ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-ONE: Nightlight

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The timer Alden had set through his interface went off, but he dismissed the flashing light with an irritated thought and went back to staring at the page in front of him.

Focus yourself on calling the memory of light toward the symbol of the lantern, concentrating on the centermost point of the shape. Hold command of that point while returning your auriad to the release pattern of your choice. Some may be able to allow the auriad to fall for this spell, but having studied many castings, I deem it more effective to—

His second timer sounded. It was his tablet playing a series of especially annoying chimes at high volume, and he’d put it all the way across the room on top of the loft bed so that he’d have to move to get it. Alden set down Whan-tel’s Art and stood from the learning cushion, hurrying over to make the racket stop.

When he pulled himself up into the bed far enough to grab the tablet, he saw the note he’d stuck to the front: “EARRING OFF! I MEAN IT!”

“I really don’t trust myself at all, do I?”

Once he’d turned off the alarm, he pulled the clay spiral free of his lobe and place it carefully on the desk. With his mind only mostly stuck in his book, instead of entirely lost, he could see the signs of the day he’d had all over the room. Dirty clothes from a workout at North of North this morning, a smoothie cup from breakfast, the plate he’d eaten his lunch on, his books. His learning cushion had been brought over from Matadero yesterday before his meeting with Jeffy.

It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and Alden had done nothing but exercise, eat, and learn his new flashlight spell.

A completely fantastic day.

But he had a couple of errands to run, and he was expecting a delivery soon.

Or right now, he thought as a text from Yinuo arrived.

He asked the System to store his book and consoled himself with the knowledge that he was probably past the reading stage anyway. Thanks to the earring, he was sure he’d gotten the details down. Now he just needed to take the spell all the way to the end and see what happened. That would be his reward for taking care of everything else he needed to do.

He stepped out of his room to find the apartment quiet, as it had been all day. Lexi was spending Sunday with his family. Haoyu had only been in and out a couple of times. The slow cooker was plugged in now, so something was going on there. Alden was afraid it might be the “All the Thanksgiving leftovers together!” concoction Haoyu had mentioned trying out the night before last.

And Lute’s door was shut. Alden assumed if his roommate had returned home, he would have said hi.

How long is he going to stay gone?

Occasional glances at the headlines made it look like Aulia was taking a beating, but there were also people who were very into her new persona—one besieged original Avowed, dedicating her life to getting to the bottom of what had really happened and finding who was out to get her and her beloved Anesidora.

Her stunt with Orpheus and divesting herself of a bunch of property was clearly the start of whatever this was. She’d announced yesterday that she’d be giving frequent updates on her findings from “mission headquarters” onboard Libra, and she’d put out a call for people to apply for jobs on her new truth-finding task force. Then she’d shared a statement, purportedly written by Hazel, that implied she’d been pressured in some way by Jacob and his mysterious SAL connections to bring him with her to that birthday party. The statement didn’t actually say anything useful or concrete, and the kicker was that Aulia read it aloud like she had serious doubts about Hazel’s honesty.

The waters were so muddied that it was impossible to say whether it was all for show or if she was embarking on a real detective phase. But a lot of people were unhappy with the System, the Triplanets, and the Anesidoran government saying the destruction seemed to be the result of one individual’s unpredictable decision, and those people liked the idea of a powerful person chasing after a different answer. Nobody else seemed to be throwing themselves and their money in that direction as dramatically as Aulia Velra was.

Those people who don’t believe the official story should be the most doubtful of her, but she’s the only one giving them what they want. How does that shake out in the end?

He thought Lute should probably stop exiling himself…but he did understand. As soon as Aulia had started talking about Hazel and the party, Alden had held his breath at the thought that his own name might come up. He’d been glad that if it did happen, he had permission to hang out at Matadero where no humans or drones could get to him.

To reach the street where Yinuo’s driver had parked, he had to take a short jog, and she met him just before he got there. She was walking at a remarkable speed for someone in such high-heeled shoes, her white trench coat flaring out behind her.

“There are a couple of things in the trunk,” she said, lifting one of the garment bags she was carrying. “Black car.”

