Pandora Unchained - B1C77: Espionage

"Absolutely not," said Lawrence, throwing himself down on a comfy chair and picking up a cup of hot chocolate. "You listen to me, Sorin Kepler. Drink some hot cocoa and have a few cookies to calm down. You'll soon realize that life is worth living and that sneaking into the governor's manor is basically suicide. Seriously – ask my dad. Dad, it's suicide, isn't it?"

"It's only suicide if you get caught!" said Mr. Holt from the kitchen. "How long are you staying, Sorin? Lawrence, should I make pie? You know what, I'll just start making pie."

"I think we're good on the pie front Dad!" yelled Lawrence. "See? Straight out of the old man's mouth – it's suicide. We'll get caught."

"I'm not deaf, Lawrence," said Sorin. "Besides, weren't you looking for a way to become a hero? I think sneaking into a flesh sanctification cultivator's manor to look for traces of human experimentation conducted by a bone-forging physician when you're only a blood-thickening cultivator is pretty damn heroic."

"But it's not me," said Lawrence. "I peep on casual things. Meaningless things. Peeping is sightseeing, not military espionage."

"Fine. Don't come," said Sorin, taking a big gulp of hot cocoa. "Wow. That's good."

"The secret ingredient is freshly shaved chocolate imported from Dumas," said Lawrence, raising his mug. "You won't find anything like it even in the nearest city."

"Is that what your dad spends his adventuring savings on?" asked Sorin.

"What else is he going to spend them on?" asked Lawrence. "It's baking and hot chocolate or hard drugs. Take your pick."

"Fair enough," said Sorin. "Well, if you're not game, I guess I can only talk to Haley. She is the better rogue, after all."

"Pft," said Lawrence. "She's not a rogue. She's an assassin."

"Is there a difference?" asked Sorin.

"A big one," said Lawrence. "She's a stickler for the rules, for one. She definitely won't volunteer to break into the governor's manor."

"But you already said no, and I don't know anyone else who could succeed," said Sorin.

Lawrence sighed. "It's a sin to be so talented. And so good-looking. I can see why you came knocking on my door, begging for a favor."

"Who said anything about begging?" asked Sorin. "Actually, you know what? There's no need to bother. I'll get Lorimer to sneak in." Lorimer, who'd been nibbling on a cookie, froze mid-nibble and shook his head. "Come on, don't be a coward, Lorimer. I'll buy you… a thousand gold in demon cores. You can even pick them." Once again, Lorimer shook his head. "Fine. Haley, it is. Enjoy your cookies and hot cocoa, Lawrence."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Lawrence, intercepting Sorin before he could leave the residence. "It's not out of the question. But I'll need support. You'll need to come with me. And Lorimer will need to, too."

"Won't that make us more likely to be discovered?" asked Sorin.

"Only if we're stupid about it," said Lawrence. "In truth, it's not as risky as you're making it out to be. It takes energy to monitor a whole castle – and the governor's manor is basically a castle. You think a flesh sanctification cultivator can just casually monitor two square kilometers, three stories, and a super-basement through solid stone?"

"You make a good point," Sorin admitted. "Though the level of detail you're giving me is telling me you've done this before."

"Looks like the jig is up," said Lawrence. "Indeed I have. And without getting caught. There are two reasons I need the two of you. Firstly, Lorimer makes a good distraction. No one expects rats to collude with people. They won't even think about it even if they know you have a rat familiar. Rats are disgusting creatures that no one would ever cooperate with.

"Second, your poisons might come in handy."

"My spells aren't exactly covert," said Sorin.

"But you don't have to use spells," said Lawrence. "And you can do cool things like melt locks and paralyze people with your whip. You might not be good at sneaking around and stabbing things, but knocking them out? You're a pro!"

"Fine," said Sorin. "Lorimer and I will accompany you. But we need to do this tonight. I just processed a few batches of manabane poison, and I imagine Marcus will want to begin experimenting right away, assuming he's using the demon tide as cover for his experiments."

"Are you sure you're not overreacting?" asked Lawrence. "Just because he's zeroing down on your clan's secret formula, it doesn't mean he's going to start experimenting on people. Besides, isn't he a nice guy?"

"Both you and my butler said he was obviously a snake," said Sorin. "I happen to feel the same way."

"Fine," said Lawrence. "We'll go tonight. But not till two in the morning."

"What happens at two?" asked Sorin.

"Shift change, obviously," said Lawrence. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Have you seriously gone peeping inside the governor's manor before?" asked Sorin. "Then why were you fighting me so hard on this?"

"Woah, slow down," said Lawrence. "I've only snuck around the first floor. Possibly the second, and perhaps only near a young lady's bedroom. But sneaking into an evil basement laboratory is a whole other story. I didn't get very far before they chased me out."

"You got caught?" groaned Sorin. "And how are you so sure it's in the basement?"

"It's obviously in the basement," said Lawrence. "You said this procedure is painful and possibly lethal, right? It's pretty hard to hide that kind of stuff when a gardener could just look through the window and casually witness evil in the making, don't you think? Pretty much all dangerous things happen in the basement. And I'd bet my dad's hot cocoa recipe the governor's cultivation chamber is in a secondary basement."

"But probably not on the same floor as the experiments," said Sorin.

"Probably not," said Lawrence. ""High-level cultivators hate getting distracted the most."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Sorin. "There's probably a lot to prepare."

