“Sanctuary without threat of extradition,” Suri replied to him. “We’re fugitives: me from Dakhdir, him from Ilia.”
Ignas nodded slowly.
“He is lying to you,” he said firmly. “Because I know for a fact that Vlachia has extradition treaties with both of those countries. By the terms of those treaties, he MUST send you back to face justice for whatever crimes you may or may not have committed in those nations. I myself oversaw several extraditionary processes as Crown Prince. Suri – if you are a veteran of the syndicates, perhaps you know of Malak the Harpy?”
Suri’s expression shut down into an implacable poker face.
“He was one of the outlaws extradited to Dakhdir by my decree,” Ignas continued. “I believe the Sultir made an example of him.”
Suri jerked her head in a small, stiff nod. “He threw him into Al-Asad, and he used to complain about being sent back to Dakhdir from somewhere. But he never said which country, or which king.”
Well, shit. I looked between them, thoroughly disconcerted… and found myself thinking back to the mass attack by the Ilian Mercenaries in the University District. The guards had arrived late. The street had been empty, like an ambush. I’d put it down to the Mata Argis… but…
“If your safety is paramount to you, no wonder you refuse my money.” Ignas bowed his head and spread his hands. “In that case, I shall reframe my offer. In the course of my work with the Nightstalkers and other similar organizations, I have developed a strong network of smugglers, forgers, and other specialists. Let our schemes take their course, and I swear on my father’s blood that I will offer you and yours sanctuary.”
“How?” I asked.
He regarded me patiently. “I am not yet a King, but I am a ruler within a commercial empire that spans three countries. We are fully capable of assuring your safety. The Nightstalkers and their affiliates are mobile, discreet, and are not beholden to treaties with any nation, least of all the likes of Ilia. We could even arrange for you to travel to Meewhome.”
“Is it anything like the International District? Because if so, that’s not a perk. No offense intended.”
“It is a tropical archipelago, actually. Here: let me make this offer official.”
Ignas bowed his head, concentrating, and a new Quest notification jumped in the corner of my eye. When I pulled it over, my eyebrows lifted. This was not a type of notification I’d ever seen before.
Quest Alternative (The Slayer of Taltos): Stalkers in the Night
You have discovered that former Crown Prince, Ignas Corvinus the Third, is alive and well. After faking his own suicide and spending a year in exile, he has returned as an underworld figure in Artana’s profitable underworld fighting circuit. Not only that, but he claims his deceitful younger brother, Andrik, lied to you about his offer of reward and sanctuary.
Ignas is offering to match his brother’s rewards, on one condition – that you abandon the hunt for Kanzo, the Slayer of Taltos, and allow Ignas to execute the master stroke of his plan. His goal? To pull Vlachia back from the clutches of his brother, a heretic guilty of betraying his own blood for the sake of power.
Reward: 15,000 gold olbia (half up-front), EXP (progressive), +500 infamy in Vlachia. The Nightstalkers and allied Syndicate factions go from Poor to Good (Protected status).
Special: If Ignas becomes Volod of Vlachia, your reward may change.
Special: This is a co-current quest with the Slayer of Taltos. If you accept, you will have to fulfil the terms of one quest – Andrik’s or Ignas’. The other quest will automatically fail.
If Ignas succeeds in his plan to retake the throne, you will suffer no faction-based penalties for switching quests and will gain Very Good (1500) fame with both the Vlachia and Nightstalkers factions.
If Ignas fails in his scheme, you will suffer faction-based penalties from both Vlachia and the Nightstalkers and allied Syndicate factions.
If you reject this quest, you will suffer faction-based penalties from the Nightstalkers and attain a Nemesis (Ignas Corvinus).
Wow. Okay. I scanned the quest, lips parted in disbelief. Suri had a similar expression on her face. I’d figured out that Archemi’s AI adapted your questlines to your decisions as time went on – but I’d never seen anything like this. It wasn’t the quest forks that bamboozled me so much as the uncertainty, the ‘Ignas might win, or he might not’ aspect. I’d been playing the Slayer questline like a story, expecting it to be basically predetermined… but this ripped that notion out from under me. I’d forgotten something in all of this. The NPCs were smart enough – self-aware enough – to fucking outsmart and outplay each other.
