by T. A. White
The Kairi were easy to spot with their distinctive coloring and dress. They were wearing outfits similar to the one Umi had worn the first time Tate had seen her. The fabric was silk with jewel tones and distinct patterns that told a story. Some were flowers, others a version of fish, a few had simplistic renderings of mountains and forests. Each was created with an intricate eye to detail.
The women wore a cross between a dress and a robe with several under layers that added a contrast to the more vivid patterns in the outer layer, all held together with an intricately fashioned sash at their waist.
The men’s formal clothes were understated in contrast. They wore flowing pants and oversized jewel toned vests with blouses underneath.
The humans wore the fashions of Aurelia, similar to what Tate and Dewdrop wore, each gown trying to outdo the other.
The last group was dressed much more simply than the first two, in clothes that Tate envied. The women wore flowing dresses as light as air and the men wore fitted leather pants and earth toned shirts. It was a style that allowed movement and didn’t prevent its wearer from escaping if the situation warranted.
Tate examined the gathering for the familiar faces of Jost or Danny, ignoring the way the comfortably attired group examined her as if she was potential prey and how the Kairi eyed her with disapproval.
“Your former captain wasn’t kidding when he said this situation was a powder keg waiting to happen,” Dewdrop said in a hushed voice.
Tate glanced at him. “Why do you say that?”
“All three of the main races are represented here. Kairi, Silva and humans.” He nodded at each faction.
Tate sighed. This was going to be more difficult then she imagined.
“Do you see Jost?”
There must have been over thirty people in the room. Even then there was space to spare. It didn’t feel cramped at all.
One of the Silva approached, moving with a long limbed stroll that reminded Tate of Night. “This is a private gathering. You’ll have to find another room.”
Tate glanced at the man. He had amber eyes similar to the Silva Tate had encountered yesterday. His hair was the color of fall with tawny gold, russet browns, and auburn.
“She’s here at my request,” a deep voice said from behind Tate.
They turned to find Jost, Danny at his side, standing in the doorway. She hadn’t heard them come in.
Jost cleaned up nicely. The scruffy pirate was gone, leaving a refined gentleman in his place. His hair was tied at the nape of his neck and he was clean-shaven, wearing formalwear complete with vest and a complicated tie.
Danny’s hair was slicked back from his face and his beard groomed. He looked like a bodyguard gussied up to mingle with his betters. His eyes caught hers and he gave her a half smile coupled with a sly wink. She rolled her eyes back at him.
The man who’d approached Tate gave Jost a nod. “Mediator. We’ve been waiting.”
Jost raised one eyebrow, his face amused.
“The witness has still not arrived,” the man said after an uncomfortable pause.
Jost turned an amused set of eyes on Tate. She shrugged. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself yet.”
She also hadn’t been sure whether she needed to be introduced or if she could just hang back where no one would notice her.
“Ah. Let’s take care of that.” He turned to the man. “We have no need to wait for a witness as my lovely companion will do quite nicely.”
The man looked startled at the news and gave Tate a closer onceover.
Jost stepped forward and took Tate’s hand in his, tucking it into the crook of his arm and escorting her past the stranger.
They became the center of attention as they made their way into the room. Danny and Dewdrop followed obediently behind them.
“Your friend did a good job finding such a fine dress on short notice,” Jost murmured.
“I didn’t realize you were so obsessed with what I wear.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “I understand lady’s fashion.”
She just bet he did. Jost was considered something of a lady’s man. She’d like to say he had a lady in every port, but he rarely returned to the same woman twice. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him in a long-term relationship. He did travel, which made relationships difficult, but so did everyone on his ship. Many of the men talked about the sweethearts they left behind. Constantly. No one knew where Jost had left his heart.
Tate gave him a look that said she got his insinuation and found him ridiculous anyway.
“What is it that you need me to do?”
Tate hoped he’d be more specific. She already felt lost and the evening had just begun.
“For now, just listen. If you see anything suspicious or something doesn’t seem right, report to me your findings.”
Sounded easy enough. She could be an observer. It’s what she’d done on his crew. Observe until she knew how to blend.
Tate noticed the disdain with which the Kairi eyed her as they circulated.
“You didn’t tell me the Kairi would be here,” she said.
“They’ve laid claim to the site, saying it is on their territory so any find should belong to them.” Jost spared them a glance. “They do seem to rather dislike you.”
Tate gave him a look. He knew why.
“Don’t worry. They won’t do anything. Their first Ippo agreed that you acted in good faith and were not to be retaliated against.”
“Somehow I don’t think they got the message.”
“Yes, well even they can’t legislate feelings, much as they would like to.”
“What’s the Silva’s stake in all this?”
“They say the site was built by their people during the war with the Creators. They claim it has significant religious meaning to their people and that their ancestors are buried there. They want it covered up and left alone. The Academy’s scholars are the ones who discovered it. Their work was funded by the nobles and merchants who each want their piece of the pie.”
