The Paladin Caper

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The Paladin Caper Page 5

by Patrick Weekes


  There were more flags hanging from the doorways, though, and that was something.

  The guards at the archvoyant’s palace knew Pyvic on sight, and, after a quick and perfunctory check with a glamour ward, he was allowed inside. He made his way through the gardens and into the palace, where the archvoyant’s steward directed him to the meeting already in progress in what Pyvic remembered as the breakfast room.

  “Captain Pyvic,” Archvoyant Cevirt said as Pyvic came in. “Didn’t quite dodge this one, I see.”

  “My apologies, sir.” Pyvic ducked his head to the dark-skinned man in the archvoyant’s robes, and to the other members of Cevirt’s cabinet. “Caught up in a case.”

  Cevirt raised an eyebrow. “There’s a fresh pot of case on the table. Pour yourself a cup and join us. We’re going to shove a few more schools into this Republic, and you’re going to use those justicar skills to help me find the money for it.”

  Pyvic sighed and settled in with the other men and women at the large table. The room itself was lovely, open to the fresh air on one wall with a beautiful view of the morning sun, and the kahva was significantly better than it was at the justicar station. The other men and women were experts in their own field, merchants and bankers and guildsmen, and all of them were at least as busy as Pyvic was.

  It was several hours of work that Pyvic would rather have spent tracking down the enemies of the Republic, but, on some level, it was also like solving a puzzle, and while Pyvic didn’t understand how all the money moved, he had a good eye and could point out things the guildsmen occasionally missed. The servants brought more kahva and expensive pastries, and, around midday, Cevirt sat back, stretched his lower back until something cracked audibly, and gave a long wincing sigh.

  “Ladies, gentlemen, I believe we have something to take to the Voyancy.”

  “Learned aren’t going to like cutting the flamecannon upgrades on the port-city walls,” Lady Heflin said, shaking her head.

  “And in the days when Archvoyant Silestin could stroll into the Voyancy chambers in his colonel’s uniform and nobody could say no, that would carry more weight.” Cevirt smiled. “Today, though, I have generals who will argue that fortifying the walls is just waiting for an attack, and the airship I’m throwing their way will be sweet enough to cover the taste of approving a few damned useless schools. Thank you, all.”

  “I’d watch out for the road concerns,” Heflin added. “Apparently roads off in the outer provinces are falling right into the earth.”

  Pyvic blinked. “Really?”

  “Some old tower near the Westteich estate collapsed.” Heflin shook her head. “Traders passing by said it looked like there’d been old crystals down in a cavern. Must have caved in.” She knocked on the table. “Here’s hoping the rest of the ancients’ crystal marvels stay functional.”

  “Gods willing,” Cevirt said with a small smile.

  The cabinet members filed out, and Cevirt gestured for Pyvic to stay after they had gone.

  When they were alone, Cevirt looked over across the table, his face unreadable. “How are you doing, Pyvic?”

  Pyvic nodded at the question. “As well as can be expected, sir.”

  “I miss her, you know,” Cevirt said.

  Pyvic forced a smile. “I didn’t imagine you wouldn’t, sir.”

  “Loch was her father’s daughter. If she were still alive, she’d’ve been at this table this morning helping children who can barely afford shoes get a decent education.”

  “Technically, if she were still alive, she’d be in an Imperial prison, sir.”

  Cevirt chuckled. “Not the first time she’d broken the rules to do what she thought had to be done.” His smile faded. “I helped her enlist, you know.”

  Pyvic gathered the papers on the table up and rapped them together to even out the edges. “She never told me that.”

  “Her father was furious with me. It was weeks before he’d even speak to me,” Cevirt said, toying with the ring of office he wore on one thumb. “Even he saw the truth eventually, though.”

  “Sir?”

