“Our time would be better spent gathering intel for our journey ahead,” she muttered, folding her arms.
I put my hands together in faux prayer as I glanced between them both. “But… we can try to do both, right?”
Nora pursed her lips. “…If that’s what you want.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Why wouldn’t she?
Her eyes lingered on me, concern clouding them before she straightened and gave a slight nod. “You’re right. They could be trying to oppose us.”
“What? No! I only—”
“Rae, I’d love to be proven wrong, but for now, we should consider it as a possibility,” she advised, wagging a finger. “In their mind, you befriended their eternal enemy. Remember?”
“But they’re not like that…” I glanced at Relias for reassurance.`
His brows drew together, and he took his time before replying. “She counsels not from malice, but prudence.” He started to smile, but it wasn’t one of his better attempts. “But take comfort, for truth shall enlighten our joyful reunion.”
Despite his agreement, Nora turned her glower on him. Before I could investigate further, however, the Will of Euphridia twitched in its scabbard. Given the irritation inherent in the movement, I was almost sure it was Oliver more than the blade.
“Alright, alright. For the sake of argument, I’ll keep it in mind.”
***
The marketplace between Fort Turri’s walls was a resounding riot of noise and motion. Merchants of all means shouted themselves hoarse over piles of dried grain, knick-knacks of all kinds, and unblessed blades that probably weren’t worth the polish rubbed into them. Hybrids and humans elbowed each other for space between cramped stalls. The smell of dust and frying food permeated the entire area, and I found the combination unappetizing.
Threaded through the chaos were the knights of the Order of Blue. Again, I silently marveled at their bright capes and polished armor, realizing the Turri Accords most likely afforded them the new duds.
They barked orders, broke up scuffles before they got interesting, and checked packs with practiced casualness. But when their eyes fell on us, their vigilance melted away. A few even turned their mounts aside, pretending not to notice our passing.
The marketplace seemed to grow fancier the farther we moved in. At a polished oak doorway that looked far too respectable for any thief’s hideout, Relias once again produced Nora’s dagger with a discreet flick of his wrist. A pair of uniformed men exchanged a glance, then stepped aside, gesturing us through without a word. We ushered upstairs as if this were the most natural arrangement imaginable.
Where was the back alley? The smoky den of ne’er-do-wells? The whispered password and the shadowy informant with a dagger under the table?
Instead, Vulture’s suite opened onto a balcony above the market, with airy shutters wide to let in the din below. Inside, though, it was another world entirely. Thick crimson rugs muffled our steps. A carved desk gleamed with orderly stacks of ledgers. And at the center of it all sat the dark-haired man himself—lean, sharp-eyed, and utterly at ease with us.
Not even a quirked eyebrow! And what’s with the open shutters? Isn’t he afraid of assassins? Er—assassins that assassinate assassins, maybe?
Honestly, the whole thing felt downright asinine.
…Sorry.
“Apple juice?” he offered, gesturing to a silver tray at a nearby table holding a glass jug and four cups.
Isn’t wine more customary?
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“Ah…” Relias sighed, suddenly crestfallen.
“An older sigil, though still valid,” he explained, pouring a glass for everyone. He kept one cup for himself and took a small drink before setting it aside. “Don’t fret, it wasn’t your disguises that tipped me off.”
“I trust you’ll be discreet?” Relias asked with a sour tone. “Our endeavors are—”
Vulture held up a hand. “None of my business, and you could not pay me enough to jeopardize my innocence over them. But did you wish to hire me for a simple task?”
Relias sighed again and rubbed his temple. “We wish to send a message.”
Vulture frowned, then turned to Nora. “I’d wager you have a discerning eye. Perhaps you’d care to see my crystal collection?”
Nora jumped. “Who, me?”
Vulture stood up slowly, his lanky form overtaking my height. After pulling out a small key from his pocket, he unlocked a wall cabinet, from which he retrieved a giant orb along with its wire base.
“Feel free to… interact with it,” he said. “Though I’m not sure of its current range. The center is somewhat cloudy, and the local animus appears to be affecting its tuning. You’d be best to confirm receipt, my Lady.”
Nora grimaced. “So you even know about me.”
