Meek

Eli batted the knife out of the air with one spark and punched the tall man in the stomach with another.

The man with the mace charged them, so Eli tucked a third spark behind the guy's right knee and pulled. The man sprawled to the ground and the other man threw his hatchet at Lara.

The throw looked too forceful to block with a spark, so Eli blocked with his forearm instead. The haft smaked his elbow and two more knives cut through the air at him while the guy on the ground swung his mace at Eli's ankle.

He let the knives hit him in the chest and kicked the man in the face. Heard something break and slammed a spark into the small man's neck hard enough to drop him. He punched another into the woman's temple as she advanced on Lara, a dart already in her neck. When she fell, Lara spun and put her dagger to the throat of the gasping tall man.

Eli finished the guy with the hatchet, then pulled the throwing knives from his chest.

Another shirt, ruined.

Inside the tavern, two of the booths of people stood and the bartender pulled a short sword from behind the kegs. So Eli shattered a glass on the bartop, then a lantern, then pressed the spark to the bartender's forehead.

The people in the booths dove for cover and the bartender froze.

When the spark didn't move, he said, "There's a mage."

Eli opened the door the tall man had come through and shouted, "You move, you catch an arrow."

He shattered another glass then brought the spark closer to himself. He kept it just inside the hallway leading to the alley, to make sure nobody tried to jump them.

Outside, behind him, another spark peeked around the corner at the street. To watch for anyone approaching. Eli stayed quiet and alert while Lara questioned the tall man. She was smart about it, too. She didn't threaten him, which would make him stubborn. She didn't hurt him, which would make him lie. Well, she kept her blade at his throat, and she kept his face turned toward the corpses in the alley. So maybe there was an implicit threat there, but other than that she just talked to him.

Almost like they were partners, trying to answer the same question: how could the two of them, working together, convince her to trust him?

Three minutes passed terribly slowly. Eli's spark caught movement through the door, and shot inside to bang against the hallway floor.

The movement stopped.

Another minute passed, then Lara said, in dryn, "I'm done."

Eli checked for witnesses, then they stepped from the alley and walked unhurriedly away. They barely spoke for ten minutes, picking a winding route past the fishmarket to a neighborhood of tidy two-story homes. Lara clung to Eli's arm with one hand, like a lover, and kept his jacket closed with her other hand to hide the bloodstains on his shirt. Eventually, they approached the Old City from the west, paralleling the route they'd taken to enter the city the first time.

"Just normal criminals?" he asked.

"Mm. Apparently we stumbled into a territorial dispute."

"Vale," he swore.

"Look on the bright side," she told him, with an edge in her voice despite her airy expression. "You just killed a bunch of people for no reason."

"They were going to kill us."

She didn't respond.

"Fine," he said. "We'll talk to Brazinka."

Except when he woke the next morning--as early as always--Brazinka was already gone. She spent the vast majority of her time at her office. Poring over records and correspondences, tracing the history of organizations and properties like an obsessed genealogist. Though, from what he gathered, she occasionally shored up weak links in the documentation to 'prove' her authority to demand payment.

Then she presented her research to the subjects. Or the targets, really. She had never gotten a response, though, discounting the three times she'd sent the Cygnets to pay a visit. And even then, she only claimed a percentage of the monies due. When she'd taken over the defunct office, she'd seized the right to demand payment, but the political realities meant she couldn't enforce her demands too rigorously.

Though she had plans to change that. And she never stopped trying. Never stopped tracking down every descendant of every person and organization previously subject to the old treaties and--at the very least--putting them on notice.

"I'm becoming rather a laughing stock," she admitted that night as she joined them at dinner.

"Your ladyship is too patient," Elsavet said.

"Perhaps, but I suspect what I truly am is too weak. Our few successes happened too far from home to help build a reputation. And Rockbridge, of course, was a failure."

