Silence - Chapter 32

3/3


* * *


The journey up to the tenth floor was a breathless rush, the three of them ducking into alcoves and side hallways whenever they heard other Guilders on the steps. With everyone scrambling over the Inqusition's arrival, few would have noticed their presence, yet all of three of them were on edge. Evie assumed Vess was nervous because she wasn't supposed to be down there, rubbing elbows with the common folk, but she couldn't put a finger on why Atar looked like a scared goat whenever a boot dropped above.

"What's your deal?" she whispered as they hid for the sixth time. Luckily the stairs were very wide and heavily decorated. A couple of potted ferns and a deep nook kept them out of sight. "You're jumpier than a fresh dipper on market day."

"Fresh dipper?" Vess mouthed to herself.

"I'll have you know I'm risking my neck, coming down and bringing you up here!" Atar's voice was barely a whisper. It was a black thread at night. "If I'm caught leading the Heiress of Pax'Vrell around, I'll get slapped on the wrist and put on retrieval duty for two months. If I'm caught with you? They'll kick me out, sure as fire flickers."

"Kick you out? Over little ol' me?" Evie batted her eyelashes at the mage. "I'm impressed. The Elders didn't want to settle on a death sentence for helping evil Magda's sister?"

"You're closer than you know," Atar grimaced. "No one was happy to hear about Magda—"

"Not even you, Sparky?" Evie asked, certain to keep the edge in her voice. "My sister didn't treat you as you liked, if I recall."

"That is neither here nor there," he breathed. Evie could almost hear the lie on his tongue, but she let it slide. For now. "And it is in the past, too. Look, they've passed us by. Let's go."

"Why would they punish you for seeing me?" Vess asked, before he could stand.

"You don't know?" Atar bit his lip, as if debating whether to talk. "The Elders gave a warning. No Guilders are to talk to you, except those they'd already approved. Said it was to ensure you're not bothered during your training and recovery. Said it came from your minder."

"Darius," she said in a dangerous voice. Evie glanced at here with respect. The prim and proper lady sounded like she wanted blood. "I shall take care of that later."

They slid from the nook and continued on. They only had to stop three more times before they reached the tenth floor. At each floor there were multiple doors leading off the stairwell. It was so large than anything else would have been a waste of space. Atar led them to the right-most door, a plain thing with a panel of copper inset at the base and up to their waists. He motioned for them to hold and stepped within.

"I truly am sorry, Evie," Vess said. Again. "The Elder Teine's questions came so far I could never quite say the words I wanted."

"I know," Evie said. Her voice was low so as not to carry and she eyed the stairs again. "I was there, yeah? I was mad at you for a bit—more than a bit, truly—but I'm past it. It wasn't fair, not really. You didn't say a word of untruth at the Tribunal."

"Perhaps not. But perhaps I could have fought more valiantly. Said more, pushed them harder." Vess made a frustrated clutching gesture. "Something. Instead I let Darius whisk me away, leaving all of you. Siva's Grace! I have not been able to even send you a letter before now."

"It's fine," Evie lied. "Look at me, I'm fine." It was nice to hear Vess say those words, late as they were. She sniffed. "Agh, you'd think they'd dust in here more often. Clogging up my nose."

Vess smile at her, wide enough that her dimple showed through. "Indeed."

"Hm."

The door opened only a few moments later, and then only enough for an olive-complected hand to wave them both in. They slipped through, one after the other. On the other side, Evie saw an empty reception hall, filled with soft chairs and well polished floors. A large desk was sat at one end, and hallways opened up in several directions beyond it. Not a soul was there.

"Where is everyone?" she asked.

"Moving," Atar said. "I overheard more speaking on it as they carried out crates of supplies. Everything is moving."

"Moving?" Vess asked. They three had stepped quickly and quietly across the chamber, following Atar's furtive lead. "Moving where?"

"Damned if I know. The Guilders I heard only called it the 'staging area.' Watch your step here," he said.

They all navigated over a series of other crates and boxes laid out in the hallway, but quickly moved on. Down corridor after corridor, following a plan that Evie suspected not even Atar knew all that well. He kept pausing at intersections.

"Are you lost?" Evie hissed.

"No! I'm just—" Atar's eyes alighted on a marking on the wall. Each intersection had them, small brass plates bolted to the well-appointed walls. "Ah, yes, here we are. I was a little turned around when I first came this way, but I remember this corridor. Come!"

They hustled forward again, taking turn after turn, and each time Atar becoming more and more sure of their progress. As they came to the last intersection—according to Atar—they heard voices ahead. Evie swallowed hard, and gripped the chain she had wrapped around her waist. Atar all but slapped her hand away and pointed at a nearby door.

