Chapter 153 – Old Mentors

Mirian needed to talk to both Jei and Viridian extensively, so she made sure to create new initial conditions to throw Troytin off. First, though, she continued her surveillance of Specter. Even after discovering her real name, she couldn’t think of the horrible woman as human. Her code name was far more apt; she was an evil spirit, utterly devoid of life, and possessing the body of another.

The switch between Specter acting like Adria and acting like herself was as quick as a glyph-switch getting hit. One moment, she’d be at a friendly dinner with the local arcanists, smiling softly and complimenting the waiter on a new vest; the next, she was walking the streets with her face utterly blank, empty eyes gazing about like a bog lion surveying its prey.

By switching to ‘Micael’ early, Mirian got access to Torrian Tower. That also meant continuing her tryst with Valen again so she could use her room. Once, it had been a welcome distraction. Now, she just found herself going through the motions like an actor in a stage play. When Valen slept, she found herself watching her sleeping form and feeling pity. The young woman would never move past her impulsive hedonism. She would never change or grow. She was stuck, like a potted plant starved of sunlight. No amount of tropism would let her straining leaves escape the dark prison she’d been put in.

Everywhere in Torrviol was like that. People retracing old tracks they’d worn into the cobblestones, not aware they’d taken that path a hundred times. The first year girl who cried on the bench in the plaza on that first day was still crying. She would never stop. The leaves of autumn were constantly falling as the world descended into a winter that it had never left.

Mirian felt the melancholy clawing at her; there was still no end in sight.

All I can do is push through. Too much is at stake.

Once in Torrian Tower and past most of the wards, it was a simple matter to sneak a hidden remote spy spell into the meeting room.

There, Specter became something halfway between Adria and herself. She had a light touch and soft words, but there was a sternness behind them, and Mirian could feel the woman pulling at puppet strings as she talked with the Archmage.

“Adria, I need the break-ins to stop. You said you could talk to the Syndicate. You said you could lean on the guard. I’ve given you time to do both. I don’t need to reiterate how sensitive this issue is.”

“I understand,” she said quietly. “I was able to talk to my contacts down south. They’re rounding up the Syndicate thieves on their end, then we can crack down on the issue here. But we have to be smart about this. Cutting the tail off the chimera will just get the beast riled up. We have to cut off the head first.”

Mirian could see the tension and frustration in Luspire. “Do you have any idea how bad this makes me look? If the Akanan Universities find out—”

Specter kept her voice calm, infuriatingly so in her opinion. “They won’t. You keep the professors from talking, and I’ll keep the guard from publicizing anything. I know Mayor Wolden. I can make sure he leans on the local broadsheet. As long as you keep things quiet, no one will find out. Just wait a little longer.”

Making him complicit in her operations, Mirian knew. So that’s how she was ‘taking care’ of him. I bet she’s the one dangling the position in Akana in front of him in the first place. After all, if Troytin can manipulate Archmage Tyrcast, it’s because he’s already involved in the conspiracy somehow.

Then Mirian saw it; a letter from Vadriach University sitting on the desk. Luspire glanced at it, then said, “I’m beginning to doubt this offer is even real. Tyrcast is now talking about coming here.”

There was a brief moment where confusion passed over Specter’s face. Suddenly, the conversation wasn’t going according to plan.

“He… did? Perhaps he’s finally seen how important the research you’re doing is. Being able to report on it himself would let him do a lot more to support you in front of the board.”

“You didn’t know about this?” Luspire said, raising an eyebrow. “You must be slipping in your old age.”

Specter smiled, or attempted it. “May I see the letter?”

Luspire glanced at it again, since it was sitting in plain sight on the table. “Oh, I don’t have it with me right now. It’s in a pile somewhere. I’ll have to dig it up when I’m a little less… harried.” He smiled back at her with the same sincerity.

“Well, I’ll do what I can to lighten the load. I don’t know if anything can be done to speed up the operation, but you know I always have your back,” Specter said, rising to leave.

Then, Luspire looked around. “Do you feel that?” he asked.

Mirian quickly ended the spell. The meeting was clearly over, and there was no point pushing her luck. She went back to the glyphwork Endresen had assigned her.

Hmm. It’d be interesting to see how Specter reacted to new events and a Troytin less reliant on her. But also, it would be far too dangerous.

That night, Specter died in her bed again.

***

“May I come in?” Mirian asked.

“Ah. Micael, was it?” Viridian said. “Of course. Office hours exist for a reason.”

“Great. I have some questions—they’re maybe a bit strange, but they do relate tangentially to the lecture.”

Viridian brightened somewhat. “Often the strange questions are the best ones to ask. Go ahead.”

Mirian took her seat. “Can stone moles briefly move through the fourth spatial dimension?”

The old professor cracked a smile and leaned back in his chair. “What a fascinating question. I can’t say I expected it. You seem to believe it’s possible, so let’s hear why first.”

“I was reading about the development of the magical telegraph. At first, it was assumed that stone moles burrowed deep enough that they avoided the effects of the spellward barriers. However, extending the spellward down a meter did nothing to deter them. An experimental line that was surrounded by fired clay tubes also was breached, and a brick trench covered by a thin spellward barrier also did nothing to stop them. The elevated pipe finally worked, though that one got eaten by mushroom spores. The assumption was the stone moles had found a way to chew through the hardened materials, but the researchers never found the gap they entered in.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Circumstantial evidence, then. Valid, but not conclusive. It certainly raises interesting possibilities.”

“There’s other myrvites that can do it. Moon flickers for sure. Nightmelders, probably.” She thought about how to phrase the next part. “And there was a Labyrinth expedition team who reported creatures that could jump from one direction but arrive from another. It can’t be teleportation because any creature attempting to teleport to catch prey would consume magnitudes more energy than it would receive. But just like we can jump or climb to move in the third dimension, perhaps the ability to ‘jump’ in the fourth dimension is more common than we thought among myrvites.”

“Certainly an intriguing hypothesis. I think you should test it.”

“I… what?”

“I can get you a population of stone moles within the week,” he said. “You already know what they like to eat. The next step is designing puzzles that can only be solved by a fourth-dimensional jaunt and putting the food on the other side. I’m willing to support you in experimental design.”

Mirian furrowed her brow. A practical test… and with a burrowing myrvite. A way to explore Apophagorga’s weakness without getting near the beast.