Chương 87: Chapter 85 Edited

Aidan"Thanks for telling me about the little show," I said to Cale, more than a little bitter. We were already back in one of the finer transports by then, sealed away from the palace and its listening walls. Cipher and I had left immediately after the meeting, mostly because neither of us wanted to give Princess Talena an excuse to follow. Cale chuckled as he pulled off the scrapsteel mask.

"If I told you," he said, "you would have given something away. No offense, Captain, but you're a terrible actor." I looked at him.

"I'm not sure whether to take offense to that."

"If you're worried about people appreciating your acting chops," he said easily, "then yeah, you should probably be offended. If I thought telling you would have added to the deception, I would have. I didn't keep it from you on purpose." He paused, then shook his head.

"Actually, that's a lie. I kept it from you on purpose. Like I said, you're a terrible actor." I laughed despite myself and leaned back in my seat.

"Alright. Fine. When did you become so proficient at building a Technica golem?" He didn't answer immediately, and that was answer enough.

"Actually," I said, "never mind. I don't want to know." Part of that was true. I knew Cale better than most, but that didn't mean I actually knew him. The facts I had about his time in the Wastes, the full extent of his abilities, his experience, his power — were still very limited. He had never explained how he became so strong. I didn't even know how many cores he had, though that part was at least partially readable. He had four cores.

Whether they were complete was harder to say, but given the range of foundational Expressions I had watched him use with clear proficiency, the only conclusion that held was that he had at least partially developed all four. How powerful each core was remained difficult to assess because his mana was so pure. The purity of his Arcanum and Aura alone had to sit in the eights or nines. I had seen him use advanced applications that seasoned Specialists spent decades reaching.

He was eighteen years old with the Expression and mana profile of someone in his fifties. Someone extraordinarily talented, with unbelievably pure mana and advanced application across the board. The Wastes had built something I was not entirely sure I had a framework for. His actual life was no clearer. I knew he had a master in the early years, someone who handled his training. I knew he had been on his own for roughly six years after that.

I did not know how he had come to inherit the mask of the Ghost of the Wastes, a mercenary identity that had existed for more than a century before Cale was born. Cale looked out the transport window for a moment, then spoke without prompting.

"The display mattered," he said. Stolen story; please report. I turned toward him.

"If Cipher is capable and unknown, people will think twice before making a move on the princess, even at the gala." I frowned.

"Are you really going to the Five Arts Martial Gala in full costume?" Cale rolled his eyes.

"It's not a costume, Captain."

"You're using it to conceal your identity and playing a role, Cale. That is exactly what it is." He gave me a look but didn't argue the point for long.

"If I'm going," he said, "the display was necessary. Let's just leave it at that." I shook my head.

"Yeah, you're going to have to explain that one." He was quiet for a moment, then looked back at me.

"The unknown works in our favor here. If I had gone as the Ghost of the Wastes, what do you think would have happened?"

"The world would have lost its shit," I said. He smiled at that.

"That is sort of the point."

"You're going to have to connect those two things for me, because I'm not there yet."

"The Ghost has been active for over a hundred years," he continued.

"You think a name like that survives that long without building enemies?" I didn't interrupt.

"Part of what made the Ghost difficult to deal with in the Wastes," he said, "was that he could move when and where he wanted. He knew the terrain, could navigate the spell pollution, and strike without giving people a clean way to retaliate. That kind of reputation keeps some people cautious, but it also attracts the kind of people who want to prove something." I saw where he was going.

"And if the Ghost of the Wastes shows up openly supporting Princess Talena," he said, "that creates connections we don't want. It raises questions. Worse, it pulls in the wrong kind of attention."

"Obsidian-level mercenaries," I said. He nodded once.

"Or others at that level. People with grudges, unfinished business, curiosity, ambition. We don't want any of that showing up at a Five Arts Martial Gala with half the top schools in the Western Bloc gathered in one place." I exhaled and rubbed a hand over my face.

"Right. The Ghost of the Wastes at the martial arts gala was never the plan. But that still doesn't explain why you had to put on the show." Cale looked out the window again.

"A display of power is often enough to deter. You don't need to win. You just need to make the cost of victory too high."

"Mutually assured destruction."

"Exactly. Making Cipher appear hyper-competent accomplishes those goals without bringing in the reputation of the Ghost of the Wastes."

"So you're making sure anyone thinking about trying something at the gala understands that Talena won't be lightly guarded."

"Also that." I looked at him for a long moment.

"You know," I said, "when you explain it like that, it starts to sound less insane."

"It was always less insane," Cale said.

"You were just behind."

"That's offensive."

"I will send you an apology letter." I laughed again, quieter this time. The transport carried us forward through the city lights, smooth and steady, while I thought about the gala, the princess, the Dominion of Ava, Ardeshir, and all the ways things could go wrong even when everyone involved was trying to prevent them. Then I thought about Cale's grandmother and sister and glanced back at him.

"What are you going to tell Gran?" That got a different expression out of him. Smaller and more real than anything he had shown in the palace.

"The truth," he said after a moment.

"Just not all of it."

"Think she'll accept that?" He looked out the window again.

"She'll know I'm lying by omission," he said.

"But she'll let me keep some of it if she thinks I have a reason."

"That must be nice." He snorted softly at that.

"It's not about nice, Captain. It's about trust." I sat with that for a moment. Outside, the waters of the Odessa Ocean caught the last of the sun as it came down over the horizon. I found myself thinking about cause and effect. This gala had to go off without incident. There had been too many close calls already, the attack on my unit, the attempted kidnapping of the princess, the mass casualty attempt, and half a dozen other probing events that seemed to be testing time, patience, and resources simultaneously.

Cale would be there for the princess this time. If the Five Arts Martial Gala went badly, a lot of people were about to learn the hard way what happens when you threaten the ward of one of the most powerful arcane artists in existence. I really hoped nothing happened at the martial arts gala with the Royal Family there. The paperwork would be a bitch.