20. Adjusting

Two months passed, and Alistair still had not solved the situation he had created the day he saved Lauren.

He had considered leaving her at Town Hall more than once. The thought usually came when he was tired, short on time, and irritated by how much effort the whole situation demanded. But even then, he never truly meant to do it. He had interfered by choice, so the consequences were his problem as well. More importantly, he knew too well what would happen if she fell back into the wrong hands after escaping. They would punish her harder than before, question her about him, and turn her into a danger to everything he had built. She did not know his name or his class, but she knew his face and that he lived in Verevain. That alone would be enough to disrupt his plans.

All of that remained assumption. He had no proof the people behind the trade even knew exactly who she was. In fact, the lack of visible reaction disturbed him more than if they had started searching openly. Hedra behaved normally. No one snooped around the road to the port, and no one seemed interested in the missing couple. A simple investigation should have shown that they disappeared halfway between the town and the port. They had left the Split Cup and never reached their appointment.

Either someone was investigating very carefully, or the operation was so loose that a few missing pieces did not matter.

He preferred the second possibility by a wide margin.

Still, two months had passed since he killed the couple, and he felt he had gained only a little ground in almost every direction. Lauren remained hidden in the forest because he still had no safe way to bring her into town. His investigation had produced two names, but he had barely seen the owner of the second one, Davin Roe, and acting against a man like that would require more reach than he currently had. That brought him back to his own progress, which had also been slower than he wanted. He trained most nights and still failed to raise another stat. His experience gains had also started to slow. Repeating the same work again and again no longer paid as well as before.

Fortunately, his progress was finally about to shift.

He was just finishing the night’s starbloom gathering when the Guide pulsed through his mind.

The level took effect immediately. The strain of maintaining his active clones dropped considerably as the accumulated experience settled into him. The growth in WIS widened his ability again, and the three free points left him with little dilemma this time. He already knew what he needed most.

For a few seconds he simply stood there with the flowers in his sack and let the change finish settling through him. No dramatic brightness spread through the world around him. The change was practical instead. His thoughts stretched farther without thinning. The pressure of holding multiple bodies loosened. The edges of clone control, once so tight and narrow, now felt easier to manage. Seven clones. Eight bodies, counting the original. Even before testing anything, he was already estimating the increase in duration. If the growth followed the earlier pattern, each clone should now last around two hours, or somewhat less at worst. Either result was a massive improvement.

Later that day, while Alistair’s original body walked toward La Table d’Or for his day work, Falsehand approached a warehouse to apply for an open Worker position.

He could have sent a Worker clone to ask for the job, but he judged that Acting would help more during the hiring itself. If the warehouse accepted him, he could swap in Worker for the actual labor afterward. The Worker clone waited nearby under a cloak, ready to step in if needed.

The warehouse yard was busy without being too chaotic. Carts stood half-loaded near the entrance. Men carried crates through the wide doors. Someone was shouting about inventory, and no one looked especially happy to be there.

A bulky man with a flattened nose stood near the entrance watching applicants with the tired suspicion of someone who expected to be disappointed. He looked Falsehand over once and said, “You here for the loading position?”

“Yes.”

“What class?”

“Worker.”

The man grunted. “Can you carry, stack, and keep your mouth shut?”

“Yes.”