“Well?” Ignas said.
“Wait.” I licked my lips and held up a hand. “I need to think about this.”
Suri gulped. “Me too.”
He shrugged. “Take your time.”
To my surprise, Suri actually drew in close to me, huddling up before PMing. “Shit, Hector… I don’t know what to do. He’s right about those extradition treaties, I’m sure, but I don’t have any reason to doubt Andrik. I haven’t seen a hint of him reneging on his deal. He’s a spoiled brat… but… do you believe this guy or not?”
“Hang on.” I reviewed the Special information again, frowning. “Karalti?”
“Huh? What is it?”
“Tell me that I’m smart.”
There was a pause. “Wat?”
“Encourage me,” I said. “Tell me I’m smart and I’m not a dumbass, and that the hunch that I have is something important.”
“Uhh… you’re super smart! You can hold onto me while flying, and… and you jumped off and hit the frog thing! And you’re a good dancer. And you fought off all those Mata Argis for ages.”
It was weird – but it helped, hearing this voice in my mind choke down the self-doubt that was clouding my intuition.
I messaged Suri again. “If Andrik gets his way, and we kill Kanzo, we are going to earn the wrath of the Nightstalkers and their allies, plus, there’s a chance that Andrik isn’t going to live up to his half of the bargain. If we support Ignas and he fails because Andrik stops his own assassination, we’re doubly shafted.”
Suri sucked on one of her teeth, staring at her own display. “Right. That’s what I mean. It’s a gambit.”
“No. It feels like a gambit, but it’s not.” I pressed my lips together. “Putting aside the fact that he killed someone I liked… The best objective outcome for all of us is that Ignas becomes king. If we choose to support Ignas, Ignas is more likely to become Volod. Players - Starborn - are agents of fate. Therefore, we get the maximum benefit if we intervene. So, probability-wise… I think we should throw in with him.”
The woman drew a deep breath. Then she nodded. “For once, you’re not a total dumbass.”
I suddenly realized that Suri was close enough that I could smell her perfume: sandalwood and honeycomb. Her shoulder was just barely touching mine. She looked up, and I met her golden-eyed gaze. Her lips parted a little before she stood back from me.
“You know, I never liked Andrik anyway.” Clearing her throat, Suri turned her attention back to Ignas. “You’re a ruthless son-of-a-bitch, Ignas, but you’re a sportsman. You wouldn’t have become the King of Cats if your word wasn’t pure fuckin’ gold. I’m in.”
“You killed one of my friends at Kobayaz,” I said to him. “Father Matthias. The way he and those other people died was terrible.”
Ignas’s confidence flickered. “I know. And I knew Petko. He was a good man… my friend, and one of our agents in Andrik’s inner circle.”
“We were as shocked as you were.” Ebisa shrugged her bony shoulders. “We don’t instruct Kanzo on how to take out any of his targets, except that they must be done in such a way as to mock the virtues of Andrik’s church and avoid harming civilians whenever possible. We certainly didn’t tell him to mutilate priests or destroy Kobayaz. When I talked to you, I only expected the Forgemaster to die. My scouts were in position to distract the guards in
case Kanzo was spotted. When they returned with tales of monsters and fire…”
Ignas bowed his head. “Indeed. We have lost control of him.”
“Yes.” Ebisa uttered a testy sigh. “Kanzo has automata the size of a kitten that can deliver a fatal sting on a man’s ankle. He did what he did because he feels nothing for the lives of others. His narcissism demands he make a scene.”
“Maybe you guys should have thought of that before.” I pulled the quest back into focus and hit Yes. “But for better or worse, I’m in.”
The elder Corvinus looked over us both, then let out a tense breath. “Good. You have my word, and I assure you it means a great deal more than Andrik’s.”
Chapter 37
“How do you feel?” Suri said to me, as the door to the tavern slammed behind us. “About betting on Ignas, that is?”
