Vol. 3, Ch. 132: Grocery Run
Neska and the others backtracked to the main row of vendors, with her determined not only to end that horrific practice, but also to slap the humanity back into people.
She should have expected this. She should have known that others would be degraded and desensitized to violence and cruelty after losing a war for twenty years. How could they not? This war had already cost so much, and the ethical barriers were shattered when—
She came to a dead stop when she realized Risha cracked that barrier first. The Awakened were the result of numerous breached ethical barriers. Some, worse than others.
Stolen monster young.
Mutilated souls.
And possibly the worst one, cutting people open and vivisecting them while they were still alive.
All to help humanity survive the onslaught of the Varadur.
She bit her snout tightly. She couldn't control that past, any more than she could bring Risha back to life. The ethical issues were not a 'now' problem she could fix. But she could change things for others, hopefully.
“Trevor?” she called over her shoulder. “I need a candid assessment. How much coin can we get from those carapace and other parts?"
“Uh…some?” He had caught up to her, cheeks puffing and out of breath. “Has anyone told you you're fast?”
“I did put points in Agility, so, yes,” she responded. “How much coin?”
He drew close, speaking in a soft tone. “This is between you and me. Strictly speaking, I should have turned in all collected carapace and specimen samples, including cores, to the logisticians in the armory of Rivilat. I did not. I kept some.”
“Any reason they all get handed in? Did you know what to expect in advance?” She asked, mildly surprised.
“All findings, including cores and crafting viable components are sent to salvage plus our research group,” he answered calmly. “I kept these because I fully believed I could get more use out of them. I already have plans for armor. The chitin can be ground, processed, and dissolved in mild acids. We then combine it with a dye solution to provide toxin resistance to any garment I soak it in. The stinger venoms can also be processed into antivenom, or researched further.”
“How much?”
“Enough to buy some items I suspect you want? Probably ten, twelve gold.”
“Is that a lot?” She honestly had no idea how much these were worth; as far as she knew, she'd never handled coins before.
Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Neska, it's not. It’s nowhere near enough for top-tier armor, equipment, and weapons for the combat-type classes.”
She frowned. “So we're still poor?”
“Very,” he sighed.
She glanced at him, concerned by his contradictory statement. “Isn't your family rich?”
“They are; I’m not. I was taught early on the power of self-sufficiency. I am well educated, and possess unusual skills. That is the greatest richness of all. Oh, and good friends," he said, awkwardly scuffing his shoe.
Neska let out a hissing sigh, as did Syrona, who she gave a questioning look. She wondered if her familiar doubled as a mood indicator, another weird quirk not mentioned in the power description. “So we're broke, then. Would my stipend even remotely cover some costs I had in mind? I need more supplies for rituals. Mana salts. An athame. A high quality ritual brazier. We need to find You-Know-Who, and fast."
She pulled out her notebook, and he took it in hand when offered, letting out a small hum of approval. “These are probably doable. But why these items?”
“We have objectives to finish,” she said subtly. “With the Varadur massing in the north, we’re on a clock, Trevor. Which means finishing them expediently is crucial. This place should have been searched top to bottom from the second Serkin was attacked.”
The silence from the others was discomforting. “Or would that expose the fighting pits, the trafficking of other convenient items the students, and probably the professors and other faculty members use?”
“Enough,” Kasfew snapped, having decided to interject. “You don’t get to judge. You haven’t been here, snake! You haven’t had to make hard choices between what is right and what is necessary.”
“Aren’t those the same thing?”
He shook his head, feathers pressed flat against his face. “No. They are not. Lose the naivety, Neska. Hard choices are hard because you choose to live with the consequences, even if they cause immense pain or inconvenience for others, or especially yourself. Now before you get too settled in on your moral superiority, I wasn’t quite done giving the tour.”
“Sure. You started with the parts you knew I’d hate.”
Kasfew shrugged. “Bad news should always come first. Follow me. We can discuss further things with relative security." He drew close and lowered his tone. “This is not where we should be discussing such matters.”
His eyes tracked left and right, as if searching for onlookers in the marketplace over her shoulder. Neska hadn’t seen anyone paying them particular attention. Except for one male teen wearing a leering grin and attempting to swallow something held invisibly in his mouth.
Human gestures were weird.
“Lead the way, then," she said, motioning to Kasfew.
Kasfew’s retreat wasn’t far and was, in fact, accessed by the same wardstone he showed the team before. The doorway looked out across from the marketplace, up a winding set of stairs, perched overlooking the chasm. Metal fencing had been placed as a barrier, and a few crude signs warned anyone from attempting to fly, climb, or jump anywhere nearby.
