Chapter 52 – New Developments

To her credit, they only got lost once on the way out, and not for that long. The bog lion barely fit through the narrower parts of the catacombs. It had to weigh several hundred pounds, but Cassius didn’t appear to be straining at all, unlike his apprentice, who was trembling with the effort of his lift object spell. Come to think of it, the spell resistance probably made it harder to carry the first apprentice.

“I could just carry him over my shoulder,” Mirian offered, but Two just shook his head and cast a meaningful glance at Cassius.

If going past the students with four professors on the way down to the catacombs had caused the rumor mill to start turning, coming back out with an injured student, a skeleton and a bog lion corpse was like lighting the rumor mill on fire. A crowd gathered at the plaza, including Bertrus. “Was that… inside the spellward?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cassius said casually. “Three, get the priest. Again.”

Seneca asked, “Iliyia, what do I tell him? What do I tell any of them?”

Torres was silent except for the grinding of her jaw.

It was Cassius who prodded her next. “Your oath is to Baracuel first. To the crown, to our republic, and to its people. No oath sworn can be greater.”

“And yet, in all this time, I have managed not to break any oaths. Not since I was a child. But I suppose the woman I swore it too is dead.” She took a deep breath, and looked at Jei, then back to the skeleton. “This is Adria Gavell, of the Arcane Praetorians, sworn defender of crown and country.”

“But Adria’s still alive,” Bertrus said. Then, “Oh shit.”

“Tell the magistrate,” Seneca told Bertrus. “And any guards you know can be trusted. Not the captain,” she added. “Do you know where the pretender is?”

“Then who…?” Obviously he didn’t.

“Go,” Torres said.

Bertrus started running.

“Roland is cool!” Mirian shouted after him. Then to the professors, she said, “I’m missing something,” Mirian said. “Who’s Adria? I’ve never heard of Adria.”

“Adria Gavell was in charge of security for the project,” Jei said.

“Oh,” said Mirian. Then, “ohhhhhhhh. Oh wow. You all… alright, see, you should just tell me everything. Akana Praediar knows literally everything about your project. Gods above, they’ve been spying on it for… three and a half years? Did you know they send an army over it? An entire army group. And two airships, like you’ve never seen. Big ones, packed with artillery. Cassisus, you’d love them. If they didn’t kill us all, that is.”

“I was not privy to this part of the tale,” he said. “You are… part of the Department of Public Security? Undercover?”

“I should just start telling people that. Don’t they have a special signet ring, though? No, I’m just a regular, ordinary time traveler, of the common variety.”

Cassisus blinked. His two conscious apprentices looked at each other.

Seneca shrugged. “I don’t really have a better explanation at this point.”

Jei was looking at Mirian. Not just looking at her, but looking into her. She understands, Mirian realized. It was one thing to have it implied the future didn’t matter, that nothing you did mattered. It was another to believe it. She believes it now.

The crowd continued to gather, with the bog lion being the biggest talking piece. As a healer finally arrived for One, the medly of students and townsfolk continued to talk over each other.

“…ought to have a plebiscite! Mayor Wolden’s incompetence could get someone killed!”

“It already has, clearly.”

“…are the spellwards failing? Wait, how did it come from Bainrose? It’s a library…”

“…is this going to interfere with registration? I really need to get into the third year of arcane fundamentals…”

“…look at the size of that thing!”

Mirian let it wash around her like a river. It was comforting to see so many people acknowledging things weren’t normal. For most of the cycles, she’d kept everything to herself, and ridiculousness of everyone going about their daily lives when armageddon was approaching had felt maddening.

Then, the conversation changed.

“…what’s that?”

“Is that smoke?”

The crowd started to turn and point.

Mirian dropped her satchel. “Watch that for me!” she called to the group, then started running. The column of smoke was coming from the southeast of town, by the station. Before she got there, she already knew which building it would be.

She arrived panting and out of breath. Sure enough, the spies’ secret hideout was already burning. She’d arrived just in time, too. The firefighting sorcerers were already heading in, their wagon parked in the street. The shimmering fields surrounding them indicated they were prepared for heat and smoke, but they were oblivious to the real danger.

“Wait!” she called. “There’s a trap in the entryway!”

The first sorcerer stopped, hand inches from the inner door. He gave her a puzzled look, probably wondering who the weird student yelling at him was.

“Turning that handle opens a trap door. Stand–whew, sorry, been doing a lot of running today. Stand back from the room and use a force spell to turn the handle.” When they didn’t, she added, “This is the Akanan spy hideout. Someone set it on fire to burn the evidence. Going through the window is probably safer.”

“Are you an agent or something?” the second sorcerer asked.

“You know what? Sure, that’ll make things easier. By order of the crown, I order you to not go through the front door so you don’t mangle yourself. Please.”

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“I don’t think she’s actually an agent,” the first sorcerer said, but he at least came out of the entryway.