by John Bierce
“I’ll have to take your word for it, Talia,” Alustin said. “I’m not a particularly well-read devotee of novels. I prefer non-fiction. In real life, it’s rare to find multiple leaks in one organization when it’s well run. Not unheard of, but rare. A poorly run organization will often have more leaks than hull, if you’ll permit me to extend the metaphor, but Skyhold is assuredly not poorly run.”
Alustin leaned forward. “In this case, however, it seems likely that rather than trying to cause leaks, Bakori chose a pre-existing leak to work with. Someone who was already willing to sell Skyhold’s secrets would be much less likely to resist being gently pushed against Skyhold’s interests.”
“Take your time, and read through everything we’ve assembled on each of the suspects. We’ll try and arrange opportunities for you to meet each of the council members as well. If it takes a little of the pressure off, this doesn’t all rest on your shoulders— we have others looking as well. Each set of trustworthy eyes on the matter increases our chances of flushing out our prey,” Alustin said, leaning back in his chair. “After you’ve spent a little time familiarizing yourselves with the contents, I’ll take these to Hugh’s room for you. It’s the only reasonably secure, well-hidden location available and convenient for your purposes. Do not remove them, and do not let anyone else stumble across them.”
No one spoke for a time as they perused the folders. Sabae, despite her interest in Anders vel Seraf, ended up taking Abyla Ceutas’ folder, so Talia snagged Anders for herself. Godrick took Headmaster Tarik’s folder— which was appropriate to Talia’s mind, given that they were both stone mages. Hugh was left with Rutliss the Red’s folder.
After about an hour of reading, Alustin called a halt and retrieved the folders. Before they left, he repeated all of his warnings again. Along with one other thing.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow on a mission. I know this is short notice, but I’ve made all the necessary arrangements you’ll need to get by in the meantime.”
“When will yeh be back?” Godrick asked.
“I wish I knew,” Alustin said. “It could be a couple of weeks, or it could be much longer. Or I might not come back. Being a Librarian Errant is hardly a safe career choice.”
Talia wanted to believe that he’d be back just fine, but she’d seen too many warriors of her clan fail to return from raids to delude herself. There was always a chance a warrior wouldn’t come back. Skill at arms, cunning with magic, and even courage weren’t always enough. Sometimes luck was just against you.
What really worried Talia wasn’t Alustin’s chances, however. For all the trouble he brought them, for all the risky situations he pushed them into, Talia couldn’t help but feel that they were still much safer with him around.
CHAPTER NINE
An Unpleasant Surprise
Hugh carefully peeked around the corner. It had been a couple of weeks since Alustin had left, and things had been going fine at first.
At first.
The fact that there was a traitor in Skyhold working for Bakori had seemed to be a lot more manageable with Alustin here. He’d tried talking to Kanderon about it during one of his lessons, but as capable and intelligent as the sphinx was, she was far from being particularly comforting.
The overwhelming class-loads the four of them were facing weren’t helping things much either.
They probably could have handled all of that a little better if Sabae was on her game— she usually did a great job of keeping the others focused and preventing them from being idiots. Sabae, unfortunately, was spending most of her time clearly stressing about the thing with her grandmother and refusing to talk to the rest of them about it.
To Hugh’s great surprise, though, his biggest day-to-day bother had been his wardcrafting class. That student from Theras Tel had, apparently, been telling everyone else from the class all about Hugh’s exploits over the summer, and now every time he showed up to class, unless there were attention wards hiding them from one another, he got beleaguered with questions about the storm ward he’d constructed around Theras Tel.
Or he got called Stormward, a title which he had decidedly mixed feelings about. Not that he particularly enjoyed being called Hugh of Emblin, of course, but it at least wasn’t so grandiose as being called Stormward.
Plus, the Theran student seemed to be giving them a completely inaccurate image of what he’d done. He certainly hadn’t battled one of Ataerg’s dragons. Alustin might have pulled it off, but Hugh and the others were nowhere near being able to handle a dragon, even a young one.
Well, maybe Talia could, but she hadn’t. Hugh thought she was actually a little irritated at that, because she tended to change the subject quickly when he brought up his complaints about him supposedly being a dragonslayer.
If their classes had been more typical lectures, he could have just slipped into the back and ignored everyone, but the instructor, Loarna of the Vault, still hadn’t shown up to a single class. Each class was a series of escalating challenges involving wards— students had to pass, solve, and break countless different wards in order to turn in their homework, get their new assignments, and get the location of the next class.
Of course, if you failed, you still got the location of the next class delivered to you, but that, everyone was sure, counted against your grade fairly highly.
Hugh was sure that, if things were different, he would love this class. It was stretching his problem-solving abilities, his creativity, and even the way he thought about wards.
Unfortunately, the class also left considerable time for students to talk to one another. It seemed that group work was encouraged, save for a small portion of classes featuring attention wards.
So, Hugh often found himself lurking around corners to try and avoid the gossiping crowd.
It hadn’t actually even been this bad in Theras Tel itself— he’d easily been able to lose himself in the crowd, so long as he didn’t bring his spellbook with him. Which had been much easier at the time, as it had only just started waking up.
