Chương 161: Chapter 160: The Katalin Mystery I

Polina felt uneasy in Lord Inoue's estate. It wasn't that she was unwelcome. Not that she and her new colleagues were favoured guests, either. While estate staff treated them with prompt propriety and respectable efficiency, they weren't warm to them. Maybe their being human made the demon house staff uncomfortable, for there was a subtle difference in how they treated Highlord Driss and them.

Aldous' cheerful smiles were met with smooth indifference, while the Highlord received friendly expressions from the female staff, and, on occasion, a giggle to a whispered joke. The source of her unease, as she came to realise, was the building itself. After the Federation-Christdom war in the early ninth century, the motherland found itself in sudden need of a large amount of housing. The resulting concrete residential blocks were the perfect answer.

They oozed pragmatism and stability, which were not the feelings Polina got from Lord Inoue's estate. Pulpian architecture used thick walls to ward off the cold Federation winters. Here, in Asamaywa, the walls were thin wood and in some places, not even walls—they were paper screens. Instead of blocking breezes, Lord Inoue's estate appeared to welcome the brisk morning chill. A Pulpian block protected a family from nature. Here, nature was persuaded to step politely around the furniture.

Sliding paper doors lead to open courtyards while internal gardens with verandas were carefully built around trees. It wasn't just the building materials, but the layout of the structure as well. The Federation had stripped its nobility of political power a long time ago, but the remaining old aristocrats still lived in tall manors with massive facades, built with brazen monumentality.

Here, that grandeur was mostly played out in the horizontal plane, relying on an organic arrangement of the structure—something born from Manwese teng shua —as opposed to rigid Pulpian symmetrism. Although, Lord Inoue did make one deviation from that norm. In the back of the estate a lone tower reached five floors high. Each floor bore a ring of small flags, coloured after the five moons of Cascadia. The roof was domed, with a large sliding hatch.

"It's my old workplace," Lord Inoue had explained.

"I had to get special permission from Oshiro to build it. Now I spend most of my time in the academy's tower. The telescope there is far more powerful than what I have."

"Human or demon," Aldous had said.

"Mages love building towers, don't they?" The demon had laughed.

"It is an old tradition. Do you know why?" When the Murian priest shook his head, Lord Inoue continued, "Mages use many sensitive instruments to monitor the aetherfield. Lumina fluctuations disrupt the readings, even through four kilometres of rock. Someone discovered that if you line a floor with mercury-treated, crystal-dense marble, you block out most of the effect. More layers are more effective, and if you need more layers, you might as well build upwards to get further away from the lumina, mightn't you?"

Polina was aware of the phenomenon. Although she wasn't an aether researcher, the principle had come up several times in her analysis. It was the same blocking effect that prevented a ship's lift engine from interacting with the lumina over the Cascadian Red Sands.

"I would love to examine you," Lord Inoue had said, eyeing the Murian priest.

"I've heard the people of Mur have a natural affinity to the lumina. Some form of adaptation from living near the Great Storm for so long. I would like to test that…" Aldous had chuckled at that and politely declined, but Polina hadn't missed the flash of fear in his eyes. What had he imagined Lord Inoue would do? Dissect him? Whatever he would have been greeted with, that day was not the day he would find out. Lord Inoue only shrugged and gestured for them to follow her further into her home.

The estate was a miniature maze, and deep within it, their rooms were found. Polina had raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything regarding the nightingale floor that was both in their rooms and the hallway outside. Every footstep, no matter how light, caused a squeak that would tickle the ears of their liaison wherever she was at the time. It was an elegant solution to keep track of questionable guests. In the Red Citadel, they would just post a guard outside your door all day and all night.

For the guest's protection, of course.

"I will be in there," Katalin said, pointing to a room at the end of the hallway.

"Sometimes I may not be there. I have to send correspondence to my Father, understand?" The Northern Highlord tapped her thumb and forefinger together—the universal gesture for an aethergram.

"If I am gone, then you must wait, unless Lord Inoue or someone else with the authority to act as liaison is here, yes?" Katalin's purple eyes overwhelmed them until they murmured their agreement.