"What happened there?" Eli asked, leaning forward. "How do you even approach someone like the viscount and tell him, 'You owe the throne taxes from five hundred years ago?'"

"The marquis," she corrected.

Eli put a surprised expression on his face. "Huh."

"I found historical documents in the archives here that indicated a treaty was legally still in force. I asked the Rockbridge archivist for confirmation and ..." She took a breath. "Well, I received it. But I didn't receive the payment. When I went to speak with the Marquis, he told me that the chief clerk of the city archives had stolen it."

Eli managed not to say 'head clerk.'

"You didn't believe him?" Lara asked.

Brazinka shook her head. "No, though the Marquis showed me proof--fairly compelling, actually--that the clerk had brought the stolen goods to the Weep, to a bandit named the Bloodwitch."

"Ah," Eli said. "But if he had proof, why didn't you believe him?"

"My Stillness," she said. "Plus, it was far too convenient."

"What happend to the clerk?"

"I presume the Marquis simply hid him away during my visit."

Eli nodded. Of course Brazinka hadn't expected the Marquis to beat anyone to death; she simply couldn't imagine that kind of unnecessary brutality.

"So the money is still in Rockbridge?" he asked, feeling a simmer of familiar anger that the Marquis's family had never paid for what started all this. Not in coin, at least.

"It is," Brazinka said.

"And Rockbridge is too strong to target?" Lara asked, not quite looking at Eli. "I mean, with the Cygnets?"

"Indeed. And they've only grown stronger since the new Marchioness took power. Lady Pym. Quite a young woman, but ... driven."

"So you did what the Marquis wanted," Eli said. "He wanted you to go to the Weep, and you obliged."

"Mm. I suspected he was lying, yet I still felt drawn to go."

"To save the children?" Lara asked.

"Perhaps. Or to meet you. My assurances rarely come with explicit explanations. They're just inchoate suspicions. For example, that a concomitance will soon be upon us."

Eli felt his stomach clench. "How soon?"

"That I don't know. Six days? Six months?"

"Too soon either way."

"Yes, and too vague to make immediate plans." Brazinka fell silent as the maids served soup. "I need your help for longer-term plans."

"We need your help, too," Eli said, putting the concomitance out of his mind for now. "I mean, in addition to room and board and all."

She tilted her head. "Is that so?"

"You go first," he said.

"Well. I spoke with Elsavet and Fishhook last night, after you stepped out. They're emphatic about your improvement." She shifted her warm gaze to Lara. "Both of you, but I'm speaking now mostly about Mir Meek."

"Don't underestimate a dryn woman with a blowgun," he told her.

"I'd never be so foolish," Brazinka said, with a smile.

"How can we--he--help?" Lara asked.

"You've heard of the Stonemason's Guild?"

Lara nodded. "One of the biggest guilds in the valley."

"And one of the oldest, with a refreshing organizational continuity. They're quite respectable, quite conservative. Law-abiding and even staid. A stolid as stonework. Yet when I presented them with proof of their inherited debt, they dismissed me."

"How much do they owe?" Eli asked.

"Well, that depends if I insist upon compounding the interest. Which, in theory, I have every right to do."

"But in practice ..."

"In practice, the Office of the Stipend Geld would then own the Stonemason's Guild outright, which would serve nobody's interest. I am willing to settle for coppers on the silver. There are certain individuals in the city who, Fishhook assures me, might be able to secure payment surreptitiously, but he also assures me that they're not people I should do business with. Or become indebted to."

"Secure payment?" Eli ran his fingers through his hair. "You want us to steal from the Stonemasons?"

"Of course not," Lady Brazinka said, with the gleam of humor in her eyes again. "I want you to repossess from the Stonemasons."

"Uh-huh," he said.

"She'll owe us," Lara said, in dryn.

"If we live," he replied in the same language.

"Hear her out," Lara said, in Iolian.

"Yes, mir," Eli said.