“I’ll grab them.”

In the trunk, Alden found the shoes he’d bought yesterday, boxed and bagged, along with a gift wrapped in blue with a big gold bow. He almost left it because he assumed it must be something Yinuo or the driver had with them for someone else, but he looked closer at the small attached envelope, just in case, and saw his own name.

A thank you for your business gift?

He shook it curiously a couple of times before he closed the trunk and went to join Yinuo. It didn’t weigh much.

“You didn’t have to come all the way personally,” he said when he’d caught up to her. “A courier would have been fine.”

“I’m here in case there’s anything wrong with the order,” she replied. “There isn’t, unless Tuck and I both lost our minds without noticing it this morning. But if you have time now, you can look over it all and make sure it’s right. I’ll fix any poor fits or fetch any missing pieces. Or you can call us whenever you need us.”

Back at the dorm, he led her upstairs and invited her to take a seat on the sofa while he carried everything to his room. She looked out of place there, but no more so than Esh-erdi had. And he did think checking over all of the important stuff was the right thing to do.

He went through it quickly, tried on the second pezyva they’d finished up for him last night, and decided everything was exactly what he’d asked for and expected. Then he took the gift with him back into the living room.

“It’s all perfect. I appreciate you both helping me on short notice.”

“That was nothing,” said Yinuo. “Our waiting list tends to be long this time of year thanks to all the holiday parties coming up in the next couple of months. But a lot of clients had to reschedule this week. Given the circumstances.”

Makes sense.

He held up the gift. “Should I open this while you’re here?”

“Whenever you want is fine. It’s just a small way to say we’re glad to have you as a customer. If you try it on, we can make sure it fits. But it will. I adjusted it a little for you.”

Alden tore the paper off and opened the box to find a teal shirt covered with a palm tree print. “A tropical shirt!”

“You did say you enjoyed them.” She rose to her feet. “That should be fine to wear on the Triplanets, by the way, if you’re doing something lighthearted and fun. It will look very celebratory and Earthly. But it should be a hit at parties because of that….and of course they’ll like the trees.”

“Thanks.”

“I think you made excellent decisions yesterday,” she said as she headed to the door. “Of course it’s great for me to sell you clothes, but on a personal level, I do like to know a young Rabbit is taking care with how they handle themselves out there.”

She was sliding her feet back into her heels.

“Making it clear that you are not disconnected from the world of wizards, as new Avowed often are, is good. There are some summoners who will treat you much more generously if you look like a person who might be sitting down for a chat with one of their colleagues next week. Your commendation sends that message better than Tuck and I ever could. But you won’t always be wearing it, and it can’t hurt that when you do, you wear it on something that makes it look like you know your way around their circles.”

“Yes,” said Alden. “That sounds…pretty right.”

Yinuo opened the door. “Have a good afternoon. And call us anytime.”

******

******

How do I beat an A-rank Speed Brute who’s already been punished once for underestimating my skill?

Half an hour after the meeting with Yinuo, Alden was pushing a cart down the aisles of the Wright shop, restocking on cordage and rope for class while he tried to figure out how to accomplish Max’s request. Though it pained him to admit it, Winston probably wasn’t stupid enough to self-decapitate again. At least not that easily. It would have to be a less obvious method to work.

He’s probably obsessively reviewing all my gym footage to plan out how he’s going to give me “a heeling” or some shit like that, too. So nothing I’ve done before will surprise him.

One possibility was upgrading his toolbox. He could go for an uncommon material that Winston really wouldn’t be able to see well enough to handle. Something much thinner than the fishing line, maybe with special properties.

But he didn’t want to. Beating Winston with a filament of enchanted spider silk or something would be pretty unfair unless the speedster was allowed to bring his own exotic weapon to the duel, and at that point, they’d just be fighting to see who could buy the best toy.

A cough from behind him made him realize he’d zoned out. He apologized to the woman who wanted to get to the shelf he’d been blocking and moved out of her way.

