm thinking we have not gone back far enough in our research," Ailsa said. "I want you to request from Althing that they begin an extensive search of the archives dating back to the Tallan Wars. Have them look for anything that might connect back to patronage, the Carraig, or even Evander."

  Gisela nodded again. "Such research will no doubt reaching ears of the various spying organizations."

  That made Connor nervous, but Ailsa did not look worried. She added, "By casting such a wide net, we are insulating ourselves. If some of the deep archives are discovered to contain important information, the truth can come from those historical records, not from us."

  Connor still felt nervous, but he knew enough to trust Ailsa, and they needed information. "We need to do more than that."

  Ailsa nodded. "You're already planning to discuss some of these things with your Grandurian contacts, correct?"

  Gisela looked surprised. "You are having contacts in Granadure?"

  "Of course. Doesn't everyone?" He spoke casually, and loved how surprised she looked.

  "How do you think he was planning to escape?" Ailsa asked.

  "I was thinking he was being helped by some of your people."

  Ailsa had kept that secret intact, but Gisela knew a lot. "How much have you shared with your mother about me?"

  Gisela hesitated and that spoke louder than her words. "Really? You told her about my curse?"

  "She is promising to keep your secret," Gisela said. "It is too important not to be sharing."

  Connor wanted to argue about that, but Ailsa made a soothing gesture. "The stroke's fallen, Son. I trust Gisela's mother. Let that suffice for now."

  They were definitely going to have to talk about that more later, but he didn't argue the point.

  "We'll continue our daily briefings here and discuss any new information from our various channels," Ailsa said. "Together we'll discover the truth about this mystery, then we'll know how to attack."

  "Geall on," Connor said with a wry grin.

  Smiling, the ladies joined him in thumbing their noses to accept what might prove to be their greatest challenge.

  "Now," Ailsa said, rising from her seat. "You have to make the rounds."

  Connor groaned. He wasn't looking forward to informing everyone the portions were being reduced.

  Chapter 20

  The assembly and first army training had pushed class periods back to late afternoon. Students were chattering excitedly about their army assignments, showing off their new uniforms, and striving to out-boast each other about how their generals were better. Even the students assigned to Padraigin's army had dropped their resentment and now embraced her with that much more enthusiasm, as if trying to catch up. Their destinies were now linked to hers, and there was nothing like selfish intent to make the strongest supporters.

  Connor's army tried hard to maintain their optimism, but they faced universal mocking. Despite how intriguing the masked Dawnus might be, every student possessed enough battlefield management skills to read disaster in the assignments.

  He was glad he had already met with his army. For the most part, they withstood the verbal barrage. They weren't yet rabid believers, but they hadn't given up either.

  All he had to do was figure out how to deliver on his promises, for their sake as well as his own. Cameron liked to point out that he had a flair for breaking things, but could he break an entire battlefield enough for his little army to win?

  The announcement of reduction in daily portions was met with universal grumbling, but not outright hostility as he had feared, at least not in Professor Todhar and Professor Greim's classes. Professor Todhar suggested the reduction was an opportunity to help the students better master their tap rate management, a skill that would be vital in their upcoming group battles. The bearish Professor Greim only said, "War requires sacrifice at every level. Get used to it."

  Professor Nandag wasn't nearly as gracious. The heavyset woman had decided to dislike Connor the very first day he'd arrived at the Carraig, and although her anger had waned in recent weeks, it rebounded instantly. He was used to her verbal assaults though, and weathered the storm long enough to receive her signature accepting the rounds.

  If he grew desperate, maybe he'd recruit her into his army. She could browbeat the enemy Sentries until they tongue-tied themselves into knots.

  The Striders laughed off the reduction and challenged each other to run just as far with less powder. On his way back into the inner city of the Carraig to deliver the tertiary affinity stones, he ran into Jok, who was lounging just inside the gate.

  The burly Boulder pushed off from the wall he'd been leaning against and fell into step beside Connor. "You're an idiot."

  "You're in rare good humor this morning," Connor said, glancing to make sure Jok wasn't tapping granite. The fact that Jok owed him a life debt should have made him feel pretty safe walking beside him, but that greeting made him nervous anyway.