"Thank you, Mir Lara." Brazinka took a sip of wine. "I've visited the guild headquarters a number of times, and the guildmistress's home even more often. This is well beyond my ... expertise. I am wholly ignorant of this sort of activity."

"So are we," Eli said.

"Yet I'm fairly certain it's why we met," Brazinka continued. "You will fight to stop the Celestials. I will, as well. We are allies, so I must ask for your help. I've sketched the parts of the buildings that I've observed. They did not see me as a threat, so weren't particularly cautious. And I've done some research regarding how they keep their wealth. Much of it is in gemstones. Easy to secure and transport, and more valuable than gold."

"I, uh ... " Eli shook his head. "You want us to to snatch gems from one of the oldest guilds in Leotide City?"

"Precisely. I'll leave the details to you. If you're willing."

"Huh," Eli said.

"Though I'd ask that you leave a receipt."

"What?"

"This isn't theft, Mir Meek. This is a legal, if unsupported, action. You'll find and withdraw the wealth. I'll forward it to the throne with an explanation. Once the throne is in possession, the Guild won't dare make any trouble."

"I guess that'll stop the laughing," Eli said.

"If you're willing."

"We're willing to scout the buildings," Lara told her.

"In exchange for what?" Mage Elsavet asked.

"This isn't an exchange," Lara said, slightly sharply. "We want to stop the Celestials as much as you do. If we can help you, we will. And you'll do the same for us. Not as a, a ..."

"Tit for tat," Eli said.

Lara flushed faintly. "Meek! Honestly. Not as a trade, but because we want the same thing."

"And how can we halp?" Brazinka asked.

Silence fell for a moment, before Eli said, "There are three others like the Bloodwitch."

Brazinka tilted her head. "Like her how?"

"Empowered by the Celestials, sent here to damage the valley. That's all we know. We call them 'Killweeds.' The Mother Grove calls them that."

"She speaks to you?" Brazinka asked.

"Not exactly," Lara said. "The Mother doesn't speak in words. But She's the reason we were in the Weep. We knew something was there. Something worse than brood or lost mages. There are three more Killweeds in the valley. We think, She thinks, they've been here for years. Maybe decades. Spreading poison. Getting stronger. Masquerading as one of us. They need to be unmasked."

"And beheaded," Eli said.

"But we can't find them. We don't know how to find the other three. We need your help."

"Ah," Lady Brazinka said. "What, uh, characteristics do they share?"

"Power and malice," Lara said. "That's all we know."

"That hardly narrows it down."

Eli laughed. "That's exactly what I said. You need to look for someone who is malicious in ... uncommon ways. Not driven by greed, but something else. Something stranger. More Celestial. And for someone with abilities that don't make sense."

"Like you," Elsavet said, dryly.

"Exactly like me," Eli agreed. "Except less charming."

"Well, 'less charming' certainly doesn't narrow it down," Lady Brazinka said.

Eli gave a little seated bow. "My lady."

"Don't encourage him," Lara said.

Brazinka gestured with her salad fork. "I'd be happy to investigate. To ask for any intelligence about, oh, particularly worrisome individuals? I hardly know how to phrase it. But I'm not yet in a position to demand answers."

"When will you be?" Eli asked.

"When I'm promoted to the Stipend Guild in the capital, I'll have far more access."

Eli squinted at her. "So we steal these gems, then you'll get your promotion--and find the Killweeds?"

"One more reason to help each other," she said.

That night, after dinner, Brazinka didn't read from a silly novel. That night she showed him and Lara the sketches she'd drawn of the Stonemason Guild, and the guildmistress's townhome. She explained what she expected them to find, and offered her best guesses as to where she expected them to find it.

Three pouches of gemstones. A fortune, if not nearly as as large a fortune as Rockbridge should've paid. Not nearly as large a fortune as Eli longed to extract from Rockbridge.

That would have to wait. For now, he'd steal gems ... and leave a receipt.