Chapter 486: Public Choice
Theron woke about half an hour later.
He came out of sleep more slowly than the others, the young man’s recovery pattern was still adjusting to E-rank, and sat up on his pallet with the small dazed look of someone who had been dreaming heavily and could not quite shake it.
Bruce did not ask what he had been dreaming. Some things a person kept for themselves.
They washed and went out for breakfast.
The morning stew stall was the same. The heavyset woman with the burn-scarred arms gave them their three bowls with the small ordinary nod of a regular. Bruce paid. They ate at the ledge-counter.
The city moved around them in the early morning. There were fewer watchers on the way to the stall than there had been yesterday. Bruce counted three. The reduction from six meant, he suspected, that some of the watchers had already reported what their employers needed to know, that Bruce had gone to the Second Light last night and stayed for a substantial meeting, and that the meeting had ended cleanly and civilly with no drama. That was enough for many employers to make their next move without more surveillance.
The moves were coming. He would need to be ready.
They finished breakfast and walked toward the main square. It was not yet noon-equivalent, but Bruce wanted time to think in the square before Caelen appeared. He wanted to see the day’s political traffic and get a sense of how the layer around him was configured.
At the small elevated café on the east side of the square, he ordered three cups of the warm liquid from yesterday. They took the same corner table. They sat.
Bruce watched the square.
There were more well-dressed souls in the square today than there had been on ordinary days. Not many more, perhaps half a dozen more. But the pattern was noticeable. Souls who did not usually pass through the Guild district were passing through today, all of them with the specific unhurried carriage of people who were there to be seen. Some of them, Bruce was almost certain, were Spire-district factions signaling their interest to whoever was watching. Others were probably Guild affiliates. A couple of them, he suspected, were personal intermediaries like Caelen, positioning themselves so their employers could tell each other we noticed too.
The political layer was activating.
He filed each face. He drank his warm cup slowly.
At noon-equivalent, Caelen appeared at the fountain.
The tall lean intermediary was in the same position as yesterday, in the same plain dark clothes, with the same calm still posture. He did not look for Bruce. He simply waited.
Bruce stood, told Kael and Theron to stay at the table, and walked down the elevated stone steps and across the square to the fountain.
Caelen inclined his head as Bruce approached.
"Ackerman."
"Caelen."
"You have your response."
"I do. I would like to accept the sponsorship."
Caelen’s face did not change. He waited.
"With one modification. I propose a two-month initial term, renewable by mutual agreement at the end of the term. If Elenora finds this acceptable, we can proceed."
Caelen was silent for perhaps two beats.
"That is acceptable to my employer."
Bruce paused.
"You already know."
"She anticipated the proposal. She authorized me to accept it if you made it."
"Then she and the old soul had the same conversation about me."
"They did not have a conversation. My employer inferred the likely form of your response based on your character in the meeting last night. She left me instructions for three possible responses. Yours was one of them."
"Which one?"
"The middle one."
"And the other two?"
Caelen’s mouth moved very slightly at the corner. It was not a smile, but it was closer to a smile than anything Bruce had yet seen from him.
"Decline outright, or accept without modification. Both were possibilities my employer thought less likely than yours."
"She read me well."
"She reads most souls well. It is one of the reasons she has been on the Nonagon for as long as she has."
Bruce nodded slowly.
"Then it is accepted. Two-month term. Renewable. What are the next steps?"
Caelen reached into his coat and produced a small folded piece of soul-paper. He held it out.
"My employer’s seal, in transferable form. You accept the seal by pressing your thumb to the mark at the bottom and speaking your acceptance aloud. The seal will bind to you upon acceptance. From that moment, the sponsorship is active. The mark will be visible to anyone in the city who knows the reading, most factions do. The mark will remain for two months. At the end of two months, it will dissolve unless renewed. If you wish to end the sponsorship early, you may return the paper to me or to my employer’s office at any time, and the mark will release."
Bruce took the paper.
He unfolded it. It was small, about the size of his palm, and the mark on it was a small clean elegant seal in the middle, drawn in what looked like dark ink but glowed very faintly with an interior soul-light. He could feel, holding the paper, the low presence of Elenora’s soul-signature. He recognized it. It was the same layered depth of glow she had carried in the meeting last night.
He looked at Caelen.
"Where do you want me to do this?"
"Wherever you wish. Now, here, in the square. Or later. Or in private. It is your decision."
Bruce considered.
Doing it here in the square would be a public statement. The watchers around the square would see him accept the seal. The news would move by evening. Elenora would appear to have won a small political victory in public. That was a signal Bruce could send, that he had chosen alignment openly, without hiding it.
Doing it in private would be a quieter statement. The seal would take effect the same way, but the news would spread slowly, over days, as souls noticed the mark on him during ordinary interactions. The political impact would be the same, but the initial signal would be less loud.
He thought about it for perhaps five seconds.
Then he pressed his thumb to the mark at the bottom of the paper.
"I, Bruce Ackerman, accept the sponsorship of Elenora Vessa for a period of two months from this moment, renewable by mutual agreement."
The seal responded.
It was not a dramatic thing. The paper glowed briefly, warmer than before, and the mark on it slid from the paper into Bruce’s skin, settling on the back of his left hand, small and clean and steady. The paper itself dulled, empty now, its work done. Bruce could feel the seal on his hand as a light constant presence, cool and clear, not pressing on him but there.
He handed the paper back to Caelen.
"It is done."
"It is done. Thank you, Ackerman."
"Please tell Elenora I am grateful for the seal and for the honesty last night."
"I will. Is there anything else you need from me today?"
"Yes. The portals. What access does the seal give me?"
Caelen inclined his head. He had clearly expected this question.
"The seal opens Elenora’s sponsored portals to your party. There are four E-rank portals in the outer districts of Xiltra that are ordinarily restricted to Guild members who have sponsorship from Nonagon members or Spire patrons. Two are hunting portals, one is a deep-forest dungeon that is significantly richer than the F-rank forest you have been using. The other is an aquatic portal with dense aquatic beasts. A third is a training portal, a controlled-terrain area used for combat practice and tactical development. The fourth is a specialized archive portal, a small library dungeon that offers rare texts to sponsored parties. All four are on the map I will bring you within the hour."
"That is generous."
"It is my employer’s standard sponsorship package. It is not adjusted for you specifically. She provides the same access to every sponsored party."
"Good to know."
"Additionally, the seal gives you preferred access to the D-rank portal network when you advance to D-rank. You will not need to wait the ordinary two-week processing period. You may present the seal at any D-rank portal’s guard post and be admitted immediately."
Bruce paused.
"That is a significant benefit."
"It is. My employer values her sponsored parties reaching D-rank quickly, because D-rank puts them out of the reach of most first-tier factional threats. Reaching D quickly is in her interest as well as yours."
"Understood."
"I will have the portal map delivered to your rooming house within the hour. Is there anything else?"
Bruce thought.
"Yes. One more thing. Are there any Nonagon members I should specifically avoid interacting with in the coming weeks, beyond the four you and the old soul have named?"
Caelen was silent for a moment.
"I cannot advise you on that as freely as I would like. My employer would prefer you form your own impressions of the other Nonagon members without my characterizations coloring them. But I will say this: if you receive an invitation, in the coming weeks, from a Nonagon member I have not mentioned by name, please forward it to me through the fountain before responding. My employer will be able to tell you, in each case, whether the invitation is one you can safely engage with."
"Understood."
"Good hunting today, Ackerman."
"Thank you, Caelen."