Jost hadn’t been kidding when he said this situation was perilous, especially if it contained the kind of artifacts Jost and Ryu feared it did.
“For now, just mingle. Listen. Learn. Find out the major players. Tonight is a meet and greet. We won’t get to the major negotiations until tomorrow. This is just the opening ceremony.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Tate told him.
“Your role is mostly passive. You’re mainly here in case something goes wrong.”
If it was passive, they wouldn’t have need of her.
They walked to the middle of the room where Jost drew her to a halt. Someone dressed in the same uniform as the butler approached with a tray of drinks. Jost took two and handed one to Tate.
At her side, Dewdrop muttered, “You’re not the only one who is thirsty, you know.”
“People in your position don’t drink in this type of social situation,” Jost said through a smile as one of the humans approached.
Dewdrop gave a harrumph.
The human was a middle-aged man who had let his extreme wealth affect his weight and health. He had the look of someone who had never denied themselves any craving and who had never walked further than the waiting carriage out front.
“It is so good of you to come, Mediator,” the man fawned over Jost. “We hope you’ll bring these negotiations to a satisfying conclusion.”
“It is my hope to find a path that can meet all interested parties’ needs.” Jost gave the man a noncommittal smile.
Tate took a sip of her drink and watched. The man smiled, but Tate would wager that wasn’t what he really wanted to do. There was a shadow in his eyes, the slightest pursing of lips. Oh yes, this man wanted Jost to kick these others to the curb and find unilaterally in the Academy’s interests.
She was betting he was one of the merchants or nobles who had funded the discovery.
Another man approac
hed, this one tall and thin and wearing a pair of glasses over a hawkish nose. He fit her vision of an academic much better than the first man.
“Ronald, I was just talking with the mediator about satisfying outcomes,” the first man said.
Ronald’s eyes were cold and chilly with disdain. “If the mediator had any honor at all, he’d immediately find in our favor and do away with this farce of a negotiation. The Silva and Kairi have no right to this discovery. They’re trying to benefit off others’ hard work.”
“While you are trying to profit off the ancestors of another,” a smooth voice with a hint of an accent said.
A woman in a dress the color of spring leaves approached. Her wavy hair was left down. The brown and blonde mass reached the middle of her back.
Tate took a sip, waiting to see what this new face added to the proceedings.
“There’s no proof that the Silva had anything to do with that site,” Ronald scoffed.
A man drew to a stop beside the woman. Tate’s eyes sharpened. She recognized him. It was Lennart, the voice of reason the day before.
He inclined his head in a nod of acknowledgement to Tate before turning to the others.
“I believe your own methodology says that simply because you have not proved something does not mean a hypothesis is wrong—only unproven for the moment.”
“Yet you’re the ones who’d like us to throw a bunch of dirt on it and never benefit from the knowledge just waiting to be discovered.”
“You are the only ones who question this. Our ancestors clearly state that it was built by them. Our dead are buried there,” the woman said calmly.
“We only have your word for that.” A Kairi male stepped into the debate—his black eyes flicking over Jost and lingering on Tate.
She gave him a respectful nod.
He turned back to Jost without acknowledging her. “The site was found on our territory. They had no permit when they discovered it. The law states that any discovery reverts to the owners of that land.”
“That territory is highly disputed,” Ronald said, his face showing annoyance. “Your people haven’t established a clear claim in the courts, making any need for a permit irrelevant.”
Tate watched as the three groups devolved into a heated argument over which claim trumped the rest. All of them were passionate about their assertions. She just couldn’t tell whether that passion stemmed from the promise of power and wealth or whether it came from a legitimate claim on the site.
She didn’t envy Jost his task of mediating an acceptable peace between them. From her spot, the task seemed impossible. None of them gave any evidence of being willing to back down or compromise.
“Just like you to be more concerned about your dead then trying to understand our history,” Ronald sneered at the Silva woman.
Her face flushed and her eyes flashed as a growl built in her throat.
“Tala,” Lennart said in a careful voice.
“Just like your people to be willing to spit on another’s ancestors to further your own agenda,” she said, the growl turning her voice into a thing of nightmares.
The Kairi sneered, the expression looking right at home on his elegant face. “Your species has always resorted to threats and violence to ensure your own interests.”
A sheen rolled over the woman’s eyes, much like the reflection Night’s eyes were capable of in the dark. “Better than the underhanded tactics that your ancestors have employed through the years.” To Ronald, she said, “You’d better keep a close eye on your discovery otherwise you might wake up one day to find your artifacts stolen away in the night by those without honor.”
The Kairi man stepped forward, his hand going to his hip.
Tate intercepted him, grabbing the knife before he could.
“Is this a magic sharpened blade?” she asked, holding it up to the light. It was a stiletto, narrow and tapering to a needle-sharp point. An assassin’s tool. Meant for stabbing. She was surprised the Kairi had it, much less thought it would be a good idea to use it, even as a threat. “I’ve heard stories but never known someone who could afford the obscene price.”