  “She was going to join no matter what he wanted. With my help, she got in as a scout, with enough people knowing she was a nobleman’s daughter that they gave her a chance.” Cevirt’s hands had locked together tightly enough to bleed the color from the pads of his fingers, but his voice stayed mild as he added, “Not a perfect chance, mind you. A woman and an Urujar, so she was never going to be a general, but with my backing, even the oldest, whitest officers couldn’t completely ignore her talent.”

  “As hard as they tried,” Pyvic, a former scout captain himself, added, and Cevirt laughed again.

  “I helped her then, and I helped her with her mad scheme to rob Archvoyant Silestin, against my better judgment. If she were alive,” Cevirt added, with no particular emphasis, while taking the papers from Pyvic, “I’d probably be trying to help her now.”

  Pyvic stood. “If she were alive, I’m sure that would be a great comfort, Archvoyant.”

  “Heflin wouldn’t drop a road collapse in casual conversation unless it were going to blow up in my face sooner rather than later,” Cevirt added. “I hope it’s not something we need to worry about, and if there’s an investigation in the matter, I’ll want to hear your perspective before making any hasty decisions. Kahva for the road?”

  “Ah no, thank you, sir,” Pyvic said, and left as quickly as was reasonably possible to grab the message crystal in his desk and find out what in Byn-kodar’s hell Loch was doing.

  The airship was very fast and very smooth and very expensive. The dinner selection was quite good for airship food. Westteich slept well in a bed with sheets almost as fine as those at his estate.

  When he woke up, took in breakfast and kahva, and strolled out to look over the railing, he was surprised to find that they were in mining country.

  “Ah,” he said to Commander Mirrok, who had evidently been watching by the rail all night. He did not have the ax, as far as Westteich could see. “I thought we’d be going somewhere with people.”

  Mirrok said nothing, and Westteich looked out at the great red-striped canyon that cut across the land like a glancing blow from a god. “Sunrise Canyon, I believe?”

  “Yes,” Mirrok said.

  “As I recall, that’s where the Forge got a fair number of the crystals to make Hunters. Must have people in the mine.”

  “You should be cautious,” Mirrok said. It had not looked over at him. “The agents of the ancients would have enslaved you.”

  Westteich smiled at the Hunter’s idea that he might have forgotten that fact and wondered where the ax Arikayurichi might be at that moment. “That was the moment I was more committed than ever to the cause of the ancients, Mirrok. Do you know why?”

  “No,” Mirrok said.

  “This Republic used to mean something, Mirrok. The settlers from the Old Kingdom came here because their original home was stagnant, and this was their chance to prove their worth. Now the Republic is stagnant.” He shook his head. “We make treaties with the Empire instead of fighting them back. We keep throwing good coin at schools instead of letting the people who care get their own tutors. I expect Archvoyant Cevirt will be trying to strip even more power from the nobles, just so that no peasant’s feelings get hurt by hearing me called ‘my lord.’ We’re so busy trying to be nice, Mirrok, that we’re hiding the truth.” He smiled, looking down at the canyon full of dirt and crystal and opportunity. Mirrok didn’t ask what Westteich meant, but that was all right. “Some people are just better than others.”

  “You believe that the weapons of the ancients will acknowledge your superiority,” Mirrok said. It was not quite a question.

  “I don’t intend to give them a choice,” Westteich said, and laughed. “I’ve finally found people who expect nothing less than the best. I can only hope they’re ready for me.”

  “Well said.” The voice came not from Mirrok, but from the ax riding at Mirrok’s hip. It had
been there all along, hidden beneath the fold of Mirrok’s cloak. Westteich wondered if the ax had hidden himself deliberately, and then decided that it didn’t really matter. “We have little use for those who are afraid to be bold, Lord Westteich,” Arikayurichi added, “and I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

  “Then why are you sending me to manage affairs at a mine?” Westteich asked. The ax had just said that he wanted boldness, after all.

  Arikayurichi laughed. “The mine manages itself quite well. The workers have an excellent safety record, and I can only imagine how much they would detest a lord coming in to tell them how to do their jobs.”

