Chapter 11 #2
Except they were going to fix it. Calya had sworn she wouldn’t leave until she had answers.
Solutions. Proving Wembly’s deception would be difficult, for she imagined the crafty old man had taken steps to cover his tracks.
But if she could expose more of the Coalition’s wrongdoing, if they were engaged in even more illicit activity than had been previously shown by Eunny and Ollas’s victory against Bioon Song, Calya would be…
well, not a hero, but it would be newsworthy.
Helm Naval’s reputation would gain favor amongst Graelynd’s fickle upper crust.
Her father would have no excuse to deny her ability to lead the company. She could fire Wembly herself.
Her daydream was interrupted by Anadae’s groan. “The Coalition. Wonderful. We should’ve brought an army.”
“And instead, we have one Sentinel of the Valley,” Calya said, then glanced at Ollas. “One and a half.”
“Hey!” Eunny cried at the same time Ollas smiled and said, “Fair enough.”
“Are all of the mages left here Coalition plants?” Calya asked, hands forming fists on the table.
“Not all,” Ollas said. “Some of the assistants are from the university, and there are a few grad students around here doing real work. But Treen and Aylton, no. We don’t know how many are under the Coalition’s thumb, by choice or force.”
“Why haven’t they gone to the authorities? Involved Central?” Calya asked.
“Lot of ships coming in not flying flags,” Zhenya said, an uncharacteristically hard edge coming into her voice. “The capital’s been dead to the Landing for a century at least. They operate… differently, out here.”
A reality the Coalition would happily exploit as it suited them.
“How do you know Froley?” Calya asked.
Zhenya ducked her head. “I studied abroad out here during Initiate levels, and helped them with some… stuff.”
Eunny snapped her fingers at Calya. “Focus. What do we do next?”
Anadae leaned forward, gaze intent. “What did you find in the desk?”
Calya withdrew the discarded note from her cloak pocket and spread it on the table.
“‘Lady S’ is probably my mother,” Eunny said.
Lowe held the paper close to his face, eyes narrowing.
“What is it?” Calya asked.
“The mage who contacted us was named Matthias.”
“Same handwriting?”
Lowe shrugged. “It’s been a long time, and I only saw the letters once or twice, but it seems likely.”
“Okay, so we try to find out more on this Matthias guy,” Eunny said.
“Lily, the assistant that showed us around when we were storing the tea,” Ollas murmured, setting another scrap of paper on the table next to Calya’s find, “she mentioned previous trials done at the different sites. Drew me a map.”
“When?” Eunny asked. “I didn’t—”
“She waited until you were helping Zhen,” Ollas said soothingly. “I think she was spooked by your relation—”
“Yeah, I get it.” Eunny slumped back in her chair, lip curling. “We should split up again.”
“Froley said there’s a village south, toward the southern forest,” Zhenya said. “They’ve had a bad time lately with illnesses. Asked if we could look in on them.”
“Sounds like our thing,” Eunny said, nudging Ollas. “We won’t need to refresh the tea container charms for a few days.”
Anadae examined the map, fingers roving over the dots indicating sites in the surrounding area.
She pointed at one to Ezzyn, who nodded.
“We’ll take this one,” he said, tapping a spot farther out toward Graelynd’s Hook.
“There’s another SU cohort stationed out that way, doing restorative work on the coast. I know the team lead. ”
Calya pointed out another dot on the map. “This one looks close. I’ll— We’ll ask around.” She nodded at Lowe.
As they stood up, preparing to go their separate ways, Ezzyn added in a low voice, “Be vigilant, everyone. Eren Galwynd is a Rhellian grovetender who’s spent the years since the war doing restorative work back home.
” He looked around at all of them, expression grave.
“He shouldn’t be here at all, much less helping to run a Coalition project. ”
“For the mundane among us, which I suppose is only me,” Calya said grumpily, “what exactly should I be looking for?”
“You’ll know,” Ezzyn said, tone dark. “If you do, find me. No discussion.”
The group separated, Anadae tugging her dour-faced prince back toward the patisserie case while Eunny, Ollas, and Zhenya went back outside.
Snippets of conversation floated back to Calya as she and Lowe strolled after them, with words like “greenhouse” and “dirt” and “it’s soil, love” punctuated by Eunny’s long-suffering groan.
Despite it being early evening, the dark of winter had settled while the group met. Lamps lit the street, and Calya smothered a yawn behind her hand as exhaustion crept up on her.
“Find him, he says. So he can burn everything to a crisp.” She yawned again. “Not to sound like an old lady, but—”
“Calya,” Lowe said, fingers gentle upon her shoulder as he steered her back across the street toward the inn.
She stopped at the base of the front porch, eyebrows rising in question.
A dimple formed in Lowe’s cheek as the corner of his mouth curved up. “It’s the end of the day.”
She scrunched her nose in a pout. “Is it—”
“Caly!” Brint’s loud voice drew their attention. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Brint,” Calya said, doing her best to keep the animosity from her tone.
“Hey, about what happened earlier with Morris—er, I mean, Mayor Krowe. I feel awful about it.” Brint dragged his hand through his dark blond hair, a contrite smile on his face. “Let me make it up to you over dinner.”
“Apologies, Brint, but I have business to discuss with Mr. Lowe,” Calya said sweetly. “You know how it is.”
Brint eyed Lowe, expression frosty. “I see.” When neither said anything more, he sighed. “I won’t keep you, then, but find me later, please? It’s important.”
She doubted that last part very much, for it was the kind of thing Brint would add on to ensure he got whatever it was he wanted.
He stomped up the few steps to the inn’s porch and disappeared inside, letting the outer door close heavily behind him.
“We need to do something about him,” Calya muttered. “He’s going to be a problem if we don’t preoccupy him with something else.”
“Agreed. However—” A smile teased at the corners of Lowe’s normally serious mouth. “I believe we had a deal.”
“I don’t recall.”
“Show some grace, Calya.”
“I have none.”
“I believe in you.” The teasing smile grew into a smirk. “A compliment. Something nice.”
She made a face at him. “You don’t strike me as the type to want a nice woman.”
“I don’t, and you’re not. However, we had a bargain, and I think I’ll find this enjoyable.”
“Yes, well… all right.” Calya squared her shoulders, giving Lowe a lofty stare, eyes raking over him from head to toe. “I like that you’re not handsome.”
He blinked. “That I’m not— How is that a compliment?”
“It is from me.” Calya gave him a falsely coy smile. “So many of the men in Central are just walking rectangles. Pretty enough, but bland.”
I feel like I can be free with you and still be me, unchanged, and you seem to want it.
But she was teetering dangerously close to the edge of liking that feeling too much.
To the point where she might give the feeling a chance to grow, or, Goddess break, speak the words aloud.
Speak them into being. Because even if the words and feelings were honest in the moment, what of when she changed her mind, as surely Calya would?
She didn’t have the time and certainly not the desire to deal with the messy fallout that would inevitably come after.
“You’re… refreshing,” Calya murmured instead.
She brushed past him and up the steps. “I’ll deal with Brint in the morning.”