"Then I look forward to your company." Despite the demon's polite words, Polina's unease continued. She didn't sleep well that first night. While a good night's rest evaded her, she did hear the nightingale floor sing twice. The first time was deep into the night, when only soft blue moonlight spread through the paper windows. Polina's ears pricked as she heard Katalin's door open and close. The nightingale floor squeaked with each footstep, almost piercingly loud in the silence of the night.

The noise stopped outside their rooms. Polina slowed her breathing. Was their liaison checking if they were asleep? Chances were that the nightingale floor had woken Caolan and Bird, their Speaker instincts keeping them alert and reactive. Right now, were they also doing as she did, pretending to sleep? They might, but the remaining member of their group wasn't; Aldous' snoring could be heard faintly from his room, the thin walls doing little to keep it at bay. The squeaking resumed, and Katalin walked off.

What would motivate such action deep in the night? Sudden news, perhaps? No, she would have heard someone come to the demon's door. Business with Lord Inoue then? Or was she leaving to send an aethergram to Greatlord Driss? Maybe she was reporting her experience with them to Cascadian Intelligence? I'm overthinking things, Polina thought to herself. She's likely just using the toilet. That said, it was an entire hour before the nightingale floor sang once more and Katalin returned to her room.

Polina filed the datapoint away in her memory and did everything she could to get some rest. It took a tremendous effort, but Polina's mind was eventually able to settle, and she drifted off to a short sleep. In the morning, a member of Lord Inoue's staff woke her. She was given a lightly patterned kimono to wear, along with an over-jacket as an additional barrier against the cold. The thin walls of the estate meant it was a little too cool in the early hours for someone who wasn't an aether user.

Once dressed, she was led outside to the wooden veranda that ran along the building's edge. Here, she was invited to watch the garden and drink tea. She wasn't the first to arrive.

"Morning, Miss Volkova," Katalin said, glancing up from a thin book. The demon was sitting in a wooden chair, facing the interior garden where a group of waterbirds paddled across a small pond. Squat-bodied and feathered in mottled brown, their broad bills skimmed the water, occasionally dipping beneath the surface only to come up and preen themselves. Turning her gaze from the animals, Polina eyed the book's cover. She deciphered the neat Imperial letters. The Mathematics of War.

"Morning to you, Highlord Driss." Polina stood there, unsure exactly how to act around a Highlord as a foreign guest. Unlike most human countries, in Cascadia, nobility had been fully integrated into the administrative bureaucracy. Demon nobles weren't just there to extract wealth from the demon taxpayer; they ran the Empire. Their hierarchy was a brutal meritocracy, all designed to satisfy the will of their long-lived Overlord of Overlords.

One of the Empress' first Imperial decrees had been to make the Cascadian titles gender-neutral—an intentional act to imply the Empress did not care whether someone was a man or a woman. If they could serve her in sufficient capacity, they would do so.

"You can sit," the demon said, snapping Polina out of her thoughts.

"I made tea. Help yourself." Polina sat down. She watched Katalin thumb through another page. The demon was truly immersed in the text. She took the teapot and poured herself a cup, then raised it to her face and breathed in the warm steam. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"Kasimanda mint," Katalin said, not looking up.

"You had it yesterday, yes? I imagine it quite hard for you to enjoy in the presence of Greatlord Oshiro. You can enjoy it now, in this peaceful garden."

"... Yes." It was all Polina could think to say. She took a sip, thinking that the presence of such a mysterious and strange Highlord generated its own unease regardless. Still, unease aside, the hot tea helped settle her body against the morning chill.

"It tastes better in the North," Katalin added, flicking to another page.

"Hot things are always more delicious when you're cold."

"I'll keep that in mind," Polina answered. Trying to find something to talk about, she nodded at the book.

"I've read that," she said.

"It's well regarded in the Federation." There were good reasons for that. The Mathematics of War originated out of Cascadia several years prior, in the early stages of the Republican war for independence. It was a commentary on the nature of war and its relation to technological advancement, arguing that wars would become bloodier over time instead of cleaner. Its arguments were shown to be remarkably prescient, having been quickly validated in the ongoing conflict.