The book in question shifted contentedly. It had managed to get into a crate of old student papers meant for disposal, and had gorged itself on them until it could barely move. Hugh shook his head, and turned his attention back to the classroom.
This class, unfortunately, Hugh couldn’t tell whether there were attention wards or not. He’d found a somewhat out of the way side hall to watch other students enter the hallway outside the classroom, but each time they did so, they vanished from sight. It didn’t look like an attention ward, though— they were actually disappearing in a flash of light, not simply becoming impossible to consciously pay attention to.
Footsteps started echoing down the hall behind him. Hugh sighed, and prepared to head towards the class location rather than engage in another awkward conversation with one of his classmates.
“Hugh!”
Hugh tensed, and his stomach rose up into his throat. He knew that voice.
It was Rhodes.
Not even looking back, he darted into the wards shielding the classroom. He was momentarily blinded by the flash of light.
“Stormward!” a different voice called. Someone not Rhodes.
Hugh rubbed his eyes, and found himself in a quite average seeming classroom, save for the fact that there was only darkness behind him in the doorway. He ignored the other students for a moment, poking the darkness.
It felt slick as glass, and didn’t yield in the slightest.
“We think we’re supposed to try and figure out a way to escape the room,” one of the other students called. “Any ideas?”
Hugh backed up into the crowd, his heart hammering in his chest. He could hear others talking to him, but he didn’t pay attention.
His heart gradually slowed its pounding as the doorway stayed empty. No one passed through it, and he gradually let himself become convinced that Rhodes wasn’t coming in. He’d never seen anyone outside the class in one of their testing areas before, so it wo
uldn’t surprise him if Loarna had warded them out somehow.
Hugh sighed, then turned his attention back to his classmates and the challenge ahead of them.
“We should teach him a lesson,” Talia said, panting.
“A lesson?” Hugh asked, just as out of breath.
“A very pointed one,” Talia said, miming stabbing someone.
“Yeh ain’t murderin’ another student when yer under mah supervision,” Artur said, jogging alongside the apprentices. He wasn’t out of breath in the least, despite being decades older than them.
“Ah feel like murderin’ Rhodes might just piss off his uncle,” Godrick said. “And, yeh know, his uncle is still the king of Highvale and all that.”
“We don’t have to murder him all the way,” Talia said. “Just, you know, enough to teach him a lesson.”
Hugh sighed. Fantasizing about taking revenge on Rhodes for all the bullying he’d suffered at his hands did feel a little good, but for the most part, Hugh would be happiest just never seeing Rhodes again. They might attend the same school, but given that there were thousands of students, and that the school was a sprawling complex carved into a mountain, Hugh was quite happy giving avoiding Rhodes forever a good try.
Honestly, he’d be happy not even talking about Rhodes, but his friends had just kept coming back to it ever since he’d told them about the encounter the night before at dinner.
Rhodes had been gone by the time the class escaped the classroom, but Hugh had still been extremely nervous leaving— enough that he actually put up with the company of some of his classmates for part of his walk back towards the library.
His spellbook, from where it lay across the room, sent Hugh an image of it chewing on Rhodes’ head. Hugh smiled a little at the thought. For all the trouble the book got into, it seemed quite fond of him, at least.
Sabae opened her mouth to respond to one of Talia’s plans regarding Rhodes, then shut it again, an unhappy look going across her face.
“Sabae, what’s?…” Hugh began, but Sabae just shook her head and sped up.
When they finished running laps around the stone training chamber, Hugh finally confronted Sabae. She’d looked more and more upset through the entire run, and Hugh was tired of Sabae sulking and refusing to talk to them about her emotions over the past few weeks.
“Everything’s fine,” Sabae said when he asked, cleaning off sweat with a cantrip.
“You spent half the run looking like you thought you were about to die,” Hugh said.
“I’m fine, Hugh, don’t worry about it,” she said, glancing over towards the others for an escape. Godrick and Talia were a ways off talking with Artur, however.
“How am I supposed to not worry about it?” Hugh asked, glaring up at Sabae. She wasn’t that much taller than him, but she could still look over his head without craning much. “You’re my friend, me just not worrying about it really isn’t an option.”
Sabae sighed. “I appreciate it, Hugh, but I can handle my problems on my own.”
“You’re always telling me that talking about my worries will help,” Hugh said, “and you’re just about always right. More often than not, I’m just building up a situation in my head to ridiculous levels, and talking about it to someone helps show me that.”
“Are you saying I’m just imagining my problems?” Sabae asked, looking irritated.
Hugh started to panic for a moment, thinking Sabae was angry at him, then frowned.
“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” he said. “Trying to put me on the back foot so you can escape the question.”
Sabae opened her mouth to say something, but Hugh just plowed forward.
“You can’t just expect me to share all of my fears and worries with all of you, but then just refuse to open yourself up to the rest of us. That’s not alright, Sabae.”
Sabae closed her mouth in surprise.
“I’m not saying you can’t have secrets, or that you have to share absolutely everything with us, but you also can’t just leave us to worry about you and not let us help,” Hugh said.
