Captain Pirta was not happy about what Ana had to say.
“Run me through that again,” the captain demanded coldly, towering above the three humans across her desk.
Ana fought not to show how tired she was. Not physically, and not in the sense that she was sleepy, but emotionally. Mamtass had been willing to let her convince him; Ana’s gut feeling was that he even wanted her to. Speaking to him, as a religious authority, had still been emotionally draining. Now, here she sat, in front of the highest authority of any kind remaining in the settlement, and she had very little left to give.
She gathered herself, schooled her face, and said, in the calmest, most even voice she could muster, “I want you to arm and train every person in this community who can possibly be spared. And then I want to take them out into the splinter to save what remains of the expedition, and destroy the source of the feral humans surrounding us."
Pirta turned to the priest on Ana’s left. “And you’re willing to go along with this lunacy, Mamtass?”
“I am, for the most part, Captain Pirta. The Wayfarer has made her will clear: She wants her faithful to support Miss Cole. Miss Cole herself claims to have spoken directly with my goddess, and I think that she’s being honest. Both about speaking with the Wayfarer and what the goddess told her, and in what she herself desires, which is to save as many of our lives as she can. The only part I disagree with is the forced conscription. However, I myself will be volunteering for the militia, and when the time comes I will accompany Miss Cole outside the walls. I will be encouraging my congregation to do the same.”
Pirta’s demeanor, which had been cold to start with, became downright glacial as Mamtass spoke. She leaned forward, looking down on the three of them, and her tone promised terrible consequences if they dared go against her. “This is absolute madness. You would throw away the lives of countless people, and I will not have it.”
“And yet, that is what I must do. What we must do, if we want a chance to survive,” Mamtass said, not yielding an inch as he looked up. “The Waystone has failed. No deliveries are coming through. We only have so much food, Captain.”
“Two failed deliveries does not mean that the Waystone has failed entirely. We’ll try again tomorrow! Besides, would you have me believe that a threat that was completely unknown two weeks ago now spells the doom of this entire splinter? That Captain Falk and nearly forty combat Classers are dead or trapped, and that the only solution is to take a bunch of non-combatants who have never held a weapon before and throw them at our enemy? No. No, I tell you! I am in command of this outpost, and no matter how much I respect you, Mamtass, I will not see it fail on the word of a priest and a level 9 Companion!”
Despite everything, Ana found it oddly respectful that Pirta, livid though she was, didn’t reveal her actual Class. Surely she knew?
“It is not on our word, Captain,” Mamtass replied with forced calm. “It is on the word of the Wayfarer.”
“So you say.” Pirta turned to Ana, resting one slender hand on the desk before her and leaning down. “I can tell that our dear priest believes you. That does not mean that what you say is true. Personally, I’m inclined to believe that you’re mad, since you’ve just asked me to risk the lives of every single person in my charge. You wouldn't be the first to crack when responsibility is suddenly thrust upon them.”
“Ana is not mad,” Messy snapped. This was the first thing she'd said in the meeting — she’d spent most of the meeting glancing nervously toward the door — and she said it with enough heat that Pirta pulled back.
Messy grabbed Ana’s hand, holding it almost possessively. “With all due respect, Captain, you don't know her! I’m sure that you know every little thing she’s done since she came here, but you don’t know her. You have no idea how frayed her nerves have been ever since you asked her to train us. You can’t imagine how nervous she was about talking to Mamtass today—”
“Messy!” Ana protested, feeling heat rising up her neck. But she didn’t pull her hand away.
“I practically had to drag her!” Messy continued. The only sign that she’d heard Ana was to squeeze her hand tighter. “And getting her here tonight was even worse! But in both cases she came, because she wants us all to live, dammit! She’s risked her own life to save others how many times now? Three? Four? It’s what she does. She keeps people alive. And that’s what she’s going to do now, with or without your help. We will be going out there, with as many people as will follow us. We will break through that line of crazies and demons, and with the Wayfarer’s guidance we will find the remaining expedition members. And then we’ll find the people responsible, and we’ll put a stop to… whatever they’re doing!”
The office was silent after Messy’s impassioned outburst, until Pirta asked, in a less cold but no more agreeable tone, “And what are they doing?”