The anonymous author's concerns were quite similar to Caolan's. Perhaps the Paladin had read it?

"It is?" Katalin asked.

"I would have thought a demon text would be discouraged."

"It is a logical and rational analysis," Polina said. She shuffled her feet awkwardly.

"And, uh, given the reforms it suggested that Cascadia then carried out, it's considered valuable for its political influence and insight into the Cascadian military mind. Despite… its author." She decided not to mention that the Bureau had determined that while statistically the anonymous Cascadian author would be demon, Federation stylometrists had identified certain word choices in the text that were favoured by Cascadian humans.

There was every chance that the prescient work that may very well have saved Cascadian logistics by predicting the evolving conflict had come from a human.

"I think it is excellent," the demon answered. She tapped the book.

"I have read it many times. It is as if the author travelled back in time to warn us of what was to come. But, Miss Volkova, don't be mistaken. Those reforms were carried out by the North first, yes? Only then did Centralis see their value and copy us."

"Yes, I mean…" Polina took another sip of her tea, "it worked out well. You won in the end."

"At great cost," came the reply. The Highlord looked out into the garden, watching the waterbirds flitter about with naive confidence. A silence of half a dozen seconds passed before the demon opened her mouth and whispered, "The North bleeds." Polina swallowed. The North Bleeds. It was the rallying cry and slogan that formed the heart of the modern political landscape of the Northern Terra-Firma.

Born from the disproportionate casualties the North had faced in comparison with the rest of the Empire, it was both a complaint to Centralis and a morale-boosting cry for themselves. The Bureau, having identified it as having the potential for developing into an anti-Imperial sentiment, had done what it could to inflame the message.

"I'm sorry," Polina said.

"For what you've—""Don't apologise," Katalin said, giving her a side glance.

"It is meaningless from a Federation spy. You do not get to work for who you work for, and then say sorry for the consequences your actions have helped produce, yes?" I'm not a spy, Polina protested in her mind.

"Yes," she said softly. She took a—this time much more awkward—sip of tea.

"If you wanted to apologise to me, you should have become a diplomat." Polina murmured her agreement, but her mental protestations only increased. But a diplomat is nothing more than a spy that does a bit of diplomacy on the side! She pushed the thoughts aside with another sip of tea. She liked to imagine the Kasimanda tea was a magic potion, washing away the awkward atmosphere. It didn't work. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the demon refill her cup and add two small spoonfuls of fine brown sugar.

Together, they drank in silence, one reading and the other watching waterbirds dip into the water and give out the occasional quack. Just as Polina was praying that someone else would join them, Katalin spoke up.

"Are you trained?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you trained?" she repeated, tapping her sheathed sword.

"N-No," Polina said quickly.

"It's not for me." In truth, she had had a few lessons in the past. Mostly from Natalia Marakova en route to their mission half a year ago. The results had been disappointing to say the least. What could Polina—an aetherless woman—hope to do against an opponent? She could use a gun, but she was a notorious bad shot. Unless her enemy would be kind enough to hold a big crystal by their head and wait for her to use her blessing, there wasn't much Polina could do to win a confrontation against anyone.

"Shame," the demon responded with a small smile.

"We could have sparred."

"Caolan might," Polina said quickly.

"You did ask him, didn't you?" The demon smiled.

"Yes, I did." As if on cue, the Christdom Paladin appeared, along with Karina and a yawning Murian priest. Aldous was picking at his kimono, seemingly unable to get it comfortable around his belly. Once they had exchanged greetings and poured themselves some tea, Katalin wasted no time in bringing up the topic with Caolan.

"Lord Inoue has a small but appropriate training hall," Katalin said.

"I would have made a request to use the Academy's Speaker Halls, but after…" The demon trailed off before clearing her throat.

"Anyway, while Lord-Prospect Thornheart recovers, we must pass the time in interesting ways, yes?" She looked at Polina and Aldous.