“You really don’t need to worry about me,” Sabae protested weakly.
“Yes, we do,” Hugh said. “You literally ran away when you received the letter from your grandmother, and you’ve been distracted and upset ever since. You’ve been talking about half as much as usual, and a good chunk of that is just snapping at people. You’re definitely not fine, Sabae, and I’m worried. We all are.”
Sabae opened and shut her mouth in surprise, vainly trying to find something to say. She eventually appeared to gather her thoughts and gave Hugh a weak smile.
“I’ve got to be honest, Hugh, you’re really the last one I expected a speech like that from.”
Hugh shrugged and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s easier to stand up for someone else than for myself, I guess. Even if the person I’m standing up for is also the person I’m standing up to.”
Sabae’s smile grew a little more genuine at that. “I know the feeling.”
She walked over to the wall, then leaned against it and slid down. Hugh took a seat next to her.
“You’re right,” Sabae finally said. “I can’t stop worrying about my grandmother’s visit. She didn’t mention arranged marriages at all in the letter, but I just really can’t think what else could be driving her to travel that far away from Ras Andis. She never leaves.”
Hugh didn’t say anything, just waited for Sabae to continue. Of course, standing up to Sabae had been emotionally exhausting, so he was quite happy not saying anything for the moment.
“I just can’t stop thinking about my own parents,” Sabae finally continued. “My mom fled the family entirely rather than go through with her own arranged marriage. We marry to maintain our lineage as storm mages, but my mother chose a healer, instead, and look what it did to me. It turned me into a failure as a Kaen Das.”
“You’re not a failure,” Hugh interrupted. “You’re turning into a great mage!”
Sabae shook her head. “Maybe, but not a great member of the Kaen Das family. We’re storm mages, and the heart of being a storm mage is working over great distances.”
Sabae spun up a weak bit of storm armor around her wrist, staring at it bitterly. “I can only extend my magic a few inches from my body, other than the odd uncontrolled burst of wind. I’ll never be a storm mage of any sort. I am, no matter what my other skills, a failure as a Kaen Das.”
She let the bit of wind armor disperse harmlessly. “It broke my mother, you know. She was proud of her rebellion against the family. She never hated them, but she always felt that she did the right thing. She was always too fiercely independent to have ever tolerated living her life obedient to the needs of the family. Then father died, and we came crawling back to the family. If…”
Sabae was silent for a while, breathing a little irregularly.
“If I hadn’t been a failure as a Kaen Das, or father hadn’t died, or if she hadn’t brought us back into the family fold, maybe things would have been different. Maybe she wouldn’t have left. But it broke something in her when it turned out that her marriage, her rebellion, had ruined me as a Kaen Das. Her pride, maybe?”
Hugh felt like he should say something, but he made himself stay quiet.
“She could hardly look at me after that. She’d already been spending more and more time aboard seaborne merchant fleets, protecting them from storms, pirates, and monsters. When my… failings became clear, she barely spent more time than she had to ashore. I don’t think she hates me, I think she hates herself, and I’m just a reminder of that. It still hurts, though.”
Hugh reached out and squeezed her hand gently.
“When I was growing up, she always told me to marry for love, not for duty. After father died, and we moved back into the family compound, she told me that less often, but she didn’t stop entirely. When I came into my magic early, though, and it turned out I couldn’t be a storm mage… she st
opped telling me that entirely. I actually started blaming her for my trouble— if she had married as she was supposed to, I never would have had these problems.”
Sabae chuckled bitterly. “That didn’t help our relationship any. I started telling myself that I would marry whoever grandmother chose for me without complaint. It’s why I haven’t dated until now, why I’ve avoided any romantic entanglements. Every time one of you comes to me for advice, I feel like a fraud giving it, because you’ve all had more romantic experience than me.”
Hugh smiled at her. “You wouldn’t know it from your advice, which, if you ask me, is all pretty great.”
Sabae managed a weak grin in return. “That means a lot to hear, but it still felt a little ridiculous. I thought I genuinely was doing the right thing, though, until I got the letter from my grandmother. At the thought of an arranged marriage happening, something in me just… revolted. I guess I’m more my mother’s daughter than I thought. But I’m not willing to just run away like she did. I still want to serve the needs of my family, and we lost too many in the Blue Plague for the family to be able to afford to lose me too.”
Hugh leaned over and gave her a hug. “Whatever you do, you know we all have your back, right? If you end up needing to turn away from your family like your mother did, well… just remember that as far as I’m concerned, we’re your family too, and we’re definitely not planning any arranged marriages for you.”
“Thank you,” Sabae said, squeezing him hard. “That really means a lot to hear. And I think of you all as family too. And… thank you for listening, even if it wasn’t very fun to talk about.”
“You still have to tell the others all this,” Hugh said as he pulled back from the hug.
“Couldn’t you do it for me?” Sabae asked.
“Not a chance,” Hugh said. “Think of it as your punishment for making us worry about you.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst,” Sabae said with a smile. “It is a relief to hear that you’re not arranging any marriages for me, though,” Sabae said. “I’d dread the thought of who Talia might find for me.”