She twirled it in her fingers and flicked it at Jost.
He caught it and gave an impressed twist of his lips. “Good eye. Looks like it’s from the Kilgor armorers.”
Tate was impressed. The Kilgor Armory was legendary for its craftsmanship. Its weapons were on every mercenary, soldier or adventurer’s wish list. Even Tate had heard of them.
“What is the meaning of bringing such a weapon to a mediation?” Tala asked in a scathing voice.
“I’m allowed protection,” he said in an icy tone of voice.
“From what?” Tate asked.
“From us,” Tala replied, her eyes turning flinty. Lennart held himself stiffly as he glared at the Kairi.
Tate looked them over.
“You don’t seem that threatening to me.”
Ronald snorted. “You aren’t looking closely enough.”
A soft sound reached Tate’s sensitive ears, like skin moving against skin. Tala raised her hands, a set of sharp looking claws tipping each finger.
“Unless they’ve been declawed and defanged, the Silva are always considered armed. Their bodies are their weapons,” Ronald said, his voice taking on a lecturing tone.
“The act of declawing is illegal in all territories except the Kairi’s main island,” Tala said with a cool glance at the Kairi man.
Danny stepped forward before Tate could ask why. “Declawing means amputating each finger at the first knuckle. The act has been banned since the peace treaty that brought them into the empire.”
Tate could see why. It sounded inhumane and they hadn’t even gone into what they meant by defanging. She didn’t want to know. Visions of amputated knuckles were already fighting for purchase in her brain.
“Either way, you agreed to attend the mediations unarmed,” Jost said. “I will be keeping this blade until the end of the talks.”
The Kairi man looked disgruntled at Jost’s decision but did not try to argue. He gave him a half bow and turned on his heel to walk back to his people.
Jost raised his voice to address the rest of the room. “Any others carrying weapons should send them home. If I find anyone else in possession of one, I will ban that person from these discussions. No matter who it is.”
He gave each of the faction leaders a meaningful glance. Tala nodded willingly. Ronald and his portly friend followed suit, though their nods had the faintest hesitation to them. Tate was willing to bet one if not both had some type of weapon on them.
Ronald’s fingers hovered over a pocket in his coat before moving away. Tate had a feeling that weapon might not be a blade but something else.
At this stage, it was a suspicion she couldn’t prove, and she couldn’t call him out without something a little more concrete.
“I suggest you hand it to someone in your party to be taken to your quarters.” Jost gave the gathering a friendly smile that had an edge of threat to it. Tate had seen it many times while on his ship. It was the smile he gave to make you think you had a choice, when in reality, if you didn’t hop to, he was going to come down on you in a painful reckoning.
Seeing the butler at the door, Jost said, “Dinner will be served in the dining room in ten minutes. I trust you will all join me.”
He nodded at the gathering and walked out of the room, Danny following on his heels. Tate lingered, wanting to see who chose to disarm themselves.
The Silva moved to the door without hesitation. Tate guessed they really did consider their bodies enough of a weapon for not even one of them moved to disarm themselves.
Several of the academics handed weapons, all small enough to be carried undetected in their clothes, off to one of their own. The human sponsors involved in the discovery did the same, their daggers jewel encrusted and short enough that Tate doubted they’d be a danger to anything bigger than her hand.
The Kairi had followed
their lead, picking one of their younger members and loading him down with weapons that looked a lot more threatening. Tate didn’t see any more stilettos, but she did see a lot of weapons meant for slicing. Some as long as her arm. The loose garments evidently made the perfect hiding spot.
More people handed over weapons than she would have thought. She kept an eye on those who walked out of the room, making a note of those who acted like they were unarmed. Those were the ones who didn’t take Jost’s words at face value. Their mistake. Saviors help them if Jost learned they were still armed. They’d learn really quickly that Jost didn’t mince words. If he said he’d throw them out of the negotiations, he would, probably after giving them a pretty thorough beating to remember their mistake by.
When the last of the stragglers made their way to the dining room, Tate followed as Dewdrop shadowed her.
“How much you want to bet that Jost discovers someone didn’t disarm themselves before dinner is over?” Dewdrop asked, leaning towards her.
Tate snorted. “You must think I’m stupid. I saw the same things you did.”
At least three people left that room armed that Tate saw. Probably more, given how effectively the Kairi’s clothes were at hiding weapons.
Dewdrop made a face. “You would think they’d at least be subtle about it.”
The obvious offenders were all academics.
“They probably have no idea how to hide a weapon.” Tate had one strapped to her thigh and a thin piece of wire tucked into her bodice. That also didn’t take into account the stakes she had jammed into her hair masquerading as hairpins that looked like blue flowers.
Dewdrop had several knives sheathed in a belt around his waist. His uniform’s jacket hid them nicely. She wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t seen him putting it on right before they left. She also knew he kept a blade in his right boot.
“This is going to be a long night if we have to disarm them one by one,” Dewdrop complained.
Tate silently agreed.