Note: Story chapter; no sex. But it leads directly to the sex, so you probably don't want to skip it. I just broke it up into two chapters due to overall length.
Chapter Seven
Neral made her way through the tunnels under her own home, the twists and turns of them known since childhood when she and her sisters used to play in the narrow halls and spaces. In the feudal days they were simply paths of escape for a family under siege by another. Over generations, when that became less likely, some of the corridors were widened and some of the hiding spaces were opened up into rooms to use. These things were done still with an eye to keeping things confusing for an intruder, and arguably they were now more so with the way remodeling them created new hiding spaces and how those could be tied to dead ends or different paths. That's what made it an adventure to be down here as a child.
Now she moved quickly to the rooms that Deres had claimed as a meditative and research space, past one blind pathway and through another, making her way west. Finding them, she opened the door into a set of rooms that contained his ties to his adopted home. This room was the largest of the three, the smooth floor that reminded her of white marble, but, he had explained once, was one of the many building materials that were created with science and nudged by magic that could be grown to suit any need. The floor was marked with an intricate glyph that only an Adaran mage could activate in order to access the city they called home.
The room was lit with diamond-shaped devices, evenly spaced, that also seemed part of the wall and gave off no heat to the touch. In it's own way these spaces were more elegant than the castle. Here was a piece of that world beyond hers. The door closed behind her and she took the path to the left which led to his own small study that reminded her of her own, as he had his own love of books, but she knew it had more of that technology that was well beyond her. She found her two standing in the midst of conversation as she interrupted with the only thought on her mind. "You've said you have something?"
"Well, no," Deres admitted, though his voice didn't lose a hint of excitement., "but a path to something. Maybe."
She shifted her weight in agitation. She wasn't fond of the uncertainty, but he was certain he had something worthwhile, so she went with it. "Show me what have."
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a smile.
She just then recognized her tone and blushed before clearing her throat, "Apologies."
"That's all right. I usually enjoy it when you're bossy." The answer came with an example of the technology that was barely comprehensible to her even that it worked, much less how. His index finger ran a rune over the upper right corner and the top of the desk displayed pages from the mage records. Neral saw them as if they were before her, from the weathered color of the parchment to the practiced, precision entry of codes in various types of penmanship, with their translations next to the entries. He could enlarge the pages or entries, move them about and even link items within them.
Nine pages spread out. "Of those in the outlaw entries the guilds provided, nine of them studied the arts as our target has. Of those, two are dead."
"Are you sure?"
Bryana looked to Neral, "No, but they are marked so." She answered the question that she saw in Neral's eyes before she could ask it, "Yes, it is possible those entries are false for whatever reason, but I must assume them dead unless I can conclusively prove otherwise. I cannot go to the conclave and call any of them liars before the other members without absolute proof." She softened in sympathy because she shared Neral's ache for revenge. "As Queen Evaline no doubt explained to you recently, politics is not an easy thing."
"Smashing skulls and stabbing people is so much simpler."
With a flick of his finger, they disappeared. "That leaves seven. Of that seven, only two of them have ties to Strannix through the ledger or the club via Harken" he pointed to each one as he spoke, "Lenobis is, by all accounts, now a traveling healer. It's an easy way to make a passable living if you've got the skill and have no one to claim you. Strannix has used him to heal some of the more unsavory people around him."
Bryana looked at the name. "He seems to be just what he appears though I keep him as a suspect because, like anyone with power, a 'passable' living might stop being enough."
"Though Harken and Strannix haven't called on him recently." Deres flicked him away, "One Harken likes to use for himself, without his employer's knowledge for all sorts of things, but he hasn't contacted or paid that person recently, and Harken's memory is clear that this person had nothing to do with it."
Neral knew Anna did what she'd set out to do. Everything he had done and known in the whole of his life had been copied, save the essence of him and, when the time came he too would add his voice to those before court who could no longer live with covering for or profiting from Strannix "Keep going."
"That's where the direct trail stops."
"Then why do you seem so excited by nothing?"