It’s a small world, after all. Smaller than Earth, for sure.
Vulture smiled brightly, and still, I could find no physical reason for his moniker.
“Where’s it connected to?”
“Chairo, High Temple.”
"How does it have such a long range?" I asked.
"I'm told it's attuned through a few jewels embedded in translocation circles. I'm almost certain that includes the ones not made public."
Nora glanced at Relias, who shook his head in warning. Nora then put her hands behind her back. “Ah, not interested, then. It’s very pretty, though.”
“I stole it myself,” he said with a sense of pride. “Right off Councilman Procul’s desk while his chair was still warm.” His eyes flicked toward Relias. “I misjudged your designs. A rarity for me, but then, you have a different air about you now. Much livelier, I’d say. It seems returning to the real world has been good for you.”
Relias refused to meet his gaze. “Safer be by sky,” he muttered.
Vulture held up his hand.
Relias replied by holding up three fingers.
Vulture shook his head and held up his hand again.
“Are you haggling?” I asked, a bit dumbfounded. “Just pay full price!”
Make the church pay for it.
“He’s indulging me,” Vulture explained with a laugh. “A certain someone would never let him live it down if he didn’t at least try.”
I bore my eyes directly into his, noting that his were a lighter shade of brown than most. “Anything else about this certain someone?”
Vulture pursed his lips, his eyes dimming. “We all have amends to make with her, that’s certain. But Goddess willing, we’ll all get drunk together someday and have a good laugh about it.”
That means he knows she’s somewhere safe, still a bit put out with me…
But she’s not… actively seeking to harm us?
Nora started to rock back and forth on her heels. “All drunk together… That would be quite an Order to fill, wouldn’t it?”
Relias nodded. “Especially since we would require an additional three goblets of Gold, not just one.”
I held my breath, mostly because I couldn’t decide if this was witty or overwrought.
“Where would we get them from?” Nora beamed.
At that, Vulture stopped smiling. “Two from Chairo itself, one encrusted with emeralds, the other crowned with ox horn for the occasion… The other one… I’m not sure.”
Tetora?!
I started to look around in a panic.
“We’re already on the lookout for the perfect piece to complete the set,” Vulture assured me. “We’ll procure its whereabouts soon.”
Relias gave me a glass of juice and began pulling out a tiny piece of parchment. “I’ve written the message already—”
Nora grabbed it out of his hands. “What’s it say?” she asked after she had already unrolled it.
I scowled. “Shouldn’t you have asked to see it first—”
“Payback for stealing my dagger,” she muttered under her breath as she showed it to me.
Old Wolf,
The newest harvest appears dark and dull yet curious, but if handled, it develops a black rot that spreads slowly from within to throughout. Have all manner of lanterns draw from the wise fire of antiquity, knowing the anointed shadows among them are friends, not foes.
My head hurt just thinking about it.
Even Nora looked a bit puzzled, at least to my trained eye.
“It speaks of what we learned recently,” Relias explained carefully. “The recipient is to inform all colleagues to take precautions, regardless of their abilities or station.”
Oh, the Ereborite! I guess he had asked Master Landon to study it...
“That’s all you want to say?” Nora asked, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.
Relias nodded. “Even so, it is perhaps too much. My earlier counsel must be overturned, and the Old Wolf is…” His eyes flicked once toward Vulture. “Thorough and Discreet.”
Caught glancing over our shoulder at the note, Vulture cleared his throat. “Speaking of discretion… I would advise against marching through the Wastelands to reach the Land of the Dragons. You should turn north earlier and hop a boat to the island of Nivarra. You'll be able to pick up another northbound for the area proper.”
All three of us flinched, but I was the first to find my voice.
“Nobody said anything about the Land of—”
“No one had to." Vulture’s face fell as if we had insulted him. ”Whatever that new dark ore means to your Purpose, people are throwing their lives away to mine it out of the large deposits recently discovered in the north.”
“Large… deposits…?”
Relias groaned. “No doubt the ancient handiwork of Sparkles…”
I blinked. “S…Sparkles?”
He nodded gravely. “Sparkles.”
Vulture’s frame turned taut. “Sparkles! You mean dragons are real?”
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