“Summoning people from outside the splinter,” Ana replied. “And driving them insane. Infecting them with whatever Jancia has. I don’t know why she’s not like them, but that’s what they’re doing. And they want to destroy the splinter.”
There was a knock on the door.
“I am in a meeting!” Pirta snapped in its direction, but the door slowly opened nonetheless.
To everyone’s surprise except Messy, Touanne strode into the room. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “But I really think that I— that we need to be here. Tellak?”
Tellak joined them, and with her, to everyone’s evident surprise, was Jancia. The Lumimancer’s curly blonde hair was a matted mess, and her normally ruddy skin was pale and waxy. Tellak was gently leading her, but no one could have missed that her hands were not only bound together, but wrapped in many layers of cloth, making it look as though they were bandaged. The way that Tellak stood was also impossible to overlook: one arm wrapped around Jancia’s waist, and the other hand settled on her shoulder, making it impossible for her to, for example, suddenly lunge at anyone.
“Mistress Touanne,” Pirta said, far more kindly than how she’d just been speaking to Ana, Messy and Mamtass. “While it’s always a pleasure, I don’t recall inviting you. Why do you say that you should be here?”
“Captain, Miss Mestendi told me. She came by to tell us that Miss Anastasia would not be joining us to practice her Shaping tonight, and we got the reason out of her. The full reason.”
Ana sighed. She could guess what that meant, and a look at Messy, the way she flushed and looked away in embarrassment, more or less confirmed that her more-than-friend had spilled everything.
“As to why—” Touanne gestured to Jancia. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Miss Versil’s ailment.”
“I have. What does that have to do with anything? And why is she not in bed, recovering?”
“...okay,” Jancia mumbled, staring blankly ahead. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m fine. Don’t mind being here, feel fine, it’s okay—” Suddenly she twisted as far as she could with Tellak holding her, looking at Touanne. There was a yearning in her eyes, something desperate that reminded Ana of some of the junkies she’d done her best to avoid on the street. “Can we go now? Can we go to the Waystone? I just need to touch it. Just need to hold it, just a little…”
“Later,” Tellak said softly, leaning down toward Jancia’s ear. “We’ll take you later, okay?”
“Okay. You promise? Okay, okay, okay…”
As Jancia's mumbling faded, Touanne spoke again. “Jancia is here because I believe it would be best for you to see her for yourself. As you can see, she is physically fine, but her mind… she is obsessed with the Waystone. Every conversation we try to have with her turns toward her wanting to go to the Waystone, and I doubt that it’s eluded anyone in this office that the current malfunctions in the Waystone, it not consuming ambient mana as it should and not allowing either sendings or deliveries, started just after Jancia first managed to touch it. Captain, I believe that the infection she carries has two purposes. The first is to cause severe… confusion—”
“You mean aggression,” Pirta stated.
“That as well,” Touanne admitted with clear discomfort. “The second purpose is, I believe, to destabilize the Waystone, in order to bring about the collapse of the splinter. I believe that this is related to the drain on the victim’s Connection. And—”
For the first time that she could remember, Ana heard Touanne raise her voice as the captain tried to interject.
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“— this is not only conjecture based on observation. I have in my possession a book, lent to me by Miss Anastasia. I have been doing my best to translate it these past three weeks. The book contains rituals to summon individuals meeting specific criteria, and to infect them with something it calls ‘the void plague,’ the symptoms of which match the ‘crazies,’ as Ana calls them, and Jancia’s, to some degree. Captain, I am here as an officer of the Bluesky Guild, as a resident of the outpost, as the premier Life-mage of this splinter, and as your friend. I have to tell you: I believe that we will face an ever-growing horde of enemies, if nothing is done. This is not a storm that we can weather. We must—”
Touanne’s voice hitched. She was too kind, too caring. Even in the face of slow, certain death, she couldn’t say it.
“We must take the initiative, and fight our way out,” Tellak said for her.
Touanne couldn’t even agree. She just nodded. “I have some hope that I might be able to help the afflicted,” she said. “I can see the shape of a ritual to reverse the damage in what I’ve uncovered so far. But the summoning and infliction rituals are too easy. Whoever is doing this, they can grow their army too quickly for us to wait and hope. We must… act, to save ourselves.”