Vess eased the door open and they vanished inside, ducking low and closing it soundlessly behind them. Voices, people passed beyond the portal, not loud but certainly not quiet either. There were at least four, all talking at once.

"Well I think Elder Teine is panicking," said a high voice.

"Panicking? He's downright terrified of the Master Inquisitor!"

"How dare you suggest our master would be threatened by those zealots!"

"Peace, all of you. My but you go on," their voices faded as bit as the moved, and as the argument stopped. "All we know is that Teine wants everything transported below. Everything, and at a quick pace too. That's hard enough without working our jaws off, claiming knowledge of things we know nothing about. Mm?"

"But what if the Inquisition finds out about what we're doing here? What if they find the bodies?"

"They won't. No evidence is gonna remain. Anything we can't take with us gets burnt. Now move. We're short on time."

The squabbling faded further as they walked off. Evie met her friends eyes and she couldn't help her eyes from widening. "Burnt?"

"Bodies? Who have they killed? The survivors?" Vess asked. "And would they truly kill the rest to avoid notice?"

"Of course they would," Atar said in a voice that suggested they were being foolish. But Evie didn't miss the way he worked moisture into his lips before talking. "What I've seen them doing...I wouldn't want that traced back to me, were I involved."

The silence continued for several dozen heartbeats. Evie knew, she was counting. It was a good distraction from the thought of finding her sister's—She closed her eyes and ran her hand across the bladed chain at her waist. Still the thought of it bled through, staining her mind. Evie grunted as she stood.

"Enough of this, let's go." She pushed open the door, not bothering to check if anyone was beyond. Luckily there was no one, but Atar's face was apoplectic regardless. Evie pushed down her worry and kept advancing. "Where to now, Sparky?"

**count here tomorrow**

Atar made an annoyed sound in his throat, but it wasn't nearly as amusing as she usually found it. "Here, it's here." He pointed to a large door marked with another copper panel. It looked like any of the other doors, well made but utilitarian. So why did she feel so nervous?

"We can't stand out in the hallway all day," Atar murmured.

"Hush," Vess said.

Evie barely heard them. She focused on the door, on the faint scratches in the wood, on where the metal had been polished by a hundred hands. She reached out, pushed it, and it opened on greased hinges. Evie walked in, and the first thing she noticed was the smell. It smelled of medicine and cloying flowers, one making the other worse, and underneath it all was a thick odor of rot. Decay. Death.

"It smells of a charnel house," Atar complained. "It wasn't like this before."

"Where is everyone?" Vess asked. She stepped forward, past Evie and gestured to the room. "These beds are empty."

Stuck in the entryway, that shook Evie from the torpor she felt. "What?"

Stalking inward, Evie found the same sight Vess did: there were many, many beds in the chamber but every single one was empty. Linens were tossed about and crumpled, and in many places stained with odd yellow fluids, but there was not a single sign of the survivors. Vess cursed which Evie would normally have been delighted to hear, but she felt as if someone had stuffed her ears with wool.

Evie spun on Atar. "Where are they?"

Atar held up his hands defensively. "You heard the Guilders! They're moving everything and everyone somewhere else! I didn't—I don't know where! I told you this!"

"Atar," Evie growled, but was cut off.

"Evie!" Vess gasped. "Evie, come look."

Hidden behind a partition, Vess was staring with a hand over her mouth. Evie raced over, the numb feeling she'd labored under dropping, sinking into her legs and toes to become something more, something terrifying. She turned the corner and her breathing hitched in her chest.

"Maggie."

There, on a bed inscribed with countless lines and sigils of pale green-gold, was her sister. She was dressed in some sort of healer's gown and not her armor. Of course she wasn't, she thought. Where is her armor though? That was expensive. Took us years of saving to buy the first piece of it. We can't—

"...Evie?"

"Hm?" Vess was speaking to her, had been for a while. "What did you say?"

"Are you alright?"

"I'm," she swallowed. It was hard to form words. "We have to get her out of here. Help me." Evie stepped forward, but a hand on her elbow pulled her back.

"Don't," Atar hissed. He pointed at the sigils flickering along the raised sides of the bed. "These keep her body in stasis. Keeps it from...you know. But these," he pointed out another set of sigils, all spiraling around each other like water down a drain. "These are protections. Wards against contact and movement. We can't touch her until those are taken down."

"Then take them down," Evie snarled and yanked her elbow from his grip.

Atar pulled out a slender silver pen, but instead of a quill or ink reservoir, it was more like a chisel. He got to work, slowly etching a series of symbols to the side of the complicated array. Evie's attention quickly wandered away from him, flitting back to her sister. She looked as if she was sleeping, just moments from waking. Evie knew that was a combination of a powerful Journeyman Body and the wards, but she couldn't help the treacherous thrill of possibility that climbed her spine.