  Westteich thought for a moment. “The processing center. This is where raw crystal is prepared for shipping and separated into the different ores that can hold various enchantments . . .”

  “This is the most magically rich spot in the Republic,” Arikayurichi said. “Do you know why it is called the Sunrise Canyon?”

  “The red stripes on the walls, I had assumed,” Westteich said. “The paintings show them lighting up quite nicely when the sun hits them, and . . . that probably isn’t the actual reason.”

  “Not too long ago, the Champion of Dawn defeated the Champion of Dusk,” Arikayurichi said as the airship began to descend into the canyon. “In doing so, he fulfilled his part of the prophecy, ensuring that this world would move into day and not the terrible endless night of the Glimmering Folk.”

  The airship sank past the bright-red stone of the canyons.

  “And every dawn,” Arikayurichi finished, “needs a sunrise.”

  The last airship Loch’s team had stolen had been a sleek Republic military craft that Kail had, over many objections, named Iofegemet. Their current airship had been stolen from a minor lord’s second-best shed several weeks ago outside Ros-Aelafuir after they’d finally gotten the information they needed about the Forge of the Ancients. The airship had no flamecannons, minimal barriers, and a top speed roughly equivalent to a brisk walk.

  The morning after their escape from whatever the agents of the ancients had brought to hunt them, Loch and the others were sitting in the unnamed airship when Kail sighed, banged the console, and said, “We’re gonna need to put in for repairs.”

  Loch nodded, running a finger down the length of her new dragon-headed cane sword. She’d kept it stashed back in the little town, given that dragon-headed cane swords with rubies for eyes tended to be memorable in the minds of potential witnesses later. “Desidora, progress with the tracking crystal?”

  Desidora shut her eyes and paled briefly. The wood of the deck around her went black, with the little knots taking the shape of tiny silver skulls. “It’s no longer moving. At a guess, they’re at their destination.”

  Loch grimaced. “Kail?”

  “It’s a need, not a want. Wards are . . . there’s something in how they’re tweaked that is probably not bad until it suddenly is.”

  “Airship wards have multiple redundant power cycles based on prime-numerical values,” Hessler chimed in, “and the more ward-crystals fail, the fewer multiples are active to keep wards constantly available. Eventually, for example, if you’re down to a seven-second ward and a thirteen-second ward, then every ninety-one seconds, both will be—”

  “While your intent is clearly to provide information, I am only becoming more alarmed,” said Icy, who was seated on the deck in an uncomfortable-looking twisted-up meditation pose.

  “Yes,” Tern added from the railing, where she was determinedly not throwing up.

  “So we need to stop,” Loch said to Kail.

  “Well, not in ninety-one seconds,” Kail said, glaring at Hessler, “but yeah. Even if we didn’t have your problem with wind-daemons deciding they wanted to kill you, there’s a small chance that a bird will fly into the balloon right when Hessler’s bad thing is happening.”

  “Right.” Loch got to her feet and spun the cane sword thoughtfully. “Kail, find us a salvage yard. Desidora, if the crystal is stopped, get us a location. Ululenia?”

  Yes, Little One? came a voice in Loch’s head from a spot off in the distance where a white falcon circled lazily.

  “Please make sure no birds hit this tub at ninety-one seconds.”

  Hessler cleared his throat. “It was an example!”

  “She knows, baby,” Tern said reassuringly.

  “Got a ping on a salvage yard,” Kail said, squinting at the control console. “About an hour ahead. I think this is an easy repair.”

  Loch paced for most of the next hour, with the exception of a bit where her message crystal pinged. Then she listened to her boyfriend mention that the destruction of the Forge of the Ancients was making waves, and someone might want an investigation. Then she paced some more, spinning her new cane and getting the feel for its balance.

  “Hey, Captain,” Kail said as she passed by, “you know you can actually give people coins in order to legally purchase a sword?”

  Loch grinned. “Why would anyone ever do that when the bad guys keep giving up theirs?”

