Chương 166: Chapter 187: Countermeasures

"Thought I'd surprise you for a change," Gala Kralcit said, with a wry impish grin on her face. She leaned on the massive support pillars in front of the building, books clasped to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

"Figured maybe if I got the drop on you just once I'd be less jumpy from now on." She fell into step alongside me, walking down the campus path. Our shoes crunched over the chalky gravel.

"Sounds like a good plan, tell me how it works out for you," I said.

"You do startle easily and I'm not a fan of your panic reactions."" One time!" she laughed with some good humor and some self-deprecation in equal measure. She seemed in a good mood.

"So, do you have any new projects for me? I don't like rush jobs, and if you've got stuff coming up I would like to push for plenty of advance notice."

"Actually..." I trailed off. I stopped where I was, conjured a portal, and reached into my pocket dimension and drew out a notebook. I dismissed the portal and started walking again, flipping pages until I found the right one, and tore it out to hand to her.

"There's a few. I've marked them in order of priority."

"Preemptively disabling other sigils, while they're still inactive," she read off.

"And which ones?... Oh. What? NO. Nobody does this, Lady Harigold."

"No, they don't," I said.

"But what I mean is that there's no.. look, this hasn't been done so that means I don't have anyone to copy from. No existing formula to copy and modify." She paused, considering this.

"You understand why this never happens? Because it's impossible?" I laughed.

"Everything is impossible until you do it, I should know. Trust me, you pull this off and they'll name a whole chapter in the scrivening texbooks after you. After all, I'm pretty sure the only reason it's not been done is just that nobody has bothered." I couldn't help making a face at that; hardly anyone devises sigils with the intent to help sorcerers. So, it looks like I'm just casually asking my classmate to revolutionize security enchantments. No pressure, right?

Seems like there's always too much happening too close together. When this was all just a video game, everything felt a lot more compartmentalized. Now, I'm aware of time and how unevenly the plot is spread about.

"I know I'm outside my realm of expertise, but I feel strongly that this is not only possible, but that doing it will be easier than you suspect." I am aware that I need an edge. More and more often, the quests I'm running up against, or the checkpoint challenges, have been focused around taking away my spellcasting. I do not for a second think that this is the last time I'll be running up hard aground the royal family.

And if they can neutralize all my powers just by showing up, that only encourages them to keep getting in my face and keep challenging me on my own ground. On a long enough timeline, this will blow up in my face. With enough opportunities, I will get screwed over with no way to save myself. And so I have requested Gala Kralcit to shield me from those countermeasures. What magic can deflect, magic can un-deflect.

And I'm not just worried about the plot events like the royals, I'm also realizing that I need to keep Nathan from getting the drop on me ever again. First step is to make sure I never lose my strength. I'm going to need some serious countermeasures. The line between "prepared enough" and "paranoid excess" is just the degree to which your enemies are prepared. That means that I can't be sure until after the fact.

Time will tell, he's been inconsistent but I'm getting used to him frustrating me in new and surprising ways. At this point a sudden bout of compliance with the quest schedule would fit the bill. I believe that the minute it screws up my plans for him to start following the quest-markers, he will start doing exactly that. Ugh, and after I've shored up that weakness, I'll start finding out how to protect myself from his spy games specifically.

"But, countering these sigils?" She gave me a strange look.

"You're a princess. What is this to you?"

"Life and death," I said with utter sincerity.

"Well, I regret I'll have to repeat myself," she said.

"It cannot be done. There's no method or formula for it. You're asking sigils to do something they don't do."

"Really?" I asked.

"They can't disable other sigils?"

"Sure they can, but only by dispelling the effect field, the source field is miniscule. If the sigils aren't doing anything, you can't disable them remotely. You need the effect fields to overlap." She used her hands to indicate that the ranges and radius just would not make this feasible, shaping the gestures as she went. I looked over at the notes I had given here.