"Because Mr. Harken, manager of the club had something." More rune drawing on the desk before he reached to the table behind him, taking the crystal that was there. When he placed it on the table, a soft tone could be heard. Deres kept his hand on it and she saw his eyes move as though he were reading and seeking something. When he looked down at the table she followed suit and she saw hurried movement from what she assumed was Harken as he wrote a note called the name of a harried young man. When that young man hustled across the club and met him, Harken handed him that slip of paper. She saw it all as though she were the one doing it. "Get this to Rostal." After the order, the young man bolted as though on fire and the image froze.
"Rostal village?" she wondered. Many small villages and towns without much else to trade served as hubs for information and contraband of all kinds.
Bryana explained. "Hubs shift from time to time in terms of what they carry and who they deal with. Old ones die because the merchant who serves as the contact died and new ones form elsewhere because the priestess needs the money to feed the orphans in her care. This one is new enough that it hadn't found the guilds' notice yet. In fact, it may have been cultivated to be an exclusive pathway for Strannix or those like him so they could do their business with no one knowing...at least until a new path had to be found."
Deres pressed on "Enough money moved to pay for this within weeks of the event and it moved through Rostal, so somewhere around Rostal is the person we seek, or another step on the path to them."
"Maybe."
"Maybe," he agreed.
She thought she saw the endgame and she admitted to herself that she did taste the excitement of a trail, "So, are you asking me to invade Rostal, or are you looking for permission from me to do it yourselves."
"As fun as that would be, dearest, no." Bryana smiled at the thought. "We use a lure and see who shows up to take it."
Deres spoke as he gestured for his two to follow as he led them to the other main chamber here that served as the storage and experimentation space. The room lit as they entered. It was cool and clean and Neral knew that any scientist in the kingdom would recognize it as a laboratory to explore the mysteries of the universe, even if they didn't understand most of the equipment they saw. "And what gift do you give to the alchemist mage?"
At the back of that was another room divided by a door that could not be seen until he stepped to it. A gap formed as a thin vertical line from the floor upward before it smoothly became horizontal and that section of the wall slid back with barely a sound. Behind it was an expansive garden area. Plants and flowers lined the walls and filled the tables that stood in long columns that ran the room's length. Khylen loved being here with her father, learning about how important they were for their place in the world and how they could be important for a mage's work and Neral found liked learning those lessons herself. He was an enthusiastic and thorough teacher.
Each plant that had more particular needs was within its own circular enclosure, and that enclosure could be tuned to and provide any climate need. Some of the plants couldn't be seen beyond their rough features because they were cradled within recreations of the noxious soup that comprised the atmosphere of much of the wastes beyond the mountains.
He walked them back to the middle of the room and stopped before several rather delicate looking dark purple flowers in stone pots, the color darkening to black at the tips of four spear-shaped petals that protected a fleshy pink center filled with a dozen nodes around the stamen, each holding a globule of liquid as it sat in a stone pot "You give them something they can't get anywhere else." He reverently ran a finger across the petal. You give them a Storchere. Adar still cultivates them." He pointed to the nodules. "Each of these contains a powerful hallucinogenic that has any number of uses on its own and combines easily with any number of other chemicals, and, with magic, many others with varying effects."
"Adar still cultivates them, but they were rare in the world to begin with. They were rare, sought after, fought over, and now virtually extinct on the continent. The few that have them do not share the information, as they are worth more than their weight in gold. There's no way the person we seek passes it up and when they come for it. Then..."
"We take them."
"I can handle it, Bryana" Deres said firmly. You have something else to do anyway."
"Which can and will wait. If you think I will pass up the chance to get my hands on someone responsible for this..." Her hands balled into fists already prepared to pummel the life out of someone that, at the moment, still only existed as a phantom in her mind.
Neral's tone was ice. She had kept tight rein on her anger since this happened and she'd had pride in that. She could sympathize with Deres's frustrations and help temper them, but, at the moment , it was the unfamiliar feelings of envy and jealousy that broke through her inner armor. Either or both of them were to be the first to strike in vengeance for the attack upon her family. It had to be them because she lacked the skills that needed to be brought to bear. "I don't care who goes or how it gets done, just be sure that they don't slip through your fingers or we'll probably never find them again no matter how much bait you put out."