She's gone. And yet.... Her hand reached out, stopping shy of the almost-invisible dome of energy surrounding Magda. If only she could simply wake up.

Evie closed her hand atop her chain, letting the hard metal press through her gloves. It hurt, but that was the point. At least it made it easier to think, like when she fought. The burn of muscles and recoil from a blow well struck, it cleared Evie's mind like nothing else. But here, here she had no foe to fight, no monster to kill. It was just her and the specter of death.

She gritted her teeth and fingered the daggers across her chest, but she did not move from Magda's side while Atar scratched away.


* * *


Atar placed the last mark of his array down and leaned back to view his work. It was rushed, not as precise as he'd wish and thus would be less Mana efficient, but it should do. Yes, he nodded to himself. That is a fine array.

Sigaldry is level 18!

Sigaldry is level 19!

The notification was a welcome surprise, and Atar just about grinned. Only when he caught Evie's drawn face, he felt the happiness drain out of him. He couldn't very well celebrate when they were still dealing with Magda's body. Instead, he focused his Willpower, snagging it upon the starting sigil, and breathed Mana from his right palm Gate.

Invocation is level 14!

The array activated, fueled by his Mana, and as it did it sent tendrils of power out into the larger array sequence. The stasis and containment arrays were monstrously complicated, far more so than he could hope to understand in a glass or even a week, but they had the same problem many arrays had: a maximum Mana limit. The Mana from his array surged, collecting and refining before injecting itself into the formation. There was a bright, blinding spark and a whoosh of silent flame before everything went dark.

"There. It's done." Atar let himself smile this time, truly proud of his work around. Not many could have gotten around the surge dampeners he'd found, especially not someone without an Apprentice Tier Spirit.

Evie's breathing quickened and she reached out a tentative hand. When she encountered nothing, the hand rushed down to Magda's side, grabbing a shoulder in a fierce grip. Atar looked elsewhere. People crying made him uncomfortable.

Vess was standing a ways away, or she had been. Atar couldn't see her from within the partitioned area, so he stepped out to give Evie some privacy. He found Vess at the door, listening with a single ear.

"What's going—"

"Quiet," Vess commanded, her voice low so as not to carry. "Someone is coming."

"What? We have to get out of here!" Atar also kept his voice low, but it was a close thing. "We—"

The door opened faster than they could stop it, and both Vess and Atar were shocked into immobility. A bulky figure stood there, framed by the threshold, and chuckled.

"If you coulda seen the looks on your faces," Harn chortled. "Priceless."

"Harn?" Atar said in confusion, while Vess greeted him with a bright smile.

"How did you know to look for us?" Vess asked.

"Evie ain't as slick as she thinks she is. Only took a little investigatin' to find the message you sent her Atar," Harn shrugged and stepped into the room. He looked around intently. "Where are they? The survivors?"

"Gone," Vess said. Harn swiveled to her with an angered grunt. "We do not know where. Only that they were likely moved due to the Inqusition's appearance."

Harn grunted again, this time in sour agreement. "There'll be a lotta that. Reshufflin' the deck now that the pit boss is watchin'."

"What?" Atar asked. That reference had made no sense to him.

Harn opened his mouth to answer—or say something rude, one never knew with the warrior—but he snapped it shut again. He tilted his head. "Someone's coming. Multiple people, at least two, maybe three."

"Noctis' tits!" Evie cursed as she came around the partition. "Harn! No, Atar! Go! Take care of it! Stall them or—or something!"

"Why me?" Atar said, his heart in his throat. "I'm not supposed to be here either!"

"Because we'll get kicked out the nearest window," she growled, gesturing to herself and Harn. "And she's a Duchess. Go!"

She shoved him, and despite his increases in Strength, he was no match for the girl. "Fine! Fine. Let go of me, you chain-slinging cretin!" Evie stopped pushing, and Atar straightened his robes. He took a breath and looked at the others. "You all owe me."

He stepped into the hall. It was empty for a stretch, but Atar could hear people coming up from his right, and he moved quickly. Bracing himself, he took the corner and walked headlong into a group of three Guilders. Bronze Rank Guilders. Burn me. Of course it's him.

"You!" snarled the lead, the barrel chested Okar. "I told you never to come back here again, didn't I?"

"Who's this?" said a woman beside him. Long, intricate braids hung from her head, and her face had been painted with blue and black shapes.

"Some worthless Tin Rank, Yvette," Okar said to her offhandedly. "One I threatened with bodily harm if he strayed back here again."

"Listen, Okar. Sorry. I just—I got lost again. These corridors are confusing," Atar said glibly. It had been the excuse he'd prepped before he'd ever sent Evie that letter. "Surely you wouldn't kill me for being lost?"

