Chương 28: Chapter 27

Cal had spent more time in the class than he needed to. He tried to study but found his mind drifting back to the untenable state of things. It was dark when he decided to pack up and head for the dorms. He'd only just gotten out of his seat when he felt a tug on his sleeve. Mia was behind him; one of her hands reached up and unclipped the silver hairpin she always wore.

"Loan," she held it out to him. He hesitated for a moment before picking it up gingerly from her open palm. It was warm to the touch, a consequence of the magic running through it. He injected his own, inspecting the small magical device. It reacted instantly, drinking what he gave it and then gaining a gleam before a bubble bloomed around it. Holding it away from him, he watched as more and more of his arm disappeared until the bubble enveloped him. A complex weave of illusion and sound magic.

All it needed was a dash of mind magic to make it the perfect infiltration device. His old uniform had a similar component, and with how much nagging he got after he ripped it out, even in the Federation they weren't something anyone could get their hands on. He looked at the unblinking girl. Contrary to what some believe, Cal wasn't an idiot. However, he did occasionally practice willful ignorance. With that spirit of thought, he executed what was currently running through his head with extreme prejudice.

"Thanks, Mia." He held it back to her, earning a tilt of her head in questioning.

"I appreciate it. I do, but I can handle myself." Her eyes drifted down to the pin and back to him. She gave him a small nod and took it back, placing it in her hair again. Cal left the normal girl and made his way out of the building. His only greeting was a soothing breeze of fresh air, a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness of that old building. He'd checked beforehand with his senses and didn't find anyone waiting for him.

He wasn't expecting any either; this place was remote, and he doubted Petro would sit around and wait for him. The man, as far as Cal could tell, also didn't have the lackeys to do that work for him. It was with that confidence that Cal navigated back to the dorms without incident. He was spotted when he entered through the normal entrance, but nothing came from it aside from whispers. In front of his dorm's door, he had to fish in his bag for his keys. It'd been a while since he last used them.

The door was swung open, and he was met with a dark room. He flipped on the light switch as he entered. Alice was not in her usual position, instead seated on a side chair. Her eyes flashed open, having originally been shut.

"Sorry?" Cal found her behavior odd.

"You needn't be. I was merely resting for a moment." She gestured to the sofa opposite her.

"Please sit." Cal obliged, dropping his bag at his feet and leaning back on the plush cushion.

"Did you deliver the letter?" She asked. He internally groaned.

"I did. I can't predict what she'll say." Any variation of 'no' would be acceptable. Cal had anticipated several outcomes from Olivia's and Alice's first meeting. Most of them ended with having to cover up a murder, maiming, or massive property damage. To his horror, they got along well. The beginning of their lunch was rocky, with Alice being fairly aggressive, but that did little to dissuade the false persona of Emily.

For all that Alice preached about being watchful for the true intentions of other parties, she'd let Emily play her like a fiddle. It might have been the arrogance of a noble, where they didn't see a 'commoner' as capable of the same honeyed words they were. No wonder they failed time and time again to occupy the Federation. Not to take credit away from Olivia, the woman had shown she was a pro.

However, she may have laid it on too thick, as Alice wasted no time in asking him if Emily would be open to accepting a position in their household staff. He didn't fight it and wrote a letter explaining the situation. Letters were good; letters couldn't yell at you after they found out about some of your choice omissions. She'd not been pleased to find out he'd broken a student's nose, even if Alice had the decency to downplay that event by leaving out whose nose it was.

Of course, that decency flipped when Alice boasted about his enrollment in Advanced Magical Combat, along with who the other members were. The icy stare he received after indicated he'd lost the respect he'd gained since the start of this mission. He'd stick to letters for a while. Hopefully, the next time they met, she would have forgotten all about it. The letter itself wasn't addressed to the bar; he wasn't that careless.