The metal barred door opened with a series of mechanical clicks and several dials spinning into position, followed by a pneumatic thwump. The heavy doorway opened to a somewhat cozy retreat of a room with furnishings, and arcane lights flickered on when everyone walked in.
A couch, several of those convertible cushion seats that accommodated her, a coffee table occupied the room, and a small kitchen sat in one corner. The room itself conveyed grandeur, and the trusswork was supported by stonework pillars and archways. The top of the room was wood planking and cleanly cut tawny bricks. On the opposite wall, a fireplace crackled to life with Kasfew’s assistance.
The firebird waved around. “This is a little home away from home, specifically set aside for the Stoltz family. You’re already marked as friendly, so that little mechanical eye outside didn’t attack you upon crossing the threshold of the doorway.”
A chill ran down Neska’s spine. These families were obsessive about their privacy and collection of hidden places. This was forcing her to assess whether Kasfew would be an asset or a rival. Or an inconvenient mix of both.
“It’s cozy.” Juni’s subdued remark was surprising, given her prior comments on Kasfew. “Do all the establishing families have safe spaces like this? Why don’t you have a portal right into here?”
“Yes, to your first question. Though their furnishings and functionality vary. Trevor’s family likely has some nice magical laboratory and fabrication stations, knowing them,” Kasfew said with a smile, strutting out with his feathers puffed. Neska felt that his mannerisms suggested he should have been reborn as a peacock, and it wouldn't have been much of a stretch of the imagination.
Trevor shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I guess that’s what happens when you’re born fourth,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his words. “I can answer the portal question. You don’t want a portal on premises, not directly. Its a long held belief they are a safety and security risk. Portals, even though prohibitively expensive and generally well designed, present a massive vulnerability that can be exploited remotely, unless your platform has access control. No one wants a rival family or adverse nation coming in from behind frontlines by skipping them altogether.”
Neska felt her tail go stiff, much like when Juni's fur bristled when annoyed or angered. These families were obsessive about their privacy and collection of hidden places. “I can see the risk. Has there ever been an effort to connect to any portal networks in Arivol?”
“Hard nope,” Trevor said, shifting uneasily. “Those were all locked out or destroyed once we were aware of the danger the Varadur presented. Could you imagine them with magical tech, on top of their evolutionary system? Humanity would have months of survival, at best.”
“Don’t give her ideas,” Kasfew sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past this witchy snake to propose just that: a back-line attack from within Arivol, if any of the portals were still functional. I want to know her current plans, however. The how, when, and where.”
“Where do you want me to start? I have some objectives in mind,” Neska said, waving to the coffee table. Everyone sat, or coiled down, in her case, while Trevor and Juni took notes.
Kasfew crossed his taloned legs, looking comfortable in the armchair that seemed to bear excess padding, or tear-resistant material. “I assume you’re not going on a mad quest to free those poor, tortured Varadur gladiators, are you? I can read you well enough that it's probably crossed your mind.”
“No. That comes later.” She moved on since she hadn’t worked all the details out yet, either.
Kasfew laughed. "You really aren't one for easy tasks, are you?"
"You know what we have in common? We like challenges." Her fanged smile was met by his bristled feathers and upturned beak. "But to priority matters, first. My assumption is Markus is lurking somewhere inaccessible to most, or someplace too dangerous for most, but close enough to the Academy that he can get in and out through known pathways. We need to assume someone has given him wardstone access to safe spaces like this. Or he iss someplace we can’t access without some immense danger.”
“You’re thinking of the city below?"
“Or the connecting tunnels we found under the cliff.” She explained their prior effort to secure a Roc egg, with Syrona trilling proudly…and deliberately sticking her tongue out at Kasfew when he gave the coatyl a look of contempt.
Or maybe Neska nudged Syrona to do that, mentally? No, she shouldn’t; she had to be the bigger woman in this discussion.
“So that’s one way he could have gotten back in after his flight out of the Academy,” Kasfew conceded a short time later. “But where is he now?”
“There’s another possibility of where he’s hiding.” All eyes turned toward Trevor. “This does not leave this room, because we have to be careful how this information spreads. Neska informed me that the assassin has either coerced or co-opted my family, or at a minimum, my older brother. That likely includes where he sourced some of his toxins, and his means of magical obscuration. That has made finding him difficult.”
Kasfew leered at Trevor for a good long minute. “You’re telling us this now? That’s even more reason to get in.”
“It’s not that simple. If that is the case, Markus is likely well-informed of what goes on down here.” Trevor glanced to the glass window overlooking the chasm. “I worry if I ask for a ward stone, now? It’ll attract too much attention. He could even have laid a trap for us.”