"What if the sigils could emulate a false, nonspecific indication of sorcery, to trigger a reaction, and then target the reaction? Would that generate the effect field so you could target it?"

"Well, that would technically not be impossible," she grudgingly allowed. We were walking through the quad. I recognized Trazom in the distance, and gave him a wave.

"Is there an easier way than that?" I asked, turning my attention back to the mage I was walking with.

"An easier way than the barely-feasible ridiculously-contrived example you've concocted using nothing but your best guess about magic you don't understand?... Not at all. Your method is ludicrous. But if this can be done at all, that's probably the way. If there was any indication that anyone has ever attempted this maneuver I'd be deferring to their expertise. Instead, I defer to your ignorance." She twisted her mouth up in distaste. I recognize the expression.

I think I would title it'every creative or subject-matter expert who has tried to explain to the client what is possible only to have the client insist it will be easy'.

"Keep logs of all your expenses on this project, and I'll reimburse them above the retainer," I promised. Well, that shut her up. She seemed less annoyed with me now. Enough to change the subject.

"Anyway, I heard you're going to be doing some adventuring?"

"Just a bit. I've got my details squared away, I won't need your scripts for this one. Much more important to have you on this main project. Disabling the sorcery-disabling sigils. Get rid of those spells that shut off my sorcery."

"Sure sure. But... dungeon questing? Adventuring? Is that just something you're going to do from now on? And... why?" She was baffled. That was logical. It's not really something that high-ranking school-aged nobles do. It's more for suicidal malcontents with nothing to lose.

"Well, many reasons," I said blandly.

"Partly for training. Partly to make time with several of my close friends at the same time. Partly to earn genuinely scandalous amounts of wealth. Partly to earn favors from some of the various House leaders. And, partly for humanitarian purposes." She laughed.

"I've never heard anyone call adventuring 'humanitarian'."

"We rescued a village of people who were sealed inside of a jungle full of monsters," I explained. I walked a little bit on, enjoying my moment before I spoke up again.

"This next time is for historical purposes. I need to retrieve some artifacts of cultural significance. But they are also hidden in the same place as large amounts of wealth and loot, so I intend to make the most of my opportunities." She raised an eyebrow.

"I thought the crown would instantly confiscate any salvaged or recovered antiquities or treasures unless you have an accreditation from the Adventurer's Guild."

"They would. I've got my membership current and paid up." And that made her eyes pop all surprised again.

"Wait so you're actually a real adventurer? - not just, like..." She was unable to finish that thought coherently, and looked frustrated as well as confused and surprised. From her background, it makes much more sense that I'd be some dilettante who goes on a guided hunting trip and calls it adventuring. She's unrolling assumptions as fast as she can but she's still not caught up.

"I'm not very good at it," I admitted.

"But yes, I am the real thing."

"A lot to take in," she said, shaking her head. Her feet scuffed along as she read further down the page.

"And you don't need any extra sigil work? On your back pages you've got some other stuff. Water filtration, parasite removal? Alligator deterrents? Is that for your questing? That's a very serious adventuring expedition." I huffed a half-laugh.

"Hah. Um, as it turns out that's not for adventuring. That's just some gear that my subjects need, way out on the outskirts. It's not time-sensitive so I did not want to pay retail prices if I've got you on retainer."

"Putting that on my retainer instead of just buying them normally? Anyone ever tell you that you're kind of cheap for a princess?"

"Thrifty. And yes. But also, I have only ever had money of my own to spend just this last year. I was raised around plenty of wealth, and plenty of money was spent on my behalf by my family. But if I wanted a piece of licorice I would have to ask for someone to buy it for me because I did not have even a clip of spending currency to call my own. Jewelry, furs, big house, great education, but I did not have anything that someone did not decide to purchase for me.

So, I've got a lot of the bad habits of someone raised poor, but without the good excuse."

"Anyone ever tell you that you are a very strange and confusing person?"

"It's been mentioned." She shook her head.

"I want to find something normal about you. What did you do last night?"