Rather, it was sent to a prepaid mailbox she had acquired as one of the means for their communication. It was one of many that could be rented in the city's Grand Central Station. Hundreds of letters found their way there every day; one more wouldn't be out of place. Whether she said yes or no to the offer of employment was her call. Not that accepting would guarantee her the job; it would need the approval of the Lord and Lady of the house.

Letting in the 'long time friend' of a Federation agent might be a bridge too far for them.

"She'd do well to accept. A Count family is a Count family. Regardless of the current obstacles we face." Her expression tightened at the mention of those obstacles.

"About that." He scooched to the edge of the sofa and hunched forward. His hands were intertwined, with arms resting on his legs.

"What's the plan?"

"Pardon?" She blinked at him.

"The plan to deal with Petro." Cal didn't see why he had to spell it out.

"You." She leaned back, crossing her arms.

"Did not seem overly concerned about such matters prior."

"That was then; this is now." One of his hands reached forward and knocked on the coffee table, attracting her attention again.

"Stop being so coy. What's the game plan here?"

"Our position remains the same." She responded coolly.

"Not good enough." He didn't relent.

"Sitting around and waiting isn't my style."

"Do you believe I've done nothing? I continue to gather information to better chart a course out of our predicament." She huffed unhappily.

"I'm not trying to invalidate your work." Cal took a metaphorical step back.

"Why don't we start with what you've learned thus far? I'm not claiming to be any better at this than you are, but another perspective couldn't hurt." She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, not responding immediately to what he felt was a reasonable request.

"So?" He prompted her.

"What I've discovered is peculiar, and not in the positive sense of the word. Those who openly mocked our house a scant few months ago now shy away at our mention. Had it been one or two, I would look at it as a blessing from the Ancestors. Perplexingly, the vast majority have shifted their stance from overt opportunism to one of inaction, with House Lucerna being a standout."

"That's a good thing? Or they're leaving us alone because some plot is in the works and they don't want to give anything away." She gave a tired sigh and picked at a strand of hair, twirling it with her finger.

"I have a foreboding premonition that it is the latter. The only change in our situation is your presence. That alone does not justify the change in their demeanor. I would opine that Marcus had given away your potential as a future Finger; however, the change in behavior occurred before your first meeting." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"My what now?" He spoke louder than intended, and she regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you expect otherwise? The Crown Prince's station prohibits his membership. Nonetheless, his retainer and the Duke's heir are likely to become members once they age a few more years. Truthfully, I had planned the same for myself." Her tone changed to one of wistfulness.

"It would entail risk; that much is certain. Despite this, the prestige and honor would have been a large boon for our house. Enough to warrant the delay to my ascendance as leader of the house or electing one to take stewardship in my absence. Having you take up that mantle solves a great deal of dilemmas." This was all sorts of news to him. Hopefully whatever they gave to the Lord was good because this girl was making up all kinds of fantasies.

One thing was for sure, he was not going to be the one to tell her this was all make-believe.

"It's frightening." She continued.

"That you are years their junior and yet can trade blows with them. I can scarcely comprehend it. Showing that ability, I can't discount the prospect of you reaching the level of a Hand." The disbelief in her tone was evident. For his part, Cal was in disbelief as well. Him as a Hand? It was a comical thought, and he fought to keep the laughter from escaping his mouth. It was also the highest praise he'd gotten from her.

Those two were the real deal, and he suspected they were treated with the same reverence those of the Federation gave to the Constellation. Hells, even She begrudgingly respected them. He was tempted to defect and reach for the rank only to see the look on Her face. Alas, unlike some who shall remain nameless, he was not quite so juvenile as to commit treason for a laugh.

"Let's dial it back." Cal cautioned after getting control of himself.

"We need to talk about the here and now." He emphasized his point by poking the table with his index finger.

"Hypothetically speaking, if I were to squash Petro in a fight, what happens next? Moreover, why can't you kick his ass for me?" It didn't take long for her to respond, having thought about it for a while.

