Chương 70: The Road Now Taken

Amberlin would have liked to sit and chat with her friends all evening, but there remained much to be done before the sun went down. While Havlo went off on his own business, she took the rest of the group over to their new assignment on Eltershay Avenue. Along the way, she introduced them to Rufus and Rhianna at the animal shelter, where she also dropped Boots off so he could hang out with the other animals. Having some friends to play with, she figured, would keep him from wandering off in the night.

It was too bad Ella was still out rounding up strays and the others didn't get to meet her. She noticed with satisfaction that the repairs inside the militarized zone had been completed. The workers had taken extra care on the buffer gate so that the hinges wouldn't fail again like last time. All through the day, in every part of the bay, the residents had been hard at work, doing their part in the defense of their home. This ranged from the military to the mundane.

Sure, walls were rebuilt, towers restocked, armor repaired, weapons sharpened, and arrows fletched. But also flour was milled and baked into bread, boots resoled, and lanterns made. On the street corners where children played, buskers plied their trade. Amberlin made her way toward the governor's manor. It wasn't hard to find, since she just had to follow the avenue to the fanciest part of the city, and from there look to the top of the nicest hill she could see. It was hard to miss.

The address given by the governor's aide led Havlo to a small cottage that seemed out of place on a street dominated by luxury establishments and a popular temple. He vaguely recognized the buildings from his last visit some two hundred years ago, but the businesses inside had changed. The restaurant where the mayor had entertained the Apostle was now a dance studio. Seeing this brought on an uncomfortable feeling of loss, which he pushed aside when he knocked on the cottage door and a pale thin man answered.

"Scholar Juan?" he asked.

"It is I."

"I've been told you're the foremost expert on the history of the peninsula."

"Then you've been well-informed." Juan stepped aside to allow him to enter and then shut the door behind him. The inside of the cottage felt oddly chilly. The dim, unnatural lighting didn't help. There weren't any windows that he could see, which was strange because the outside had looked so normal. It took him a moment to realize that they must all be blocked off by the bookshelves that squeezed their way into every corner of the room.

Deciding that he didn't want to stay here longer than necessary, he got straight to business.

"I've been looking into stories about artifacts or special magicks on the peninsula, real or fictional."

"The big one is the Ygg Latten Keystone a couple of miles off our shore. There's no point trying to go see it though. The water there is so deep, you'd be crushed by the pressure."

"I'm interested in something on the peninsula itself." Juan gave him a skeptical look.

"If you're a treasure hunter, you've come at an unfortunate time."

"You get a lot of treasure hunters?" The scholar sighed.

"People get these fanciful ideas in their heads because of our proximity to a keystone. They've convinced themselves that the Apostle returned here multiple times in order to leave something behind. Why the bay is the target of these wild theories and not any of the other major destinations on his journey, I'll never understand." It occurred to Havlo that, like these treasure hunters, the necromancer must have made contact with the local scholars to assist in their search.

Therefore he didn't have to restrict himself to finding the artifact first, and instead could try to track the villain down directly.

"Have any people like that come around recently?" he asked.

"Since the lockdown? No one gets into the peninsula unless they can fight."

"How about before?" Juan glanced at him sidelong.

"What are you after, exactly?" While he didn't want to tip the necromancer off that someone was on their tail, some risk was necessary if he wanted to have any chance of catching them before it was too late.

"The mucks are after something on the peninsula," he explained.

"If we can find out what it is, we could put an end to the invasion."

"You mean they aren't just mindless monsters?"

"Someone is creating them." Juan showed no surprise at this revelation. Instead he said calmly, "This is related to the keystone, isn't it?" Havlo hesitated. For two hundred years, the keystones were considered indestructible. He didn't know what would happen once word got around that they could be damaged—or that one was already gone. For the moment, he wanted to keep a tight grip on this information. He'd judged it necessary to reveal a bit to the governor, but he didn't trust this scholar nearly so much.

Unfortunately he remained silent a bit too long, and that was as good as a response. Juan continued, "If the keystone is their goal, then they're probably looking for the Apostle's Key."

"What key?" This was the first he'd heard of such a thing. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"It depends on which version of the story you believe. It could grant access to the underworld. Or to the divine temples. Or control the very keystones themselves." It was a ludicrous notion. The Apostle had left something behind that could undo all his work? That was completely contrary to the meticulous, forward-thinking man he'd known. Yet he couldn't get rid of that doubt. One of the keystones had been destroyed. And he'd parted ways with the Apostle shortly after the Demon Supreme was sealed.

Decades could change a man, as could wealth and power—all of which the Apostle had in abundance. He pushed the doubt aside to focus on the here and now. Whether or not this artifact could actually destroy the keystones, what mattered was that the mastermind behind the invasion believed it could.

"Where is this key now?" he asked.

"Haven't you been paying attention? It doesn't exist. These are just stories made up to waste people's time."

"This waste of time is about to get your city destroyed by abominations from the deep," he pointed out. Juan sighed.

"Why can't people just be rational? Then things like this would never happen."

"What if the key does exist?" he pressed.

"Where would it be?" Juan shook his head.

"Look, it's pointless to try—" He slapped a handful of gold coins down on the table.

"Make this a rush job. The fate of the city depends on it." And possibly the entire world's, he added silently. Juan looked at the money dispassionately.