  Kail’s voice went slightly quieter, not completely a whisper, but low enough that it wouldn’t carry. “You know, if even Pyvic is saying that maybe tipping your hand about being alive is dangerous . . .”

  Loch turned to the railing and looked down at the slow meandering of the world below. “He said no such thing.”

  “I’m sorry, you’re right,” said Kail, “I am incapable of reading inflection and inferring someone’s intent like a normal human adult. Would you like me to use my illusion magic to do something impressive?”

  “I can hear you,” Hessler called over.

  “We weren’t going to draw a real target without doing something to get their attention,” Loch said.

  “I think blowing up the place where they make the Hunters might have done it.”

  “We had to be sure.” Loch looked over at Kail. “We don’t know when the ancients are supposed to return. We don’t know how much time we have. We needed a target, and we needed it now.”

  “And it sounds like we’ve got one,” Kail said, jerking his head over toward Desidora, who sat near the back of the ship surrounded by a ring of silver skulls and ropes that had for some reason become glittering chains. “But so do they, Captain.” Now he did whisper. “They aren’t Silestin, who didn’t even know who you were until we had our hands in his pockets. They aren’t the elf, who leaves smug little poems and plays thief-against-thief with you. They knew everybody’s names, Captain.”

  “So they know how we work,” Loch said. “We change our play, they move just like we want them to.”

  “Not what I mean.” Kail looked over from the console and gave Loch a hard look. “What’s the first thing you taught me when I joined the scouting unit?”

  “Fight the enemy, not their people.” And then Loch got it. “Ah.”

  “Westteich was never a scout, so I’m guessing his team doesn’t follow that one . . . and some of us have family that didn’t try to kill us recently,” Kail said. “Just a thought.”

  “Noted.” Loch turned away. “Thanks.”

  “S’what you pay me for.”

  They landed at the salvage yard not long after. It wasn’t so much a place of business as a place where airships got dragged or dropped, and there was a notable absence of official Republic inspectors and licensing agents.

  “I know where they are,” Desidora said as they touched down. The deck slid back to its normal color, and the chains turned back into ropes. A moment later, her hair and robes did the same.

  “Kail, you and Hessler are on repairs.” Loch looked over. “We’re on the clock. If throwing money gets us in the air faster, make it happen.”

  “I’ll have us in the air in ninety-one seconds or less,” Kail said.

  “It was an example!” Hessler said irately.

  “Sorry, it’s a thing now, Hessler.”

  “Also, fewer.”

  The two headed down the gangplank toward the men with grimy
work clothes and speculative expressions, and Loch turned back to Desidora. “What have you got?”

  “By direction and distance and . . . feel,” Desidora said with a little shrug, “they’re at the mining center in Sunrise Canyon.”

  “Damn,” Tern said. Loch looked over and shot her an eyebrow.

  “We attempted to rob it once,” Icy said without opening his eyes or moving from his twisted-pain shape.

  “Really?” Desidora sounded impressed.

  “Pure-grade crystals, unprocessed and ready for energy templates? That’s like a skeleton key for half the crystal-based security systems in the Republic.” Tern sighed wistfully.

  “Sadly, skeleton keys are very well guarded,” Icy said. “The facility itself, along with interior access to the processing wing, was restricted with an aura-coded key that never left the facility.”

  Desidora hmm’d thoughtfully. “Is it coded to a living aura or just a unique random energy signature?”

  “The latter, I think,” Tern said. “You think your death-priestess thing would let you dupe the aura?”

  “If it isn’t the aura of a living creature, you could get me inside, and I could—”

  “Ah, but wait,” Tern cut in, “crystal mine. Ambient magical energy like crazy. You ever walk around carpeted floor in fuzzy socks and then shake hands with someone and zap?” She wiggled her fingers. “Imagine that, but you use magic of any kind, and then stuff explodes.”

  Desidora gave Tern a hurt look. “That is nothing like fuzzy socks.”

 

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