  "Just trying to decide if saving your life when you don't even know it resolves my debt."

  "Deciding not to punch me to death doesn't really count as saving my life."

  "How about stopping some of my friends from beating you to a pulp for reducing the rations?"

  "I'd take that as a sign of friendship at least," Connor said. "But it wasn't my fault."

  Jok shrugged. "You know what they say, beat the bearer of bad news."

  "Actually, I thought you were specifically supposed to not blame the messenger for the news."

  "Depends on which side of the news you stand on."

  Connor slowed near the entrance to the grand hospital building and faced Jok. "Thank you for stopping them."

  "That wasn't a good enough reason to beat you to death." He looked like he was considering other reasons that might justify it, though.

  "You didn't meet me today just to warn me I haven't been beaten up yet, did you?"

  "Let's talk inside."

  Intrigued, Connor followed Jok into the huge building and halfway down one long, empty hall. Some idiot had decided the best place for the Healers was on the second floor, so the ground floor wasn't heavily used.

  "So why am I an idiot today?" Connor asked when Jok stopped.

  "You just can't do the smart thing, can you? Even when I set everything up for you, you manage to screw it all up."

  "Some people call it a gift," he quipped.

  Jok scowled, and with those heavy brows, he could scowl really well. "Do you really want to be Shona's slave?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "It's a simple question, Connor. We both know what she wants from you, what her father wants. You can't be stupid enough to feel happy about that."

  "Are you planning to be the first psychologist Boulder?"

  "Don't pretend you've got pedra droppings for brains."

  "What makes you so concerned?" Connor asked. "There's not much I can do about Shona right now, is there?"

  "You are such a stupid linn," Jok exclaimed, punching Connor in the shoulder and knocking him sprawling.

  "Some day you'll have to teach me punch code," Connor groaned.

  "What?"

  Connor raised a hand to forestall getting hit again. "Just try explaining your point without using your fists. I can't translate fast enough." Whatever was riling Jok up had overwhelmed his limited self-control.

  Jok glared. "You think it was easy to orchestrate that dome collapse?"

  "That was you?" Connor exclaimed, climbing back to his feet to face Jok. "You nearly killed a bunch of people."

  Jok made a dismissive gesture. "No one died."

  "
They could have."

  "Not if you'd used all your powers!"

  The hall was still empty, but how far would that shout echo?

  "We had an agreement that you'd keep my secret," Connor said softly. "That includes not shouting so loud everyone in the Carraig can hear it."

  "Like I said, I've got your back," Jok said, moderating his voice. "Why didn't you use all your powers, Connor? There couldn't have been a better opportunity to declare yourself."

  "Are you cracked?" Connor asked. "I loved the Rhidorroch and that stunt destroyed it all again."

  "They'll rebuild it. It was worth the risk."

  "And by the time they finish rebuilding, the term will be over, which means you guaranteed you'll never get another chance to beat Shona in the standings."

  Jok had been desperate to supplant Shona, but now he surprised Connor by making another dismissive gesture. "That was more important. If you'd been smart and showed your curse, once the truth was known, you could have sought patronage from my father and escaped Shona's trap. I was helping you gain the upper hand."

  "And tarnishing Shona's position at the same time," Connor pointed out.

  Jok shrugged. "We both win. The best kind of geall."

  So Jok had actually pretended to think things through before embarking on such a stupid plan. From one point of view, the attempt actually made a twisted kind of sense.

  Connor shook his head. "It wouldn't have worked."

  "Of course it would have. It was perfect."

  "Except for when Shona enslaved my entire village in retribution."

  Jok's enthusiasm faded. "She'd do that?"

  "Already promised it. I appreciate the thought, but I've gone over all of this in detail. There's no way for me to break publicly with Shona without causing more damage than benefit."

  Jok frowned. "Runda's not going to be happy to hear that."

  "Lord Runda? What does he have to do with it?"

  "I needed someone to shake the dome. He's the only secret Sentry I know."

  "How did you learn he's a Sentry?"

  "One of the benefits of my dad being lord of the Carraig is I learn secrets like that."

  "You didn't tell him about my curse, did you?"

 

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