"Please mind your language." Her nose scrunched up.

"I have my fill from Lily as is. To answer you, given he accepts my challenge, which is doubtful, it would do nothing to disprove his allegations against us. As for you fighting him, it would draw attention. I'll reiterate my previous concern of others being threatened by our House's rise and moving to suppress us in some manner. I could envision what trade we have left being embargoed and lobbying to reduce or remove the stipend owed to us for maintaining part of the border." Mostly economic damage then.

That didn't concern him; the attention did.

"Okay, table the direct confrontation for now. How do we get him to back off quietly?" Cal could think of a number of ways, none of which could be said in polite company.

"We lack the soft power needed to silence him or convince others to do so in our stead. Unless…" She looked at him with a strange expression and Cal suddenly felt a sense of danger.

"No, that's not a viable option." The feeling passed.

"Lily informed me that Marcus and you have come to some form of training agreement?" He nodded at her.

"That timing... does not sit right with me. Marcus is not to be underestimated. If he is involved, I can foresee two reasons. Either House Lucerna has fallen out of the Duke's grace and he wishes to use us to humble them, or he seeks for us to act as a sort of lightning rod and keep the other vassals occupied with restricting us. Perhaps even both."

"He honestly doesn't seem that bad." Cal received a harsh glare in return.

"So you still want to go with the wait-and-see approach?"

"It's the most prudent course of action until we have more information." She said testily.

"Fine fine, we'll do it your way." Cal got up; this conversation had gotten him nowhere.

"For whatever it's worth, sometimes imperfect action is better than perfect inaction." He made for the balcony door.

"Where are you going?" She belatedly called as he twisted the lock open.

"I'm going to go blow off some steam."

"You should stay here. I ordered food for us." The last part was said halfheartedly; he suspected neither of them had much of an appetite.

"I'll be back later tonight. Don't wait up for me." He took a step out and stopped as she spoke again.

"You'll remain on campus?" He nodded. She exhaled, holding a palm to her forehead.

"So be it then; don't cause a ruckus." Who did she take him for?

"No," the grumpy Spirit addressed him with an aggrieved look. Cal put on his serious face and said in a low tone.

"This is important for the mission." His first stop of the night was the registration building, much to the chagrin of its caretaker.

"We're beginning to think you have brain damage." The Spirit was neither impressed nor convinced.

"We already told you lying doesn't work on us."

"I'm not lying. This guy is a threat to my cover. The least you can do is tell me if he's doing any shady stuff."

"Do you take us for some voyeur? We don't enjoy watching you feeble beings, and we're stretching ourselves thin with your previous request. We're not adding on a purely mortal affair. Deal with it yourself." The Spirit berated Cal.

"Have you no heart? I thought we were friends!"

"We do have one. And if we have to keep listening to your whining, we're afraid it will give out." The Spirit dissipated into smoke.

"Oh, come on, throw me a bone." Cal fell to his knees, hands cupped together.

"I'm begging over here."

"We see that; it's pathetic." The voice boomed around him.

"Both in the action itself and that you think it will move us." Cal got up, dusting himself off.

"It was worth a shot." He stated shamelessly. Cal had a feeling the Spirit would reject his request. He was really just waiting to see if the person he texted would come through.

"We cannot believe they sent you to deal with this." Cal could feel the Spirit facepalming, even if it didn't remake its physical form.

"Hey man, you and me both."

"It's fortunate you were born in different ages." It said in an almost melancholic tone.

"Our sanity would be frayed dealing with both of you at once."

"Who are we talking about?" The air lashed out at him, and he split the incoming gale in two.

"You've overstayed your welcome." The Spirit rasped, the magic in the area rising a few levels.

"Leave." Probably better not to antagonize this thing any further today; it seemed to be in a mood. His phone buzzed, and he read the message. Talk about serendipitous timing. He turned on his heel and left with a backwards wave. Using the map, he worked out where he needed to go while descending the building's steps and then traveled to his new destination at speed. The campus was in its sleepy phase, so he wasn't worried about being spotted. The scenery shifted until he arrived at his destination.