“There’s two things I hate more than anything else,” I replied. “Liars and bullies. Ignas doesn’t have clean hands, but if what he told us is the truth, then Andrik needs a good drop-kicking. Plus, you know how Ignas was talking about him being a part of some cult?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, this is complicated, but bear with me. So, you know that global notification we had yesterday morning? A guy named Baldr Hyland becoming the Grand High Poobah in Ilia?”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“Baldr is Starborn, and he tried to murder me in cold blood over that broken spear of mine,” I replied. “He’s also probably possessed by the ghost of a fucked-up Architect. The how and why isn’t stuff I want to discuss out here… but the short version is that Architect, Ororgael, is a bad seed. He’s also the Architect at the center of a cult, and he’s been known to meddle in world affairs.”
“Like empowering a weak-willed prince to usurp the throne from someone who would stand up him?” Suri nodded slowly. “Possible. Kind of a stretch, though. It’s all circumstantial. He could be in a cult to Rusolka on the side, or a demon. We don’t know.”
We exited the gate, and I smiled when I spotted Karalti at the iron lattice table. She was sitting upright on her haunches, her tail lashing stiffly behind her as she watched one of the Meewfolk rogues dexterously switch a series of three cups around and around. When he stopped, he spread his fingers.
“Which cup do you think the die is under, oh ssscaly one?” He asked her. “One, two, three?”
Karalti’s eyes narrowed. “Inside your cheek.”
The Meewfolk’s chipped and pierced ears flattened back. He put a palm against his chest, clearly affronted, but leaned away in alarm as Karalti ducked her head down and put her snout in close.
“Cheeeeeek.” She let her jaws part, showing him two rows of fire-polished, backswept fangs.
The other guards laughed as the Meewfolk spat the die he’d palmed from the shell game onto the table. Karalti giggled.
“What happened to watching Cutthroat?” I pointed over at the hookwing. She was lurking near a crooked tenement building on the other side of the cul-de-sac, growling as she paced back and forth along the edge of the weeds that grew beside the wall. Her head was snaking constantly, nose darting in and out of the grass. The feathers of her chest and winglets were slaked to her body with filthy city mud.
“Oh, she’s fine. She’s been hunting rats,” Karalti said. She bobbed her head to the bouncers and got to her feet, shaking herself out in a leathery rustle of wings. “She’s too big to catch them, but that doesn’t stop her from trying.”
“Cutthroat! Come on!” Suri called out to her.
Cutthroat stood tall and turned her head, quorking in her throat when she saw who was calling her. She was about to trot over when there was a rustle in the grass. She spun back around, chomping her jaws from side to side as she charged into the weeds… and ran herself right into the side of the building with a dull thump. Dirt and chips of brick and stone came raining down.
“Oi! Get over here!” Suri stalked over as the cross-eyed hookwing shook her head and smacked her teeth together. When Suri gathered her reins, Cutthroat turned her head and nipped at her arm – then squawked when Suri slapped her muzzle away. “Oh no you don’t. You bite me, and you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life, you bloody great chook.”
“See? They’re a good match!” Karalti lashed her tail happily as I got on board, watching Suri rant on as she climbed up into the saddle. “All Suri has to do is dance and puke for her–”
“Don’t,” I said. “Just let that train of thought stay at the station, thanks.”
We rode out of the cul-de-sac, and only once we were clear of Ignas’ hideout did I remember something – Rin. I whistled to Suri. “Hey – Rin sent me mail. Can you keep an eye out for surprise assassins?”
“Sure.” Suri jerked her chin up in acknowledgement.
Stress built in my chest as I went to my mail and opened up the message from Rin.
“Hi Hector.” The window narrated the letter to me in Rin’s voice. “I’m okay thanks to your warning. I got out through the Cellars (>__<).Can I trust you with something? Best regards, Rin.”
I couldn’t help but smile at Rin’s old-fashioned formality. “Hi Rin - Sorry for the delay: we were in a meeting. And sure.”
There was a few minutes pause while we slogged our way back toward the canal bridge. Just when I thought she’d backed out, I got a new alert.
“Don’t tell anyone yet, but I’m in contact with Kanzo,” Rin messaged. “But after what happened at Kobayaz, I’m having second thoughts. What he did was really messed up and our people, the Mercurions, are suffering in the Tanners' District. He keeps trying to justify it, so… I’m willing to cooperate and have him arrested, okay? Can we meet somewhere public? I’m desperate to talk to someone who isn’t crazy (;__;).”