“You should also know, Captain,” Tellak said seriously, “that several of the temporary officers, myself included, have been discussing an attempt to save those trapped in the farms that still have not fallen. We believe that if the most experienced of us move quickly, we should be able to clear the ‘crazies,’ as Ana calls them, surrounding one of the farms, grab the inhabitants, and return to the outpost before the main force of the enemy can react.”
“Dear gods,” Pirta said, sitting back in her chair. “You’re all mad. It’s not just these two, it’s all of you. You’re mad!”
“We’re fighters. We want to fight back, and we’re unwilling to see another farm fall,” Tellak corrected. “Half of them are gone already. That’s two dozen good people dead. There’s a pregnant young woman at the Servemel farm, the first of two expected to give birth here this cycle. You know what she represents, Captain. If she were to be killed, it would be devastating to morale.”
Pirta sat back in her chair. She sighed deeply, and ran her slender hand across her long face. “Go,” she whispered. “Go get yourselves killed, or rescue that girl. Whichever. If you succeed, we can discuss expanding the draft and organizing a sally.”
“Uh, thank you, Captain,” Ana said, looking between the others. Touanne and Messy looked as surprised as she felt.
“Just go,” the captain said, leaning back and closing her eyes.
Outside, they gathered before the Waystone. It was a subdued gathering, considering the failed deliveries. Jancia stood gazing up at it, silent and with yearning in her eyes as Tellak held her in place. She didn’t struggle, but she turned her head to ask, “Please?”
“Not yet. You’re sick, you know that,” Tellak said, pulling her closer. “And we think you made the Waystone sick, too. We need to get you well first.”
“Oh.” Jancia turned her gaze back to the obelisk, and a few tears trickled down her face. “Okay. Later? You promise?”
“I promise, Jay.”
“Okay.”
Ana finally asked the question that had been keeping her silent since they left the office. “All right. What just happened there? Why did the captain agree?”
“The balance of power shifted,” Mamtass said. “Or rather, she learned how it already lay.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that she was unlikely to be able to use the militia to stop you,” Tellak said. “The militia are all acquainted with you, but they know you mostly as a strange woman who makes them do uncomfortable things. If Pirta ordered them to stop you and anyone with you from leaving the outpost, most of them would obey. But the way the militia is organized, every group is under the command of an officer that the members respect. When I told Pirta how the officers feel…”
“She saw that the militia might very well take Ana’s side,” Messy finished for her, comprehension dawning on her face.
Tellak nodded. Then Mamtass spoke up, adding, “And don’t forget: the temporary officers are all Delvers. Half of them are members of my congregation, dedicating themselves to the Wayfarer outright. Three more, Miss Tellak included, I’m happy to say, frequently come to give thanks after a successful outing.”
“Just so,” Tellak agreed. “Mestendi told us about the response she got to her prayers and why you, Mamtass, agreed to speak to the captain. I can only assume that any officer who’s prayed lately would have received the same answer.”
“She could stop me,” Ana said. “She’s some kind of fighter, isn’t she, besides being an administrator? At her level, she could take me down.”
Tellak shook her head. “She could, certainly. She could have handled any and all of us in that office quite easily, I should think. But that would undermine her position, at least with the militia. The officers will soon know of your intentions, and if she tries to physically restrain you at any point it will get out, and I doubt that they will take it well.”
Ana nodded thoughtfully, then asked, “What about you, Tellak? Touanne? What do you think? Am I crazy to want to mobilize the whole outpost?”
“I can’t even think about it,” Touanne said weakly.
“I think it is an act of desperation,” Tellak said, “but the situation is desperate. And who am I to go against the word of a goddess, if she says that our enemies will only multiply?”
“You believe me? About speaking with the Wayfarer?”
“You’ve given me no reason to mistrust you, and I don’t think that you’re insane. So yes, I believe you, as remarkable as your claims are.” She paused for a second, then smiled, the barest movement of her mouth, a slight mirthful narrowing of her eyes. “Besides, you radiate frustration and worry whenever anyone questions you, and now you shine with relief. We really need to work on that one of these evenings.”
She said that, but then Jancia started straining against her in earnest, making a low, unhappy, keening noise. Tellak focused, and Ana could feel the air thrum around the Bulwark as she toughened her skin. “We’d better get Jay away from the Waystone, back to Touanne’s,” Tellak said softly. “She sometimes lashes out when she gets unsettled like this.”