"You can both watch. Then, there will be a record that I won against a Paladin, understand?" Her purple eyes glinted with sudden eagerness. It was then that Polina knew the reports about the Northern Highlord's obsession with the sword were valid.

"I haven't even eaten yet," Caolan said.

"I train every morning before breakfast," Katalin answered coolly, tapping the sword. Caolan eyed the weapon warily.

"Steel?" he asked. Katalin unsheathed the sword a few inches.

"Ironwood," she answered.

"Wouldn't want us to get bloody and trigger your theophanic rage, yes?" Caolan narrowed his eyes.

"How much do you know about us?" he asked.

"More than you think," the demon responded.

"For someone who rarely leaves my home, I am very much knowledgeable about many things, Caolan the Paladin."

"And if my blessing is triggered?" Caolan asked, putting a great deal of emphasis on blessing. Paladins hated it when their divine blessing was called rage.

"What would you do then?" Katalin smiled, taking a careful sip of tea.

"Greatlord Oshiro would not have sanctioned me if I could not handle it." She nodded to Karina.

"If you do not want to get involved, I will respect that. However, as a favour to me…" The demon ran a delicate finger around the rim of her cup. After she had completed her circle, she looked at Karina and said, "I would like to see a demonstration of Luhran, if that is permissible?" In response, the Karligard woman shifted in her seat. For a brief moment, a flash of annoyance rippled across her face.

"With respect, Highlord," she said, "I am not here to entertain. I am here to meet Miss—" Karina caught herself, continuing, "Lord-Prospect Thornheart. It would seem that demonstrating a Word is much less of a private matter here than it is where I come from."

"Hmm…" Katalin smiled, showing no sign of discontent at the refusal.

"I trained Lord-Prospect Thornheart personally. If you could give me the privilege of seeing Luhran, I could help highlight your application to meet her, yes? I hear there are already hundreds of such requests waiting for her when she has the energy to refuse or accept them."" If it can speed this up," Karina responded, "then I might reconsider. But if I am to go that far, then I would like to see your willingness. May I ask for your opinion about her nature?

There are many rumours attached to her, and I would like to hear your thoughts."

"Rumours?"

"That she is of boundless generosity," Karina said.

"That she loves all who deserve love. In that way, she is said to be a true Karligard woman." Karina emphasised her point by tapping her chest.

"But also that she can be fierce and cruel… even to her own kind." Cruel? Polina thought. Could anything be further from the truth?

"Cruel?" Katalin echoed, slowly blinking.

"Is that what's coming out in Karlish broadsheets these days? Or"—she flicked her eyes to Caolan—"is this the product of the Vatican? Has her not being a member of your flock frustrated them that much? Or was it her sainthood?"

"I'm not in the business of concerning myself with rumours," Caolan answered flatly.

"As for her supposed sainthood…." The Paladin blinked, looking to the side.

"I do not want to discuss that." Katalin frowned, undeterred.

"Was it not rumours of Lord-Prospect Thornheart and her good nature that caused you to drag a Karlish Speaker, a Murian Priest, and a Federation Truth-Teller to demon lands?" Caolan took a slow breath, long enough for Polina to see that Katalin had hit the nail on the head. The Bureau was well aware that Christdom was producing propaganda that both served to paint Amelia as a lost member of their flock and as a traitor to humanity, seduced by demonkind.

Both existed at the same time, and when the time was right, Christdom could pick one and act like the other was never an option.

"I like to believe I'm guided by faith," Caolan answered.

"Not rumours." For a moment, Katalin looked like she wanted to say something. A further jest perhaps, or a provocation. Whatever it was, the demon seemed to change her mind. Instead, she simply smiled.

"It would take a great effort to bring out cruelty from our good Lord-Prospect," Katalin said, looking at Karina.

"She is not that kind of warrior. She hasn't been infected by the poison of the battlefield. Honestly, I found her to be…" The demon trailed off, her eyes dipping to the ground and her smile widening.

"Found her to be what, Highlord?" Karina leaned in, her tone eager. The demon raised her cup to her lips.

"I found her to be," she took a small sip, "rather disarming, actually."