I winced. Perfect fucking timing. “We shouldn’t meet. P.M is safer. I don’t know if we’re being followed, but there’s a good chance that Andrik is following us somehow. Look, Rin… our quest has changed a lot. I’m willing to talk to you about it, but I don’t think we should meet face to face. Let me and Suri find somewhere safe to settle in, and we can set up a party chat.”
“I know it’s a risk, but I’m lonely and scared, and I really just want to be around some people I know. I think Kanzo might do something even more terrible. He’s crazy, Hector. I need to be somewhere else. I can be discreet, I swear. Maybe we can go to lunch? I don’t eat any more, but… you know. I still think about food. It would be nice to see some people eat |(;A;)/”
I sighed. Fuck. There was no mistaking the terror and fatigue in Rin’s voice. “Okay. Give us fifteen minutes or so. We’ll meet you in the Main Square, location TBD. I’ll make coordinates once we settle in.”
She sent me back a heart emote. Aww.
We were just passing out of the gate leading into the Meewfolk ghetto. I tapped Karalti’s shoulder, steering her in closer to Cutthroat and Suri. “Hey, Suri - would you like to go out to lunch with me?”
“What? She asked, voice lifting with surprise. “Now?”
Karalti tensed under my hands.
“Yeah. As in, let’s go eat a meal and meet up with Rin. She’s okay, and she found Kanzo. I told her we’d RV in the Main Square, where she can blend in with the few Mercurions who are outside of the Tanners' District.”
“Oh. Right.” Suri flushed, turning her face away from me. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”
Even I wasn’t dense enough to miss Suri’s disappointment.
“It uh... I mean, I’m not asking you out just so we can talk to Rin,” I said quickly, tripping over every other word. “I mean, I also just want to take you out to lunch for you, if you’d like to go out with me? For lunch. You know. Food. For two humans... you know, hanging out and talking about royal conspiracies together?”
Slowly, Suri nodded. “You know, actually, I would like that.”
Wait. She said yes? I couldn’t believe my ears. But was this a yes-yes or an ‘okay’-yes? Regardless, it was like one of those corny
movie moments where the sky opens up with sunbeams and a chorus of angels. My back broke out into a nervous sweat. It was weird – I hadn’t felt like this around Rutha.
“Great! What uh, what food do you like to eat?” I stammered.
“I know a good kebab place off Osteria Utca. Like, really good.” Suri chuckled under her breath. “Cum-your-brains-out good.”
“I thought you said sharing food was gross,” Karalti grumbled.
“We’re not throwing up on each other, Karalti. We’re having lunch.” I thought back. “Fuck. She’s flirting with me. What do I do now?”
“You tell her that Karalti is the most beautiful queen in the world and you don’t need anyone else. Just Karalti.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “We’ve been over this. I thought you were okay with the human-human relationship need?”
Suri arched her eyebrows, then frowned in hurt confusion. “What? You don’t like kebab?”
Oh fuck. “No! No way, I love kebab!” I squeaked. “Karalti just asked me a question, sorry. Do they have beer at this place?”
“’Course they do. Every restaurant here has beer.”
“Thank god.” I patted Karalti on the neck. “Come on, Tidbit. Try and remember what we talked about last night,” I said to her.
Karalti began to mutter under her breath like a pissed-off parrot, which sounded remarkably similar to a demon talking through an old radio.
We broke out of the squalor of Cat Alley and into the traffic leading into the Market District. It was going on one p.m, the busiest time of day, and the Main Square was packed with people enjoying the clear hot weather. Hawkers hawking, farmers selling produce off cats. Jugglers were performing for knots of people while pickpockets prowled. People streamed in and out of the great market, the church, the many small stores clustered around the fountain sculpture of Taltos in the middle of the plaza.
“Suri, do you know the address of the kebab joint?”
“Grazi Utca 32.”
I quickly relayed our destination to Rin, and she sent me a thumbs up. Once that was taken care of, I returned my attention to Suri.
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