"You're just going to come back angry after a wild goose chase."

"I understand it's probably fictional. I won't hold you accountable on that." The scholar looked him up and down carefully and then picked up the coins.

"Check back in same time tomorrow."

"And give me a list of everyone who has asked about it. Their names, what they look like, anything else you remember. In fact, do that first. I'll come back for it in a few hours."

"You think I'm the sort of person to remember any of my customers?"

"For everybody's sake, I hope you do."

Naytor was on his roof, watching the sun set behind the bay. Around him, his staff were preparing for another difficult night. The days of watching over a battlefield were supposed to be behind him. This governorship had been a retirement gift, a reward for years of faithful military service. An easy job where he only had to keep the merchants in line and collect taxes. Lieutenant Marsh, standing next to him, seemed to be struggling with her own thoughts.

"How many more nights, sir?"

"The royal messenger promised to return by tonight. Chin up, lieutenant. Reinforcements could be marching to the peninsula as we speak." His adjutant shifted her weight uneasily.

"I don't trust him, sir. Crowley hasn't been relaying a full account of the regency council's discussions." She was right. And this was the problem with being out here, away from the royal capital and all the key players. Many generals had seen their battlefield successes wiped out by decisions made back home by self-interested courtiers.

"We do what we can," he said.

"That's all we can do."

"Is this why you're letting that girl redesign our defenses?" Marsh asked.

"You don't have faith in her either?"

"I find it hard to believe she'll have anything useful to add to our strategy. She seems a bit too young to have the amount of experience in defending sieges as she claimed."

"Do you really think that's her real age?" he said.

"I've heard those same rumors, sir. But one only needs to listen to her talk to dispel the notion that she's an ancient mystical being."

"And how many ancient mystical beings have you met, lieutenant?" It wasn't like he was giving Amberlin free rein to mess with their defenses. He trusted his staff to reject any harmful suggestions. But if there was a chance she could actually help them hold out for a couple more days, he was willing to take it. He was pulled from his thoughts by an unnaturally cheerful voice.

"Arnold! Hey, Arnold!" Naytor winced. He wasn't sure how he'd ended up on a first-name basis with Amberlin. But if the rumors were true that she'd singlehandedly retaken a fallen sector, then he was willing to make this concession for the sake of his city. He put on his best smile.

"Amberlin! Havlo! How go your investigations?"

"Oh, mine went great! You know, when this all started, I had some thoughts about where to position your towers to make the most of your mages..." Amberlin went into a complicated spiel about mana regeneration and leak rate, interspersed with arcane terms like DPS and AOE.

"And it turns out that none of the ideas I initially had will make any real difference," she concluded.

"What you're doing now is good, and what you really need is more firepower."

"That's your professional recommendation?" he asked.

"Keep doing what we're doing but with more firepower?"

"That's right!" He glanced at Marsh, who didn't seem particularly enthused about being proven right, and tried to reassure her with a casual shrug. This was the same advice they'd received from the previous, expensive consultant, only this time they'd gotten it for free. Out past the bay, the ghost fleet had made its appearance, and spells lit up the streets below. The battle had resumed once more. Naytor turned to Havlo.

"Having heard all that, what are your thoughts?" The elf shook his head.

"I really don't understand the purpose of the lockdown. All this secrecy—for what? It only seems to have hurt you. Why not call in the royal army?"

"Why indeed?" He turned to gaze out over the bay.

"You have almost all the pieces you need to answer the question yourself. So let me ask you, what's missing from this picture?"

"So there is something you haven't told us?" Havlo said with growing annoyance.

"Something you've held back?"

"Of course I've held back. But it's a simpler mystery than the one you're trying to solve. Everything is right in front of your eyes. So let me ask you again. What's missing?" Havlo kept shaking his head.

"All this cryptic—""I think I know," Amberlin cut in.

"Normally in a bay like this, you'd expect to see some ships."

"They wouldn't be able to keep any around because of the decay field," Havlo explained.

"They'd have moved them all to..." Naytor met his eyes, and the elf's widened.

"Good Goddess," Havlo gasped.

"You didn't get your ships out in time." He nodded grimly.

"By the time we realized the need, it was too late. Most of the kingdom's navy was harbored in this bay, and all of it has been lost." This was the secret the regency council wanted to keep from getting out. They couldn't let their enemies know they were vulnerable. His orders were to buy time and keep the information contained while the council put into place a contingency plan.

"And the sailors?" Amberlin asked.

"We managed to get them all safely off the ships." They exchanged a few more words, but Amberlin didn't have anything further to report, and Havlo was reluctant to discuss his investigation in her presence, revealing only that he had some promising leads. He tried to talk Havlo into helping with the defense, but the archmage refused. With Amberlin siding with her companion, there was nothing he could say to change their minds. He couldn't risk alienating the adventurers. The pair departed shortly thereafter.

The fact about the lost navy, while technically a state secret, was something the adventurers would have learned from asking around at any of the taverns. After all, everyone had heard the old adage of sailors being loose-lipped about sunken ships. But more than that, he'd decided that this had already gone on long enough. The other nations must have realized by now. He was no longer willing to risk the lives of his people while the country's leaders floundered about ineffectually.

He would give Crowley, the royal messenger, until morning to deliver news that might change his mind. Otherwise he was going to implement his own contingency plan. The city only had to hold out for one more night.