Chapter 17 – Preparations

The rest of the day went about the same as it had. Geoarcanology reminded her she needed to go look up those maps she’d found in Bainrose again, and Artifice Physics was the same combination of high philosophy and practical arcane physics it had been the first time.

She kept her eyes open during lunch and between classes, looking for any sign of the spies. Nothing.

Valen hadn’t said anything to her in Artifice Design. Though she hadn’t left her name with the Couriers, she’d checked a few times to see if the governor or commander of Fort Aegrimere had sent any sort of reply. Of course not. And she’d heard nothing from Viridian of course.

Mirian had heard the rumor she started once or twice, though it had morphed. Now the guards were part of a secret crime syndicate that was running Torrviol, and they’d murdered one of the deans, though no one could say which one. Was that Valen’s work? Or just the natural tendency of rumor to morph into unrecognizable nonsense?

That meant she had basically two ideas left: One was to run around in the streets yelling that the Akanans were coming to kill them all. She was sure that would go over well. The other was Nicolus. He knew people. The problem was, he also knew that everyone was trying to manipulate him because he had power. Or they just thought he was handsome.

Classes went well on Secondday. Then, it was time for the next study session. First study session you’ve been to, she reminded herself.

She didn’t bother making a show of not knowing which room to go to. No one was looking for that kind of thing, so what was the point. When she opened the door to room, though, it was just Sire Nurea.

“Oh, sorry… am I in the wrong room? I’m looking for Xipuatl and his friend.”

That got a raised eyebrow from Nurea. “You’re in the right room. I’m Sire Nurea March. I serve the family of Sacristar. And therefore, Nicolus.”

“Oh,” Mirian said. “So… he’s a big deal?”

Nurea muttered, “He’d certainly like everyone to think that, wouldn’t he?”

They chatted amicably, with Mirian relearning all the things she’d learned about Nurea so she wouldn’t have to try to remember what she knew and didn’t know.

Finally, Nicolus and Xipuatl showed up. “It’s not on the shelves,” Nicolus said as he dropped the three other textbooks he was carrying onto the table. “Someone already checked it… oh, there it is, on the table. Nurea, did you…?”

“She did,” Nurea said, nodding toward Mirian.

Mirian looked at the copy of Spell Engine Tolerances and Mana Flow Maintenance, Revised Edition in front of her. She’d forgotten that they hadn’t even assigned each other books to study and report on yet, and she’d just picked up the one she’d done last time without thinking. “Oh. Sorry, I… thought it’d be useful.”

“Well! It just means you’re prepared. I’m Nicolus, by the way.” He held out his hand, which Mirian shook. There was a sort of perfection to his handshake that was downright suspicious. Mirian suspected he’d practiced it far more than he would ever admit to.

“Mirian,” she said.

Then they got right to work. After all, when they weren’t bickering, both the boys were quite studious. After they divided the readings up again, Mirian sat back and made her move. “So have you heard about all the weird stuff going on in Torrviol?” she asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nurea get very still.

“Yeah, something about break-ins?” Xipuatl said. “Seems weird they haven’t caught them yet.”

“Is there any basis to it?” Nicolus asked. “Last year it was going around that a group of bandits was ambushing people on the road, and it just turned out that some first year had seen a military patrol on their way to the Frostland’s Gate stronghold and didn’t realize they wore fur coats over their uniforms in the winter. He was from one of the southern cities and had just never seen patrols. Or snow, for that matter.” He laughed.

“I thought it was nonsense, but I’ve had a maintenance issue for like two weeks now and they just… never showed up. The office is closed. And I heard two of them went missing.” Mirian leaned in close, then whispered, “I even saw someone skulking about on the roof, wearing all black.”

“Really?” Nicolus said. “Hmm.” He looked over at Nurea, though he didn’t say anything to her.

“It’s weird that the Academy has been totally silent on it too. Like, remember when Pl—” Mirian stopped herself. She had been about to say ‘remember when Platus died,’ which hadn’t happened yet. “—when those students went missing briefly in the Mage’s Grove?”

“Maybe they’ve looked into it and it’s nothing. They’re probably being more cautious now so that they don’t look like fools, like they did last time,” Xipuatl said.

“Do you think it’s one of the syndicates?” Nicolus asked.

“This is going to sound stupid but… what are the syndicates? I heard someone else mention them.”

“Organized crime groups,” Xipuatl said. “Usually they smuggle dangerous magichemicals to evade taxes or regulations on them. Some move drugs around, or smuggle alcohol. Certain gangs might get into power in a city and run a protection racket, or otherwise squeeze money out of a corrupt local government. The Syndicates are all over Baracuel, vying for territory and power. Occasionally, the Crown Bureau will stamp a group out, execute a bunch or throw them in a prison, but that usually just means a rival moves in a few years later and the cycle starts again. The Syndicates usually stick to the big cities, though. Small towns just don’t have enough money running through them to be worth it.”

“We don’t really have that out east,” Mirian said.

“Yeah, it’s more of a west-Baracuel thing. They’re mostly descended from old guilds that got overthrown and went underground, warped by a few hundred years of historical circumstance. Then they got used in the Unification Wars and had some legitimacy, then after the wars they were outlawed again. Except…”—Nicolus glanced at Nurea again—“some of the noble families work with them. No one ever admits to it, of course, but it’s how a Syndicate can get their hands on the levers of power. So they become another board game piece to move around in the halls of power.”

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“Why not make them legal, if everyone is using it? Then they don’t risk getting caught,” Mirian said.

“If the Syndicate is illegal, it means the person controlling them always has leverage over them. They can always expose them to arrest. And they use the Syndicates for doing the kind of shady stuff that would get a corporation’s crown charter revoked,” Xipuatl said.

“Huh,” Mirian said. “That is not what we were taught in history class.”

Nicolus laughed at that. “You get a very different education in Baracuel if you’re expected to hold power. You have to know how things actually work, or you’ll be made a fool.”

Mirian frowned. Anyone was supposed to be able to hold power in Baracuel. It was a republic. They had elections and everything. That meant everyone was supposed to know how it worked, because they either were going to be an official or a voter. That’s why she’d had to take civics class in secondary school! She also realized the conversation hadn’t gone the direction she intended. “Do the Syndicates ever work with other countries?”

Nicolus said “No” at the exact same time Xipuatl said “Yes.”

“Okay, which is it?”

It was Sire Nurea who answered. “It’s the wrong question to ask. Power doesn’t care about the borders of a nation.”

“Huh,” said Mirian, not at all sure she understood. But she had an agenda to push, damnit! “Okay so… what if that is all going on? How does someone put a stop to it? I don’t really want Syndicates running around kidnapping or killing people in Torrviol.”

“That depends on how much you want to stick your neck out. If innocent people are going missing….” Nicolus looked again at Nurea. “It also depends on who’s pulling the strings. It doesn’t quite make sense that they’re making a big splash, usually you want to keep a smuggling operation quiet. Torrviol is known for myrvite organ smuggling, and not really anything else.”