"Um, I kinda went on a date." She looked relieved, and she tucked my notebook page between two pages of her books, and held them tight against her body.

"A date. That's normal. What made it 'kinda'?"

"We were also murdering monsters. And I'm not sure he knew it was a date. I tried resting my head on his shoulder to see if it felt romantic. Jury's still out. I had to return him to his cell when we were done." The look on her face was pure horror, and I had to giggle at it. Yes, I said that in the most terrible way that I could think of just to get her reaction. Yes, this is kind of how my sense of humor works. After I had my moment of fun, I patted her shoulder.

"Not as bad as it sounds. It was just Nux Gysmo."

"Oh," she was mollified. She paused, her chin rocked to the side thoughtfully.

"Where do I know that name?"

"He was the survivor of that massacre in the first week of the school year."

"Oh! The Byeview Boys! He was one of them?! You're associating with one of those boys? After what they did?!" Her voice rose, shrill. She looks ever more horrified now. I was taken aback slightly.

"Well, I think all things considered Nux has paid his debts and his dues." Gala Kralcit shuddered.

"The Byeview Boys? Ugh, fuck those guys. They scared the shit out of me on my first day." An interesting bit of revisionism.

"Uh, you were actually scared of me, not them. And I'm still sorry about that."

"Was I though? It was them doing all the shouting and threatening." She was giving me significant glances, and a leading-on sort of tone.

"Gala, I appreciate your help but i don't need you reframing events for me to change history."

"Sure you do. That's what lackeys are for, the unflinching vindication under all circumstances. Besides, it's like my mom always says: winners write the history books, and vice versa. That's why she started a publishing company for history books." Ah. Her mother. Grade Kralcit. Notorious pirate, organized criminal, pawn of the nastier houses. Murderess, thief, traitor, and a very versatile all-around scumbag. But also, I am discovering, a remarkably attentive and supportive mother.

Gala worships the ground that woman walks on. I wonder if she'll be as eager to redeem my reputation as a lackey if I implode her mother into a spray of blood. I still owe her for a lot of murders. Also, if the purpose of a lackey to convince you that you've done the right thing in all circumstances, I need to avoid lackeys. I'm more in danger of losing my conscience than my nerve. It's already disturbingly easy for me to rationalize murder, theft, and sabotage.

Manipulating, exploiting, threatening and abusing people is becoming second-nature very fast. I should stick with people that are going to pull me back from that edge, not push me to it. I chatted amiably with the girl, and it seems like every minute I can see more of her mother in her. I should start keeping more distance. Lately, my homeroom class has been very uncomfortable for everyone, and that's my fault. I mean this only in the most literal way. Every morning I arrive early. I get around rather quickly.

I settle in, a seat at the back row, high up with a raptor's view of the whole room, each concentric row of desks is a step higher so everyone can see the lectern at the front. I sit, maybe with a book or some project I'm working on. There's always something that needs my attention and some more planning. I dress sharply, bold striking colors, bold striking cuts. Cosmetics applied to perfection, hair perfectly controlled.

And when I can feel Nathan in the corridors headed towards the door, temperatures start dropping. I thin the air to make the difference sharper and lower humidity so everyone can see their breath. I don't bring it down to freezing, but the thin dry air and a constant slow breeze makes it feel that way. By the time Nathan reaches the door, this is a tough room to stay in. After a half-hour on the first day of this treatment, the homeroom teacher had approached my desk, signaling she was going to say something.

I spoke a second before she could.

"This room has a draft. The cold weather is getting in." My tone, firm, sharp, demanding. I did not pretend my complaint was authentic, we all knew what I was doing. And it was increasingly obvious why. When Nathan was excused from the room, the chill wore off quickly, the breeze stilled, the air was easy to breathe again. And then he returned. I did not glare or mean-mug him, I did not visibly trouble myself or pay any mind at all.