Winston has to get close to kill me. And he’s fast, but he’s not Finlay. Or even Mehdi. Maybe if I practice a little before we duel, I can actually be a threat to him with something fairly simple.

Finishing up the cordage restock didn’t take long. When he was done, he headed to the vending machine that sold temper spheres and bought three cartons. For experimentation purposes, not for MPE.

He wanted more practice pulling enchantments. Breaking the locking mechanism on the puzzle door at Apogee Artist Spaces could have been a lifesaver, but it had taken him precious seconds. He needed to get better at it, and he might as well make the practice do double duty. He would learn what every single enchantment on the temper spheres did, and he would try applying different combinations of them to other objects, hoping to discover something useful.

Making a cat toy hard to see for a few seconds wasn’t the best he could do, surely.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Browsing the other vending machines for any cheap enchanted things he could break made him wish a tiny bit that he’d taken a couple of the rings from the cottage at the art’h house. But most of them were so much more useful there, serving their intended purpose as convenience spells for nonwizard guests and knights who didn’t want to cast after affixations. Alden would just pay for this part of his education himself.

He stopped in front of a machine that held enchanted accessories—mostly rings and bracelets that he imagined were useful for Wrights working with sensitive or dangerous materials. He knew they’d be wildly expensive before he even checked the prices because the machine looked like it belonged in an amusement park instead of a professional environment.

That was a trend he had noticed on past trips to this store. Sleek, serious-looking machines held the more common items. But if he found one that had a sign that said Mr. Blingy on top, and it was covered in flashing lights, then even the cheapest thing in it probably cost more than he’d spent on Yinuo and Tuck’s services yesterday.

Alden assumed Mr. Blingy did something both painful and humiliating to anyone who messed with him.

He looked through the rings more out of curiosity than a desire to be in possession of any of their effects. None of them were made of the same translucent green material that the nonagon and its ring were crafted from. And though a couple were dark silver, they didn’t have the geometric patterns carved into them that Joe’s did.

Ro-den.

He wished Yinuo hadn’t drawn his attention to the idea of summoners treating a person differently because of their perceived connection, or lack thereof, to wizard society. It was obvious…or it seemed obvious now. But it made him wonder again about Ro-den, and what the wizard had been thinking during the time they spent together in his office, and what Alden might have missed or misunderstood.

It’s over. I’m totally done with him now. Just let it die.

His questions weren’t ones he could unravel with the information he had, anyway. Back then Ro-den claimed to have thought Alden was sent by his enemies as a trap, then to have decided that he was a stroke of good fortune.

He thought I must have some kind of wizard benefactor on Earth, one who told me what skill to pick without contracting me. A reckless one without any proper discretion, or one so powerful they could just do whatever they wanted without fear of consequences.

Someone interesting, who’d liked Alden enough to talk to him but not enough to really teach him, hire him for a longterm, or monitor him.

What did he think? Maybe that I was a way to connect with that powerful person? Or blackmail material he could use against them one day? Or a valuable thing that the powerful person had created and then abandoned on a whim…at just the perfect time for Ro-den to pick it up?

And he even offered to give me a longterm job himself, there at the end. In a year or so, he said, after he’d squirmed back into everybody’s good graces.

Wasn’t he afraid of pissing off my mysterious benefactor?

I guess he thought I was really on my own…or maybe that he could manage any wizard out there, if he had enough time to plan.

He told himself, again, to let it go.

In only the few days Alden had spent with him, in just the moments Alden had seen him, Worli Ro-den had rubbed shoulders or bullied—it was kind of hard to tell which it was in some cases—multiple important wizards. The parents of everyone he’d helped out of the mishnen situation. All those people he’d been gifting potions to left and right at the party. Ro-den was a smart, talented, energetic doer of illegal things. Alden’s chances of really understanding what the professor had once thought of him and planned for him, when the guy wouldn’t even talk to him anymore, were lower than low.

Brooding was stupid.

In an attempt to snap himself out of it, he reached into his bag to grab his tablet so he could take a picture of Mr. Blingy. He had no clue what Kibby would think of the vending machine, but she’d surely have at least one hilarious opinion.