"Pie," said Lawrence. "Because no one sneaks into an evil basement on an empty stomach."

***

Several hours and two pies later, two men and one pet rat launched themselves above a three-meter wall just as one guard's mana lamp faded and another took its place. The three interlopers squeezed through the narrow opening in the manor's defenses and rolled underneath an irregular opening beneath a narrow hedge.

They waited for the patrolling guard's heavy footsteps to pass, then cut across the yard just beside a lamp-lit entrance. Their target: a small window covered in steel bars. The bars were loose, and with a bit of work on Lawrence's part, they managed to sneak through it and into a dark room on the first floor of the governor's manor.

"This is the first banquet room," Lawrence explained as they edged over to the closed door and cracked it open. "As far as I know, there are two entrances to the basement, each of them under guard. There are stairs near the front entrance, the most obvious route and there's also the entrance the servants use. It's tiny and single-file, but it's much more discreet. Follow me!"

The two men and their trusty rat scurried across the floor. Lawrence blended with the shadows, while Sorin kept impossibly low for most humans with the help of Adder Rush. "Do we just run across –"

"Freeze!" hissed Lawrence. Sorin didn't move an inch as a small curtain of shadows spread out from Lawrence's cloak, completely obscuring him as a pair of maids walked by with a basket of laundry. "We're fine now," said Lawrence, dispelling the cloak and breaking into a casual walk. "At least, until the kitchen we are. Getting past that is going to be tricky. But that's alright – I have a plan."

As with most large residences, the Governor's Manor never truly slept. There were servants awake at all times of day and night in an effort to keep the place perpetually spotless, as well as an assortment of cooking staff and two chefs – one for days and one for nights – constantly preparing delicacies for the governor, his family, and his guests to enjoy.

Wondrous smells wafted out of the kitchen when they arrived. Lawrence pulled Sorin to the wall just as a pork-bellied man with stained white clothes stormed out the door and shouted to a nearby attendant. "Bring zis one up to the second floor for mizz Penelope and her friends to enjoy."

"I'm afraid they might be sleeping," said the attendant nervously.

"Tiz no concern of mine," said the cook. "If zey don't answer ze door, simply place it outside so zey will know zey were served ze best."

Sorin relaxed as the man re-entered the kitchen without seeing them. "How exactly are we supposed to get past him?" he whispered to Lawrence.

"Obviously, with the help of our fine companion," said Lawrence. "Well? Do the thing, Lorimer. Go in there and bait them off." Lorimer sniffed and rolled his eyes before issuing out a few moderately loud squeaks. "Come on now. The night isn't getting any younger."

"You should probably do what he says," urged Sorin. "He is the expert. Wait, is that scurrying I hear?" He turned around and nearly jumped when he saw two dozen rats line up like soldiers in an army.

Lorimer then stood up on his two hind paws and began squeaking out what appeared to be a prepared speech. The awestruck rats stood by for the entire thing, then stood up on their hind paws and saluted before scurrying into the kitchen.

"He can do that?" said Lawrence. "How come we didn't know he could do that?"

"Thinking about it, he did command a bunch of rats when we brought him into town," said Sorin, glaring at the rat. "He really does like keeping secrets."

It only took thirty seconds for a commotion to erupt inside the kitchen. Screams cut through the slightly chilly air, immediately followed by footsteps and five furious cooks and one very disgruntled chef chasing after two dozen rats with various cooking implements.

"Let's go!" shouted Lawrence, leading the way into the kitchen. Aside from a few messes worth of dropped food, the kitchen was surprisingly clean. An entire pig was roasting on a spit at the back, along with three chickens, two ducks, and one quail.

At the back of the kitchen lay a larder, which happened to lead into a wine cellar inside the basement's first level. "Help me move these wine barrels," said Lawrence.

"What wine barrels?" muttered Sorin. "Oh, bother. Light!" A small pale-green sphere of illumination appeared in his left hand and floated out into place. Without his intervention, it would shine for five minutes before dissipating.

The wine barrels in question were mercifully of the normal variety, and thanks to his above-average strength for a cultivator, Sorin was able to move aside the rack in question in a matter of minutes.

"This doesn't exactly look like a servant entrance," said Sorin.

"About that…" said Lawrence. "I may have used this entrance once, so they sealed it off. But look: the door remains!"

Said door was made of pure metal painted dark green. A large glob of melted metal lay where a handle had once been. "What now?"

"This is only a minor problem," said Lawrence. "After all, we have you, don't we?"

"Hm…" Sorin eyed the sealed door and agreed that unsealing it was feasible. "No problem. But I'm still nervous about this. What's our exit strategy? How will we get past the cooks on our way out?"

"That…" Lawrence winced. "My plan only took us this far. I figured we could just run once we confirmed our guesses."

"From a bone-forging cultivator?" said Sorin. "Don't be an idiot, Lawrence. You're naughty, but you're not stupid."

"Fine, I do have a plan," said Lawrence. "And it involves Lorimer. Doesn't he have sharp teeth that can bite through rocks? We'll tunnel our way out!"

Sorin gave Lawrence a flat look. "Only if we want them to know we were here." Then he sighed and took out a pouch. "Looks like we can only rely on money to solve the problem."

"Poison?" exclaimed Lawrence. "You want to silence them?"

Sorin rolled his eyes. "Just get ready to scout the hallway behind this door. Leave the escaping part to me."