I just sat with the pages I was working on, in a small bubble of comfort I allowed myself in a room that left others shivering. They say living well is the best revenge. I find that requires a clarification: living well while they are not is the best revenge. Quarl sat close to be inside my bubble. Nobody else ever tried. He murmured to me on the second day, "Far be it from me to tell you how you and your brother ought to treat each other-""Is your next word 'but'?"

I asked, eyes sharp and my voice held just too steady.

"It was not!" he said, offended.

"Very well. Continue."

"Ahem. Far be it from me to tell you how you and your brother ought to treat each other, however it does seem that this is an uncommonly strong measure." I decided to humor him with a very direct answer.

"I imagine most non-mages do not study the magister's guild closely," I said.

"I've been tutored by their folk for a long time, and I make a study of prominent political blocs as well as magical threats. Magister college assessments are held at the expense of the assessed, take whatever form the college decrees, are judged by standards that college stipulates or chooses not to stipulate, all testing materials, products, information, resources and tools become property of the college. Assessments have been conducted for years at a time.

According to the contract that Nathan signed my name to, I would have no legal protection if the college ordered me to withdraw my life's savings in gold and reshape it into a fanciful statue, which would become their property afterwards. And then set me to work digging ditches and polishing boots with my sorcery until all my hair goes gray. And then vivisect me to see if there's any more information to be gleaned. In any order, they would not need to wait before vivisection if they choose not to."

"Surely they wouldn't! Not a lady of station!"

"Non-mages rarely ask questions about what the magister's college is doing. Magisters take more vows of secrecy than they take baths. If I went into that tower and never came out, nobody would lose an hour of sleep. But even if they choose to be reasonable; taking me out of classes for a few months, having me jump through their hoops, and charging me whatever they decree to be the fees for their time and expertise would still be ruinous." I put my hackles back down, I had been snarling.

"So even if I give Nathan every benefit of the doubt for his actions last weekend, derailing my entire party for his murder-mystery surprise reveal and getting me fucking arrested, I still owe him a raft of hell for signing a contract that sells me into slavery."

"Derailed?"

"It's an idiom about minecarts, don't worry about it."

"Do you think he deserves the benefit of the doubt for this weekend?" Quarl asked, cutting to the important question.

"Not for an instant," I said with no hesitation.

"I can't... I can't demonstrate my conclusions enough to task him for that, but my heart of hearts says he knew exactly what he was doing and this was a dagger in the night."

"And what has you so sure, in that case?" I did not glare at Nathan. I don't have to. If he's within my range, he's within my senses. The only human being that ever registers in my sorcerous senses. I don't have to turn my head to see his arms wrapped around himself, huffing his breath to warm his hands.

"Something he used to say. He was very particular about it. If you want to help someone, getting involved is the third step. The second step is asking the right questions to make sure you're helping the right way. The first step is to stop and think about what the right questions are." I smiled faintly.

"I don't think he was wrong. But for someone who says things like that to then steal hundreds of invitations out of the mail, change the address to the scene of a regicide, and send those out without saying anything to me, and making sure he's out of town when I find out? No doubts in my mind."

"I thought regicide was just for monarchs."

"Filia regicide is still regicide."

"Fair, I guess," he said, and he turned to look in Nathan's direction.

"So now you're giving the biggest cold shoulder ever. Just in case he's confused about how you feel? Just in case he needs tactile reminders? Or just to make sure that nobody wants to be anywhere near you if he's around?"

"Either himself, or the teacher, one of the students... someone here can make sure that the administration moves him out of my homeroom class."

"I should think you have more than enough leverage to order yourself moved to a different class, or to have him transferred," he said.

"From what you've told me of your maneuverings and favor-gathering, I'd think it's no trouble for you." I smiled.

"It really is not. After the boons I've banked and the connections I've secured, I could send a single messenger and be done."

"You've chosen not to do this," he prompted me, still digging for that answer.

"It's the principle of the thing," I said.

"From now on, I don't push people. They move themselves out of my way."