"He's done worse for less," said a pale haired man with a wide smile. He had several scars over his lips. "Haven't you, Okar?"

In response, the bearded Bronze Rank merely smiled, but it was not comforting in the least. It was a rictus grin, devoid of warmth. A spike of dread sank deeper into Atar's bones. He worked his tongue, drying to dredge up some moisture so he could speak, but terror gripped him hard.

Damn you, Evie!

"There you are!" said a surprising voice. Atar jerked, alarmed to see Alister step from another side corridor. The man threw his arms to the side, letting his blue coat flare dramatically. "I've been looking all over—did you get lost with the last shipment?"

"Wha—I, um—"

"Of course you did," Alister sighed, so loudly it was as if he was questioning why he was cursed with such an incompetent. Atar almost felt angry about it, before he realized what the noble was doing. "Forgive him, Okar. He's a bit of an idiot when it comes to directions. Gets lost so easy."

The bearded Bronze Rank eyed the both of them, from the tips of their shoes to the tops of their heads. His beard twitched and mouth puckered, clearly unwilling to let any of it slide. Yet before he could say a thing, the tattooed woman beside him groaned in annoyance.

"Come off it, Okar. We've shipments to haul and I don't plan to be here all burning day."

Okar grunted and stuck a blunt finger in their faces. "Get outta here. And don't come back til I see an Iron medallion on your chests, eh? Otherwise I'll gut you, audience or not." He jerked his head. "Let's go."

Atar swallowed as he watched the three Bronze Ranks continue around the corner, heading straight for the room Vess and Evie were in. He only hoped he'd bought them enough time. He'd arranged this to ease his conscience, not add to it.

"Ahem."

"Oh, you're still here?" Atar muttered. "My thanks for the assistance. I clearly had everything under control, but, well, thank you."

"My pleasure," Alister said offhandedly. Was he grinning? "Is this where the illustrious Professor gets to when he can't help the team? Avoiding the Elder's fetch quests?"

"Listen, I—"

"I don't need to know," Alister said. He shrugged. "Easier to tell someone I don't know, rather than lie."

"Oh, ah," Atar stammered. "I see."

"Buuut," Alister said, dragging out the word. "If you want to repay me, there is a tavern over on Chandler and Lapidary. We could go and have a bite to eat or a drink."

Atar sighed, defeated. "...Fine. Just one drink."

"Wonderful." They began to walk away, just as a deep voice shattered the quiet.

"WHERE'S THE BODY?"

Atar started walking faster, pulling Alister's arm, away from the Bronze Ranks. "We should leave. Quickly."


* * *


Evie panted, winded and shaking from their chancy escape. She risked a peek around the corner, but there was no sign of pursuit, though she heard the sound of muffled yelling further off.

"I think we're good," she said.

"We ain't good til we're outta this tower," Harn said. He shifted the bundle on his shoulder, carefully. Evie kept looking at it and jerked her eyes away. She couldn't think about it, not til they were done.

"I can get you down to the Lobby, but from there you will have to fend for yourselves," Vess said with a grimace. "I am not...allowed outside of the Eyrie. The last thing you need is an angry Adept coming to find us."

"Sounds like a real ass," Evie said. "But thank you."

"Of course." Vess took Evie's hand and squeezed. "I am incensed, however, that we could not find the survivors."

More angry shouting came from behind them, this time accompanied by hurried footsteps.

"We haven't the time, Vess. Evie, let's go." Harn pointed the way. "There are servant's entrances along the back route. If we move, we might just make it."

Evie squeezed her bladed chain, letting the pain center her, before nodding. Harn caught her eye.

"You did good, kid."

She grinned, despite herself. "Yeah."

Then they ran for their lives.


* * *


The Envoy had watched the Humans fumble about with the body of the dead one. He had been tempted to interfere, to either kill them or aid them, just to get them out of the way. He was the last of the "survivors" the Guilders were moving below, and that concerned him enough that he did not need the distraction of some interlopers.

For below them was the very purpose of his journey to the heart of the mortal's city.

In the end, the Envoy did nothing. He simply rested and waited, senses extended to envelop the whole of the tenth floor. A simple thing, really. These Guilders were far weaker than he had been led to believe. Even a trio of Untempered fools was able to steal away their prized corpse.

The last one however, the armored one, he was dangerous. The moment he arrived, the Envoy had let his Father's powerful arrays flare, hiding him from all senses. He hadn't bothered with the Untempered; they barely noticed anything at all.

When they left, carrying their corpse, the Envoy breathed a sigh of relief. His skin, pasty and entirely too fleshy, it itched. He wished to tear it away, but now was not the time. No. No, it was not right yet.

Soon he could begin his Father's plan.

Soon.