“This guy’s techniques involve poisoning, sabotage, and stealth. Oh, and chemical weapon attacks on a scale you don't want to think about,” Neska pointed out. “Let’s save that as our last search. Right now we can have Syrona scout the ruins and tunnels, and map out the unexplored areas, and we have the choice of doing it ourselves, too. If I can find any of his possessions, shed skin, or those conspiring with him, we can sense out where he is with greater precision.”
“Your last divination attempt on him didn’t go so well,” Juni pointed out, biting the edge of her muzzle.
“We are going to have to take some calculated risks somewhere and sometime. We also need to buy supplies for divination and other tracking rituals. I want this guy found, and I want to find out what he knows about me and Risha. He is not leaving a trail of victims on this campus,” Neska said adamantly, her tail tensing. “With our new abilities, maybe there’s a chance we can find him fast.”
Neska pointed to Trevor. “You and I need to go shopping. Let’s sell some dead bugs. Juni, we need to start laying out a three-dimensional map of all the known spaces of the Undercommons and the ruined city below. Syra, you and her can get into tight spaces that we can’t. Brent, you can help map it.”
“What about us?” Nori asked, gesturing to Kasfew.
“When I get back, I need to make some introductions. I want to know who’s who around here. I may also need to put a spell on you. For good luck.”
Kasfew squinted at her, beak agape. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”
“You will,” Juni chuckled.
“You think Markus could be just…waiting for us? Knowing you’d come after him?” Trevor whispered as he and Neska traveled up the row toward the various merchant setups. If Neska had to hazard a guess, there were at least several hundred people down here at any given time.
Where were these other entrances? They couldn’t all be unknown to the faculty and the garrison above. Or maybe they were and monitored closely, with a focus only on true dangers.
“Neska?”
She glanced down at him, noting the creases in his facial expression. He was worried. “It’s possible he anticipated this move. It’s better to assume he knows more than we’d like.” She kept dipping into Syrona’s viewpoint, using the [Familiar Link] power.
Except the transition every few seconds proved too disorienting. She winced and held her head with one claw before dismissing it. Even Syrona shook her head, letting out a discontented hiss. This ability needed far more practice to be useful in this way. All she knew was that she was getting looks from a lot of people. Not just humanoids, either.
A woman with academy robes stared down at them from a web spun above the marketplace, a stack of books and a few other comfort items bundled on the delicate but strong surface. Neska focused on her and saw six eyes on the woman’s face, a coy smile on her lips–and the large mandibles on her lower jaw.
Further accenting that was the large, spiderlike body that merged with her feminine torso, with short fuzzy fur coating the legs and bulbous abdomen. Neska had heard of these spiderlings, Arcachnea, and their variants. This woman must be a Tier three, she suspected. Most of the students she’d observed were first or Second tier, with a few in their Third.
She kept sliding forward, focused on her goals. There would be time to explore later. Up ahead, the road split at an intersection of alleyways; off to the left was a shop that drew her interest with the lowered curtains and darker ambiance. She smelled incense, wood smoke, and dried herbs.
Yep. A witch shop would always carry garlic, rosemary, and elf leaf. Or equally likely, an alchemist or herbalist. She slid through the archway to a shop with jars of herbs, liquids, and saltpeter all on display.
She put on a proud smile as she approached the shopkeeper, a woman wearing a pointed witch hat, dark eyeshadow, and bright blue eyes peering at her. A black cat with bright yellow eyes arched its back and leaned into the witch's waiting hand, and the witch tilted her head in amusement. “Greetings,” Neska called out.
“Not very often do I find monsters in my shop. You’re a newcomer,” the woman purred. The cat beside her meowed softly, leaning into her hand as if trying to draw her attention. “What brings you here, Miss Lamia? Or, are you a plus-one with your spellcaster friend? She isn’t holding you captive, is she?”
Trevor stammered, waving his hand frantically. “No, no, she’s my friend. Though her tail can be occasionally needy,” he added, wearing a knowing smirk.
Neska let that one slide; he was right, her tail did occasionally get…clingy. “I’m here for a few items, actually. I need an alchemical cauldron, mana salt, and I also need an athame.”
The witch cackled. “Hah! You look the part, dear, and I do love the hat.” She did a double take, then leaned in, eyes widened. “That hat. Wait. Is that…”
She nearly fell backward off her chair as she pointed at her. “Risha? What have you done to yourself? Where the hell have you been?!”
Neska stared blankly, then slowly turned to try to gauge Trevor’s reaction. He, too, looked at her expectantly, and she had no idea how to answer this witch's question.