“Please make sure to come by tomorrow evening,” Touanne said to Ana. “And you’re welcome as well, of course, Miss Mestendi. There are some things I’d like to talk about. You’re welcome now, of course, but they can wait for a day.”
“Yeah, tomorrow, then,” Ana said. She felt emotionally wrung out. It was stupid, she knew that. So Pirta didn’t like or really trust her now. Whatever. Ana didn’t care about that. But she had a visceral reaction to anyone in authority, and had for as long as she could remember, and having to deal with both Mamtass and Pirta in the same day was just… she felt relieved at the partial success, but also hollowed out. She could force herself to handle a serious conversation, or whatever it was Touanne wanted, if she had to, but if she had an alternative she’d take it.
“Good night then, ladies,” Mamtass said, bowing slightly. He touched the Waystone reverently, and made his way around the side of the temple. The others split up as well, Touanne and Tellak taking the reluctant Jancia south, Ana following Messy north.
“Do you think Mistress Touanne will be able to help Jancia?” Messy asked worriedly as they walked.
“I don’t know. In time, maybe. She seems to think so.”
“I really hope that she can. Jancia’s… I’ve never really spoken to her. She bought a necklace from us once, but that’s it. But now she’s like a confused kid. If that’s what a few scratches from one of those crazies can do, it’s terrifying. And we’ll have to fight them!”
“We’ll just have to not get hurt. And maybe if you get healed right away it doesn’t take,” Ana said, but she was only half there. Something else had been occupying her thoughts. “Hey, Mess?”
“Yeah, Ana?”
“Why do you go out of your way for me like this? Why do you like me?”
“Besides your roguish good looks and a figure that does all kinds of things for me?”
“Besides that.” Ana didn’t even have it in her to snort at the flattery, and Messy seemed to pick up on how serious she was being. With two quick steps Messy was in front of her, stopping them both in the street.
“Ana.” Messy put both hands on her shoulders and locked eyes with her, then took a little breath as Ana’s Arresting Gaze stunned her for a moment, before continuing. “I’m at the very least infatuated with you. I don’t mind admitting that, to myself or to you or to anyone else who might ask. Part of that is desire, and I accept that you can’t return that. But a bigger part of it is that you saved my life.”
Right, Ana thought. That makes sense. She just feels like she’s got a debt to me.
“And before you get any funny ideas, it’s not because you saved my life, specifically. It’s because of how you did it. The selflessness. The way you took every risk you could afford to rescue and protect not only me but everyone else in that Delve. And then I heard that business with Waller when we got back with Jancia, how you just stepped in without hesitating, never giving an inch. Just took him down, without injuring him, and got Deni and Dil out of there.”
That was just my damn Class forcing me, Ana thought. That’s not me.
Messy smiled. “Then you forced yourself to go to the temple with me, just to make me happy, and I figured, maybe there was something there? And since you came back from your hunting trip with Ray, you’ve been…” She stopped and really thought about it. “It’s been a week now, right? Since Ray helped me ambush you at Petra’s? And I thought you were going to tell me that I’d been chasing the wrong girl, again, but instead you just… opened up to me. Told me how… different you are, and your fears about how that might affect me. You wanted something from me, but not if that meant stringing me along. You were so concerned about me and my feelings that you put some of your most personal shit out there for me to see, so that I knew exactly what I was getting into. Do you know how rare that kind of honesty is? And you’ve been nothing but kind and honest to me ever since. Not entirely open, I know that. You have secrets that you still want to keep, and I don’t blame you. So do I. But I’ve never felt like you held back or took the easy way out, and I very much hope that’s a good sign for the week to come, and, if we make it, the one after that, and the next, and—”
Ana kissed her. Lightly, just a touch of her lips to Messy’s bottom one, but it was enough to stop Messy in her tracks.
“Thank you,” Ana whispered, pulling Messy in close and resting her face among the braids in the crook of Messy’s neck.
Messy, taken aback, stroked the stubble at the back of Ana’s head before finding her voice again. “Whatever for?”
“For liking me how I am.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Messy said, stroking her head. “You have no idea how it breaks my heart that you think that’s something you need to thank me for.”
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