Nestled between the grandiose buildings typical of campus was a squat, spartan-looking structure. At a single story, it looked like someone had made an attempt at painting its concrete walls at one point and quit soon after. It resembled more a bunker than anything else, with the entrance being a single door made of solid metal. Cal walked up and grasped the large handle. He'd been given instructions in the text, so without knocking, he forced it open. At several inches thick, it swung open with some weight to it.

Cal crossed the threshold and closed it behind him, causing a metallic thud to echo through the interior. It was dimly lit inside, with a single blinking light being the only source. There was little choice on how to proceed, and he went down the narrow corridor, counting the metal doors that he passed. At the third, he opened it, like the last, and was greeted by a staircase leading downward. The metal steps clanged as he descended; at the base there was yet another door.

Opening it, the roar of machines invaded the corridor. He'd almost flinched there; a little warning would have been nice. He stepped into the small office. It had a neatly kept desk with an office chair and plain wooden chairs for guests. On the wall connected to the door he entered from were framed newspaper clippings. They were past headlines from what it looked like. Opposite to that wall was an open door and a large window. Cal approached it, peering through it.

A large amount of machinery operated below, printing page after page of what must have been tomorrow's paper. The noise was subdued as the door adjacent was shut.

"Welcome to the News Paper club room." Anne greeted him. Her usual tidy appearance was missing. Her hair was in disarray, her clothes ruffled, and ink stains marred her hands.

"Not what you expected, right?" She had a wide grin on her face as she walked over and took a seat at the desk.

"That is a common sentiment. Our machinery has caused complaints in the past, and so we relocated underground. Or, that's the official story; club lore has it that the founding president was a paranoid shut-in and demanded this place." She slightly adjusted the chair height, and her eyes briefly glanced back to the window.

"There's talk about moving it every now and then, but they never go anywhere."

"Seems homey?" Cal offered, not wanting to offend the girl. She nodded at his words and then steepled her fingers together on the desk.

"Yes, it is. Now, I know why you're here, and there is no need to worry. I already pulled it. That's why I'm here at this hour and rushing a new version by my lonesome."

"Pulled what exactly?" Cal hadn't explained his purpose over text, instead only asking if they could meet up. Her brow furrowed, and she swiveled to the side, reaching to the bin next to the desk and grabbing something from it. She unfurled the newspaper, laid it on the table, and turned it in his direction.

'House Ardere refuses duel from House Lucerna,' the headline boldly exclaimed. There was an article written, but Cal's attention was drawn to a smaller header on the page and the picture accompanying it.

'Love blossoms in adversity?' It read.

"Who keeps taking these pictures?" Cal complained as he saw the image of Lily and him. She was grasping his collar, and their foreheads were touching. They must have a high shutter speed because it didn't capture the fake pained expression she put on right after. After he was done with Petro, he'd see about running down this culprit or culprits. He was surprised Lily allowed her stalkers to get away with something like this; she seemed the type to take action.

"Someone nosey," Anne muttered while crossing her arms.

"As I said, already pulled it. I can't kill it entirely, but I took out the romance, bumped it a few places back, and trimmed it down."

"Wow." Cal was still upset at someone sneaking photos of him, yet he was somewhat touched by the trouble she went through for him. They didn't know each other that well enough to warrant it. This was the second time today someone had been overly considerate to him.

"You didn't have to; thanks though. Makes my life easier." She grumbled something under her breath. With the machinery running in the background, it was hard to hear. Not impossible, however, he held off. If she wanted him to hear it, she would have said it louder.

"If that's not why you're here." She wrapped up the newspaper again, tossing it into the bin.

"What's so important?"

"It is related." One of the wooden chairs creaked as Cal took a seat.

"Petro Lucerna, tell me everything you know about him."